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From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Can't Hide the Past (1a/?)
Date: 01 Jan 1999 12:58:29 EST

TITLE: Can't Hide the Past
*
AUTHOR: Shadows
*
DISTRIBUTION: Will ya do me a favor and agree to post this somewhere on yo=
ur
own little archive? Just ask me first. E-mail me at [e-mail]
*
DESCRIPTION: Ok, as I sit down to write this fic, "Amends" is the last epi=
sode
that I have seen. I will be following the show from only up to there. Then=
 my
mind will have it's own play.

 Story: 15 years after my own little season three finale, the Scooby Gang
finds themselves thrown together after something *very* strange happens to=
 all
of them.

 Chapter 1: Basically getting aqquainted to where the characters are now,
really. And each of them is mysteriously attacked by something they had
thought they had all left behind in the past.
*
DISCLAIMER: Ok, I have some major stuff to say that is not mine and what *=
is*
mine.

 Buffy Summers: Not mine. "Belongs to Joss Whedon, the WB, and ya know the
rest. i really hate repitition. It dulls the keys on the keyboard."
 Jonah Daly: Mine. Buffy's husband. I kinda took the name off of Carson Da=
ly
from MTV because I was totally lacking in creative inspiration there, for =
a
moment. Um, Jonah is bascially like the MTV dude. I'm gonna make him out t=
o be
like that.
 Elisabeth Sarah "Es" Summers-Daly: I own her. She's Buffy & Jonah's kid.

 Faith Moss: I don't own Faith. "" I made up the last name because so far,=
 she
is lacking in one.

 Xander Harris: I don't own him. ""
 Cordelia Chase: I don't own her. ""
 Jonathan Peters: I own him. Buffy's
 Nicholas Peters: I own him. The child of Jonathan and Cordelia.
 Julia "Julie" and Joshua "Josh" Harris: I own them. They are the product =
of
Xander and his marriage to his first wife, Emily Longston. Her disclaimer'=
ll
come later when I use her.
 Andrea "Annie" Harris: I own her. The child of Xander and Cordelia.

 Willow Rosenberg: I don't own her. "" I've also based her completely on
Alanis Morissette, because whenever I think of who I want Willow to be lik=
e
when she grows up, BOOM, I get the picture of Alanis Morissette. So be it.
 Jeremy "Oz" Osbourne: I don't own him. "" I made up the first name 'cause=
 I
doubt his parents were cool enough to actually name his "Oz", unless they =
were
one of 'em hippy people or something when they had him. Then he probably
would've been name something like Clover or another hippy name. ::insert
shudder here::
 Adriana "Echo" Ruben-Brown: I own her. She's Willow's friend from college=
,
and they are both members of a coven that they helped start. She is also t=
he
wife of:
 Devon Brown: I don't own him. "" He was an original mmeber of "Dingoes At=
e My
Baby." I made up his last name because I figure that he needs one. He is
married to Echo, and is part of the band:
 "Hellmouth": I own the name. Oh, c'mon, what would be a cooler and more
likely name for Oz's band, after "Dingoes Ate My Baby" got tired? My frien=
d
liked the name, anyway. All of their songs are someone elses, and likewise=
,
their disclaimer'll follow.

 Green Leaf Cafe: I hope I own it. It's a little cafe in Greenwich where B=
uffy
once worked a while back, before she was "discovered" by her husband.
 Jack Hansen: I own him. Xander's co-worker down where he works.
 The song that Willow is singing is the first part of Alanis Morissette's =
"All
I Really Want." I'm not a songwriter, folks. Forgive me for lack of
originality.
 White Rose Coven: I own it. Oh, I hope I'm making the name up. If their i=
s an
actual coven out there by that name, I did not use that name purposely. So=
rry.
 MoonRaven: I own her. I took he name from the lady witch who runs "A
Mystickal Grove", a popular Wiccan site on the Internet.
*
*
*
Can't Hide the Past
Chapter 1
Part A (Cause stupid AOL won't let me past the whole darn thing in one e-
mail!!!)



=09It was a dark and stormy night.

=09Outside, the rain pounded against the window in sheets, causing the pan=
es to
shake and rattle whenever the strong wind came a-wuthering around the hous=
e.
Three o'clock in the morning, and the rain so clouded the street lamplight=
 and
the radiance of the stars that it was pitch-black outside for yards and ya=
rds,
lightning providing the only luminance. Thunder was it's companion, boomin=
g
all around the house, showing off that nature did have a damn good stereo
system. Outside, trees and garbage cans were knocked over without much cau=
tion
from the wind, and anybody stuck out in this storm was not to fare well.

=09She was not outside. She was inside, staring outside the fogged-up wall
window in the living room, watching the torrents of rain that pounded agai=
nst
her house with unseeing eyes. She was dressed in a ratty old shirt that sa=
id
"I work for the Green Leaf Caf=E9" in big, bold green letters, and as she =
sat on
the armrest of a rather expensive-looking leather couch, a pair of decorat=
ive
purple panties were visible, along with luxuriously long legs. In her thin=
,
lithe, trembling little hands was a warm mug of cocoa, quite a comfort to =
her
throughout the night.

=09Upstairs, in the master bedroom, her husband Jonah was fast asleep, pro=
bably
shivering from the cold because he always kicked the bedsheets to the bott=
om
of the bed, and he refused to wear anything else besides an amusing pair o=
f
flannel boxers. Down the hall, past the bathroom, the guest bedroom, and t=
he
utility closet, her daughter Elisabeth Sarah slept like the little angel t=
hat
she was in the nursery. They still called it the nursery, she thought with=
 a
trace of humor, although "Es" had just turned six years old a month ago. I=
t
was still decorated like a child's room, also, and Jonah groaned the other=
 day
about Es reaching the age where *she* would want to decorate her own room.=
 His
wife shared his same fear.

=09And, downstairs was her, she who could never get a decent night's sleep=
. Yet,
"you never get baggy eyes!", as one of her co-stars had once told her. She=
 had
just smiled at them and gave them her little secret-cucumbers, a hot bath,
relaxing incense, and most importantly, "tons and tons of foundation!"
Foundation, of course, was every actress's necessary tool in her line of w=
ork.

=09Still, while that made it looked like she got plenty of sleep, her body=
 still
dragged miles behind. Or at least, it used to. Her body had been condition=
ed
over the years to function without a lot of sleep. It came with both field=
s of
work . . . both of them indeed, she thought with a sigh.

=09There was a flash of lightning, and much to soon for comfort, a rumble =
of
thunder pierced through the night. She jumped, and then made sure that non=
e of
the cocoa spilled out of the mud and into the ankle-deep, beige carpeting =
of
the sunken living room. Tired of nature and tired of the world in general,=
 she
cradled the cup of cocoa to her chest and quickly and carefully made her w=
ay
back to the kitchen.

=09When she entered the large, modern-age kitchen, the first thing she did=
 was
flip on the light switch. She blinked as her eyes became conditioned to th=
e
sudden change in lighting. Then, with a toss of her waist-length, wavy, di=
rty-
blond hair, she made her way to the refrigerator.

=09Binge-fest, in the middle of the night, and still she kept a good figur=
e.
Exercise, plently of exercise, both officially with her personal trainer a=
nd
unofficially chasing after her six-year-old, her brother-in-law, and the
family dog. Not even counting her rigerous shooting schedule. It seemed th=
at
she never had an ounce of free time . . . never time to be herself. She wa=
s
always either mother, wife, or actress.

=09She was never Buffy.

=09But now, during the late hours of the night and the wee hours of the mo=
rning,
she could be herself. So, settling down at the kitchen table with her cup =
of
cocoa, a slice of apple pie, and the latest issue of In Style, Buffy was
content with being Buffy.

=09On page 52 there was, not surprisingly, yet another article about her. =
It
began with the usual line: "At only 32, Buffy Summers-Daly has become
Hollywood's favorite darling" or some rot like that. Whenever one of those
horrible reporter-persons came around, Buffy just usually rolled her eyes =
and
made the few quotes and told some funny stories, just wanting to get the d=
amn
interview thing over with. In fact, she could only remember one article sh=
e
had actually enjoyed doing. It was for one of those parenting magazines, a=
nd
both she and Es were featured. That had been entertaining for the both of
them, especially Es, who got to show off her collection of Beanie Babies t=
o
all of America.

=09Her eyes were widening in shock as she read a certain paragraph that wa=
s not
particularly flattering to a certain part of her body when she first heard=
 the
rapping. It was very soft: if not for her Slayer-strengthened hearing, she
would never noticed it until five minutes later or so, when it became
gradually louder until it was a thumping noise.

=09More upset than spooked, Buffy got to her feet and marched out of the
kitchen, up the winding marble steps that she had so loved when Jonah and =
she
had first bought the mansion, and the into the hallway. There was a slight
prickling at the back of her neck, a sensation that was associated with
something that she *definitely* did not want it to be associated with.

=09Tenser now, Buffy stopped in front of the bookcase and pulled several b=
ooks
off the third shelf, where it was easiest to reach. Behind them, hidden in=
 the
dust and darkness, were the standard issue supplies of a Slayer, or at lea=
st
the barest minimums. Grabbing a stake and a tiny bottle of holy water, she
pushed the books back into place and continued down the hall. She also ask=
ed
God to keep Jonah in the bedroom, least he pop out to check out the racket
during a critical moment. Thank God that he was such a deep sleeper; if he
could sleep through that earthquake three or so years ago, he could damn w=
ell
fall asleep through whatever she was gonna do.

=09Buffy was certain that the rapping was coming from somewhere on the sec=
ond
floor, yet she couldn't place it. She stopped, toes digging into the hall =
rug,
closing her eyes and concentrating heard, trying to place the location of =
the
intruder. Vampire alright. She could sense the animalistic hunger, the lus=
t,
the need . . . she tried not to get caught up in the moment as she tried t=
o
pinpoint where the feelings were coming from.

=09Suddenly her eyes flashed open. The feeling were coming from the last r=
oom
down the hall . . . her daughters room! As the Slayer, Buffy felt no fear,=
 no
sense of panic or terror. But the mother inside her was feeling all those
horribly twisted feelings and more, and the two halves of her conflicted
sharply as Buffy hurried down the hall, bursting into her daughter's room.

=09The room was such a sweet room. It was decorated in a soft lavender, Bu=
ffy's
favorite color and not coincidentally, it had grown to be Es's also. There
were stuffed animals, rocking chairs, toys, and a tiny television seat str=
ewn
around the room and all around the center of the room, where the tall, lar=
ge
canopy bed lay in a place where a tiny crib had once been located. Buffy
remembered shopping for the bed: Jonah and she had looked at their daughte=
r as
though she were insane, but Es had kept politely asking for the bed that s=
he
wanted. "She's having that bed 'till she moves out of the house," Jonah ha=
d
said with all conviction as they had set it up together, marveling how the
tiny the nursery had grown afterwards.

=09Now, the curtains were pulled away from each other and tied to the bedp=
ost,
and she could see the tiny form of her daughter cuddled under the silk
lavender covers, head buried in a pillow, and long brown hair spread all o=
ver
like a halo. In her arms she clutched a raggedy stuffed pig: Mr. Gordo, wh=
ich
had once been Buffy's. And, as Buffy could tell and acknowledge with a gre=
at
amount of relief, she was still breathing deeply; in fact, she was breathi=
ng
and making soft snoring noises. The mother in Buffy reminded herself that =
she
needed to take Es to the doctor and find out what the little girl was alle=
rgic
to.

=09Then the thumping sound came again. Elisabeth Sarah snorted and rolled =
over
in her sleep, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer looked past the canopy bed and =
at
the large window that had a wonderful view of acres of forest that were pa=
rt
of the Daly land.

=09The only problem was that the breathtaking view was blocked by the larg=
e,
burly form of a vampire, who was desperately trying to punch in the thick
glass door. Buffy chuckled to herself.

=09"Nine inches of glass, idiot. How are you going to get in?" she asked t=
he
moronic vampire, who of course had not noticed her yet. Feeling a little
humorous and still with a slight high from the earlier shock of nerves, Bu=
ffy
carefully creeped up to window, staying tucked away in the shadows.

=09When she was right underneath the window, Buffy reached up to grasp the
window ledge with the hand that held the stake. The vampire still did not
notice her. Good.

=09Inside her head, Buffy gave a yelp. She quickly rose up, filling the wi=
ndow
with her form. The surprised look on the vampire's face was to die for, ba=
d a
pun as that was. The vampire, shocked, let go of the hold that he had on t=
he
window, and for a moment he just crouched there on the ledge, hands spinni=
ng
and trying to keep his balance. Then, it's mouth twisted into an "O", the
vampire lost balance and fell down two stories, landing on the grass with =
a
*thump* that rang true in Buffy's mind.

=09She allowed herself a little laugh. What is just her, or were vampires
getting stupider and stupider as the years progressed? She turned around,
holding the stake and the vial of holy water loosely in her hand, shaking =
her
head with disgust. Really, it just was worth it most of the time . . .

=09"Mommy? What's going on?"

=09It was Buffy's turn to be startled now, so startled that she jumped jus=
t the
tiniest bit before she realized that silky, young-sounding voice was comin=
g
from her daughter, who was now sitting up in bed with a sleepy demeanor ab=
out
her. Buffy looked down at her hands, saw the weapons, and then quickly tuc=
ked
them behind her, dropping them behind a large stuffed rabbit, hoping that =
she
could get them in the morning before Es found them.

=09"Nothing going on, sweetheart," Buffy soothed, walking over to her baby=
 girl.
She sat down next to her, pulling Es into her lap and holding her to her
chest, smoothing her long, tangled brown hair that was the same length as =
her
mother's. "Mommy was just looking out the window, that's all." She gave he=
r a
comforting kiss on the forehead and pulled back to look her daughter in th=
e
eye. "Now go back to sleep."

=09"But I'm not tired," Es protested sleepily, opening her mouth in a litt=
le
yawn. Then both mother and daughter giggled. "I guess I am," Es admitted,
laying back down into her pillow. Buffy just smiled and tucked the covers
tight around Es' body, then smoothing back her hair from her forehead.

=09"Sweet dreams," Buffy whispered, slowly getting up. "I love you."

=09"Love you too," Es breathed, already half asleep. In a few seconds, she=
 was
back to her steady breathing/wheezing. Buffy sighed tiredly and then walke=
d
out of the nursery, closing the door softly behind her. She stood in the h=
all
for a moment, searching for the vampire's presence. He was still out there=
,
somewhere in front of the house. Should she just go to sleep and pray that=
 the
vampire didn't harm somebody else? Or should she grab another stake from t=
he
false-bottom drawer in the master bedroom, the one that Jonah had no knowl=
edge
of?

=09As good as dropping into bed besides her husband sounded right about no=
w,
Buffy could not ignore her duty. Sure, she could run away from being the
Slayer, but it follow her until the day she died. At least things weren't =
too
bad, and she should be grateful for that. Besides, if she didn't do someth=
ing
about that vampire . . . someone might get killed. Although many deaths we=
re
on her pretty little head already, Buffy didn't care to have one more adde=
d to
the list. Dejectedly, Buffy reached for the hidden stash in her bookcase,
pulling out just a stake this time. Swift and quick was the plan du jour.

=09Just as she was placing the books back in place was when something stra=
nge
happened. Well, it was not strange as in the sense of it happening-it was
perfectly natural, mind you-but why would it choose to happen at that prec=
ise
moment? Buffy's body went rigid as she felt the vampire suddenly *not be
there*. He was totally gone-from this world at least. He had been slayed. =
But
by whom?

=09Buffy felt a slight bit of terror grip her heart again, but curiosity w=
as the
ruling emotion here. Hurrying down the stairs, Buffy ran to the door, inte=
nt
on finding out what had happened to vampire, not at all afraid to fling th=
e
door open, because she had never invited a single vampire into this house.

=09She was still stunned, though, at the figure that stood in her doorway,=
 with
the shiny black slicker, and completely drenched it rain, leather, and
metallic jewelry. The shock must have been evident on her face, because he=
r
surprise visitor noticed and laughed.

=09"That's not happy to see me," Faith Moss, the Vampire Slayer said as a =
bolt
of lightning hit somewhere in the next street, raising the hair on the two
women's necks and also illuminating her face eerily. "Afraid of the
competition, eh?"

=09Buffy's mouth suddenly did not work. Why, in fifteen years, did Faith
suddenly appear on her doorstep. "What . . . ?" she asked, her mouth hangi=
ng
ajar at the not-so-quite end of the sentence.

=09Faith smiled, her thin, very red lips parting just for a moment, then
settling back into a thin line. "My last Watcher gave me an important bit =
of
information. One of those pesky prophecies." She shook her arms, sending
droplets of rain flying off from her coat. "You gonna let me in, or an I g=
onna
catch pneumonia or what?"

=09"Oh," Buffy said, somewhat sheepishly. Then she held the door open, and=
 Faith
marched past her as though she owned the place. "Make yourself at home," B=
uffy
whispered softly as Faith hung her coat on the coat rack and then walked i=
nto
the living room, plopping onto the coat and lifted her feet off the floor.

=09Before closing the door, Buffy took one last look out the window, in ca=
se
anymore surprise visitors popped up. Then, assured that there was to be no
more, Buffy closed behind the door behind her. Surely, this was going to b=
e
one interesting night.



//*\\ End of Part A //*\\

Feedback is *so* wanted. Tell me what you like! Tell me what you hate! (:
~Shadows~




-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Can't Hide the Past (1b/?)
Date: 01 Jan 1999 13:00:44 EST

TITLE: Can't Hide the Past
*
AUTHOR: Shadows
*
DISTRIBUTION: Will ya do me a favor and agree to post this somewhere on your
own little archive? Just ask me first. E-mail me at [e-mail]
*
DESCRIPTION: Ok, as I sit down to write this fic, "Amends" is the last episode
that I have seen. I will be following the show from only up to there. Then my
mind will have it's own play.

 Story: 15 years after my own little season three finale, the Scooby Gang
finds themselves thrown together after something *very* strange happens to all
of them.

 Chapter 1: Basically getting aqquainted to where the characters are now,
really. And each of them is mysteriously attacked by something they had
thought they had all left behind in the past.
*
DISCLAIMER: Ok, I have some major stuff to say that is not mine and what *is*
mine.

 Buffy Summers: Not mine. "Belongs to Joss Whedon, the WB, and ya know the
rest. i really hate repitition. It dulls the keys on the keyboard."
 Jonah Daly: Mine. Buffy's husband. I kinda took the name off of Carson Daly
from MTV because I was totally lacking in creative inspiration there, for a
moment. Um, Jonah is bascially like the MTV dude. I'm gonna make him out to be
like that.
 Elisabeth Sarah "Es" Summers-Daly: I own her. She's Buffy & Jonah's kid.

 Faith Moss: I don't own Faith. "" I made up the last name because so far, she
is lacking in one.

 Xander Harris: I don't own him. ""
 Cordelia Chase: I don't own her. ""
 Jonathan Peters: I own him. Buffy's
 Nicholas Peters: I own him. The child of Jonathan and Cordelia.
 Julia "Julie" and Joshua "Josh" Harris: I own them. They are the product of
Xander and his marriage to his first wife, Emily Longston. Her disclaimer'll
come later when I use her.
 Andrea "Annie" Harris: I own her. The child of Xander and Cordelia.

 Willow Rosenberg: I don't own her. "" I've also based her completely on
Alanis Morissette, because whenever I think of who I want Willow to be like
when she grows up, BOOM, I get the picture of Alanis Morissette. So be it.
 Jeremy "Oz" Osbourne: I don't own him. "" I made up the first name 'cause I
doubt his parents were cool enough to actually name his "Oz", unless they were
one of 'em hippy people or something when they had him. Then he probably
would've been name something like Clover or another hippy name. ::insert
shudder here::
 Adriana "Echo" Ruben-Brown: I own her. She's Willow's friend from college,
and they are both members of a coven that they helped start. She is also the
wife of:
 Devon Brown: I don't own him. "" He was an original mmeber of "Dingoes Ate My
Baby." I made up his last name because I figure that he needs one. He is
married to Echo, and is part of the band:
 "Hellmouth": I own the name. Oh, c'mon, what would be a cooler and more
likely name for Oz's band, after "Dingoes Ate My Baby" got tired? My friend
liked the name, anyway. All of their songs are someone elses, and likewise,
their disclaimer'll follow.

 Green Leaf Cafe: I hope I own it. It's a little cafe in Greenwich where Buffy
once worked a while back, before she was "discovered" by her husband.
 Jack Hansen: I own him. Xander's co-worker down where he works.
 The song that Willow is singing is the first part of Alanis Morissette's "All
I Really Want." I'm not a songwriter, folks. Forgive me for lack of
originality.
 White Rose Coven: I own it. Oh, I hope I'm making the name up. If their is an
actual coven out there by that name, I did not use that name purposely. Sorry.
 MoonRaven: I own her. I took he name from the lady witch who runs "A
Mystickal Grove", a popular Wiccan site on the Internet.
*
AUTHOR'S NOTE: There is something vaguely sexual here, so I give this chapter
a PG-13. OK? Nothing graphic at all. Just . . . hinting, I suppose.
*
*
*
Can't Hide the Past
Chapter 1
Part B (Cause stupid AOL won't let me past the whole darn thing in one e-
mail!!!)



    This time they were being very careful, very safe. The door was closed.

    Last time, which had definitely been only a short while ago, Julie and Josh
had walked in on them. Definitely not mature for their age of five, the twins
had set upon telling the entire tale in vivid detail to the dinner guests
later that night, much to their parents disgust and complete horror. After a
long talk on the birds and the bees, Julie and Josh had agreed to keep quiet
about the incident, although they had both agreed that this little thing was a
wonderful blackmail. Yet, the opportunity to use it had not yet arisen. They
would be quiet . . . they would wait.

    Meanwhile, their parents were being a little more cautious as to their
surroundings when they "did it." Since the bedroom was always a major factor,
with the bed being there and everything, and the walls were thick, there
remained the fact that for the rest of the times that they had sex, the
freakin' door would be closed.

    Of course, it did not matter how thick the walls were and if the door was
closed and whether they were ten feet for ten million miles away from the
twins' bedroom. Nothing in the known universe could muffle Cordelia's screams
of ecstasy.

    She, of course, was done with the screaming part now. They were nearing the
end part, and Cordelia was quite comfortable with being silent and letting her
husband do his thing under the covers.

    "Hmm, yes, that's the right spot," she murmured contently as her talented
spouse touched her in just the right place. A sob of enjoyment was caught in
her throat as she kept herself in check. "Oh . . . yeah."

    She was just sneaking under the covers to pleasure her husband a bit when the
phone on the nightstand let out it's annoying, piercing ring. Rolling her
eyes, Cordelia climbed out of her "position" and reached for the phone.

    "Hello, you've reached the Harris residence," Cordelia said cordially into
the phone, realizing how much she sounded like a secretary. "This is Cordelia.
May I please ask the name of whoever is suicidal enough to be calling me at-"
she reached out one long, bare arm to turn the digital clock to face her-"six
o'clock in the freakin' morning?" She ended the sentence in a honeyed tone,
trying to sound as sardonically polite as she could be.

    "Um, hello Cordelia," said a pleasant male voice, sounding as tired as
Cordelia sounded pissed. "This is Jack. Can I please speak to Xander, if he's
there?"

    "Oh, he's here alright," Cordelia said icily into the phone. Next to her,
Xander popped his head out of the covers, his hair mussed and his face
flushed. "Unfortunately, Roger, he's busy right now." Xander tapped her on the
shoulder, and she turned to look at him with narrowed eyes. He made a big "no"
sign and then held out his hand for the phone.

    "Never mind, here he is," Cordelia grumbled into the phone, begrudgingly
handing the phone over to her husband. "Obviously, you've got your priorities
crossed," she mumbled crossly, ducking under the covers. Xander just sighed
and turned his attention to the phone.

    "So Jack, what about that ca-" Xander stopped mid-word, sucking his breath in
sharply. He closed his eyes, his lips curving upwards into a smile, which
quickly grew to a frown. He cupped on large hand over the receiver, and then
whispered harshly, "Cordelia, not *now*!"

    All he got in response was a muffled giggled, and more of what she had begun
to do. "Roger, ah . . . I'm gonna have to call you back," he managed to get
out, and then slammed the phone back into his handle. "Are you trying to
embarrass me in front of my co-worker?" Xander said teasingly, sliding back
under the covers to that he could further enjoy this special attention.

     Mid attention-giving, there was a sudden crash from outside. Two tousled
heads popped out, both very upset and one slightly paranoid.

    "I think that came from the shed," Cordelia said in a tiny voice, looking
around the bedroom. Her eyes landed on the door, then they flicked to Xander,
and then back to the door. "Ahem," she said, clearing her throat loudly.

    Xander groaned, and then sat up. "Where are my boxers?" he said, looking
frantically around for his under-shorts. Spotting them a good toss away from
the bed, he climbed out of bed naked, only then realizing how damn cold it was
in the small bedroom. "I wish you didn't have such a good arm," he chuckled,
remembering just how far she had tossed in his clothes 30 or so minutes ago.

    "Oh, you *like* my good arm," Cordelia said teasingly, sitting up in bed
also. She wrapped the covers around her upper and lower body, even though she
was very comfortable displaying her body in front of Xander. "You so know you
do."

    "Of course I do," Xander said, pulling up his boxers. He picked up his
undershirt from the back on the desk chair and pulled his on over his head.
With a smile, he reached behind the computer monitor that rested on his desk
and took a long while in pulling out a black, lacey bra. "Is this yours, Mrs.
Harris?" he asked, dangling it in the air and wiggling his eyebrows at his
wife.

    Cordelia laughed, a lilting sound that sounded like music to Xander's ears.
The words {I can't believe she's my wife} flashed through his mind a million
times, even though she had been his wife for a good four years now. Every time
he looked at her body, every time that she spoke aloud, and every time that he
looked into her eyes, those exact words ran through his mind. He just couldn't
believe his amazing luck. {You're blessed, Harris} he told himself, believing
every word he thought.

    "Yes, it's mine," she said sultrily, letting her eyelids half-close over her
eyes as she continued staring steadily at him. When she did that it always
turned him on, and they both knew it. "But you can keep it for a souvenir, if
you like."

    "Hmm, I'd like that a lot," Xander said, and he stuffed the bra into the back
pocket of his boxers, making sure that a bit peeked through. "Now, while I be
the man and check on whatever raccoon happened to take shelter in our shed,
don't go anywhere, ok? I learned something new that I'd like to show you." His
voice clearly hinted at something.

    "Yeah, and I'd be even more interested in who you learned it from!" Cordelia
called after her husband as he closed the bedroom door behind him. She could
hear his laughter, the soft laughter that always sent shivers up her spine.
{You don't deserve him at all} Cordelia thought to herself, laying back down
in the bed and patting her pillow. {Or, you do deserve him, and you've finally
got him}. That thought made her grin.

    Only four years ago she was in the hospital, deep in a coma she had been
brought into from the severe beating her first husband, Jonathan Peters, had
given her earlier that evening. She could still remember his angry voice, the
sound of his baseball bat crunching her bones, and their child, Nicholas, who
was only three or four years old at the time, screaming for Daddy not to hurt
Mommy-yes, she still remembered that horrible night. And then, the next day,
she was lying in a hospital bed, totally unconscious.

    She had lied there for two straight weeks, completely alone and unable to
tell her story-she wouldn't, anyway, because she was the classic beaten wife
case, totally unable to admit that anything was wrong with her marriage.
Jonathan was off doing computer programming in Asia and totally refused to
come back to L.A., which was becoming mighty suspicious for the social service
workers that hung out on the fourth floor. Poor Nicholas, who they might have
extracted information from, was completely in shock. He refused to speak, and
he didn't regain his speech until an entire year later. Even now he was still
a shy and quiet boy, with a dark and brooding expression, and brown eyes that
were much too old for a seven-year-old.

    When she finally came out of the coma, two weeks after she was admitted to
the hospital, she had extreme amnesia, only able to remember two words:
"Alexander Harris." These two words brought such mixed feelings, such as
anger, hate, betrayal, but strongest of all, an intense feeling of love, of
actually feeling that he completed her. Not a face, not a recollection as to
where these feelings came from were available to Cordelia.

    Then a lucky break came. The nurse who take care of her, a kind women
somewhere in her late forties, named Celeste, recognized the name. It seems
that a man by the same name had checked in to the hospital, asking for a nurse
to take care of his twin newborns while he spent his time here in L.A.
Celeste's friend, Maggie, had been chosen for the job, and she could get this
Alexander Harris to show up. If he recognized her, they could continue getting
her memory back, because although there were picture and evidence of her
present, any and all before her marriage to Jonathan was a complete blank to
her and everyone else.

    The next day, Alexander Harris showed up. Cordelia still remembered the first
time she saw him, standing in the doorway, such a sad, depressed face on.
Then, when he saw her: bandages, crutches by her bed side, bruised all over
the place, his face had dropped into one of complete shock and sympathy. He
had sat by her hospital bed, demanding to know who had done this to her so
that he could give whoever it was a damn good thrashing. Cordelia didn't
answer him, but instead wondered why this man, this strange man with the
gorgeous face, great build, and light British accent felt the need to protect
her so.

    Least to say, the following week was a week of immense learning, and Cordelia
gained her memory quite quickly, though it was mostly from actually banging
her head on the side of her hospital bed than the fine-toothed experiments
most of the doctors and Xander had made her through.

    The first thing she did was freak out because the things that Xander had been
telling her about her past was indeed true. The second thing she did was
report the still-away-on-business Jonathan to the authorities and demand a
divorce and also a restraining order. The third thing she did was ask Xander
if he would consider a relationship, taking in consideration what had only
recently happened in England. Xander had agreed nonetheless, and in less than
six months or so they wed, and nine months later their daughter, *their*
daughter Annie was born. They were a family, now and forever.

    And, as Cordelia waited for Xander to return, she thought he was a mighty
fine act in bed, too.

***

    The air was chilly, mainly because it was December and it was Virginia, and
Xander knew that he just asking for a cold, going outdoors in his kind of
clothing. But all he had to do was take a quick look in the shed, run the
stupid raccoon out, and then go back up to the bedroom again. Simple, really,
and if he did it fast enough, he wouldn't have to down a bottle of Triaminic
afterwards. Honestly, Cordelia had the strangest way of avoiding colds. But at
least the Triaminic tasted rather well, for medicine.

    The sun was just peeking over the horizon, and Xander was overtaken by the
sudden fear that he would have to go to work soon. Then he calmed down,
reminding himself that it was Saturday and they were letting him take the
weekend off. Thank God, too. Xander planned on taking the kids camping, even
Cordelia and Annie, though they would have to deal with taking care of a
three-year-old. Luckily, Annie was turning out to be much of a tomboy, like
Julie had turned out to be. There would be no misgivings while Xander,
Nicholas, Josh, and Julie went out trekking in the woods, although Cordelia
would most likely stay inside the tent, mothering Annie to death. She meant
well, anyway . . .

    Xander reached out to pull the shed doors open, and he grunted in surprise
when they didn't open. He put his feet in the ground and then pulled hard on
the doors, and still they did not swing open. Dammit, he was a big man, and he
tons of muscles from working out, and he was very, very strong. So why weren't
the doors opening? They opened fine yesterday; they couldn't possibly rust
shut overnight.

    For a second, Xander wondered if something other than raccoons were his shed,
but he was no longer someone who was content to just wonder. He went to the
back of the shed where a few shovels were lying around, and praying Cordelia
didn't come out screaming "Xander! What are you doing to the shed?!", he went
back to the front and began to pound on the front doors.

    When he heard the satisfying *clang* of the lock being broken inside, he
shoved the doors open, and the rosy pink light of the sunrise flooded the
shed. Something moved along a pile of some unnamable metal parts, and Xander
was quick enough to see that it was indeed a raccoon. "Oh, get the hell out of
here," Xander grumbled, throwing the shovel at the metal parts, careful not to
hit the animal. He did succeed in scaring it, though, and the mammal quickly
scampered past Xander, running out of the shed like it was crazed. The strange
behavior puzzled Xander; that and the fact that something seemed so *wrong*.
It was just in the air.

    Cautiously, Xander entered the shed, walking all the way to the back, where
the sunrise's light did not shine. He looked around, but he saw nothing.
Suddenly, something skittered up the back wall, and Xander stepped back and
looked up high, sighing when he realized it was just a lizard.

    "See, nothing," he told himself, crossing his arms over his chest. "Some
imagination."

    He was totally caught off guard when something did indeed grab him from
behind and pulled him up against the wall. Startled, Xander gathered himself
as his attacker grabbed a good hold of his neck. Squirming out of his
attacker's strong grip, he fell to the floor and quickly rolled under some old
mats. Whoever jumped on top of the map, but Xander rolled back out just in
time. He got to his feet while the attacker was still rolling around, still
tangled up. Xander laughed and grabbed the person by the back, intent on
punching the lights out of this asshole.

    How surprised-how very surprised-was he when he looked into the horrible,
misshapen face of his attacker. A forehead creased together in a ridge down
the center, horrible yellow eyes as though it had hepatitis, and a mouth full
of big, sharp, teeth, and a pair of long, elongated . . . fangs.

    "Oh *shit*." Xander said aloud, and the vampire, seeing that Xander was
momentarily stunned, took the chance to try punching him out. He knocked
Xander to the floor again, and then proceeded to get on top of him, heading
right for his neck, growling with intense hunger.

    Xander, realizing just what the heck was gonna happen here, grabbed the
vampire by the neck and threw him off. All those years of physical therapy and
self defense weren't for nothing . . . Xander flipped over unto his back and
quickly glanced around the shed, and finding what he wanted, grabbed it off a
shelf. The vampire, with his back to him, tried turning around to capture his
intended victim, but Xander was armed with the handle of a broken hammer. In a
rage, Xander shoved it right through the vampire's heart, staring in disbelief
as it disappeared into dust. Then he let the handle clatter to the floor.

    "Oh *shit*," he repeated, walking backwards out of the shed. He closed the
door quickly behind him, and then lay against the doors for support. A
vampire, in the daylight, in *his* shed, intent on making him his breakfast-or
dinner. Why, after 15 years of being left alone, did they choose to bother him
now . . .

    Well, if they were in his shed they were probably damn well everywhere.
Xander looked around him in a controlled panic, and then ran towards the
house, not caring what the neighbors or the children thought. "Cordelia!" he
yelled loudly as soon as he entered the house and the front door banged behind
him. "Get down here quick! We need to talk!"



//*\\ End of Part B //*\\
Feedback is so requested. Tell me whatcha like, tell me whatcha hate.
~Shadows~



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Can't Hide the Past (1c/?)
Date: 01 Jan 1999 16:56:30 EST

TITLE: Can't Hide the Past
*
AUTHOR: Shadows
*
DISTRIBUTION: Will ya do me a favor and agree to post this somewhere on your
own little archive? Just ask me first. E-mail me at [e-mail]
*
DESCRIPTION: Ok, as I sit down to write this fic, "Amends" is the last episode
that I have seen. I will be following the show from only up to there. Then my
mind will have it's own play.

 Story: 15 years after my own little season three finale, the Scooby Gang
finds themselves thrown together after something *very* strange happens to all
of them.

 Chapter 1: Basically getting aqquainted to where the characters are now,
really. And each of them is mysteriously attacked by something they had
thought they had all left behind in the past.
*
DISCLAIMER: Ok, I have some major stuff to say that is not mine and what *is*
mine.

 Buffy Summers: Not mine. "Belongs to Joss Whedon, the WB, and ya know the
rest. i really hate repitition. It dulls the keys on the keyboard."
 Jonah Daly: Mine. Buffy's husband. I kinda took the name off of Carson Daly
from MTV because I was totally lacking in creative inspiration there, for a
moment. Um, Jonah is bascially like the MTV dude. I'm gonna make him out to be
like that.
 Elisabeth Sarah "Es" Summers-Daly: I own her. She's Buffy & Jonah's kid.

 Faith Moss: I don't own Faith. "" I made up the last name because so far, she
is lacking in one.

 Xander Harris: I don't own him. ""
 Cordelia Chase: I don't own her. ""
 Jonathan Peters: I own him. Buffy's
 Nicholas Peters: I own him. The child of Jonathan and Cordelia.
 Julia "Julie" and Joshua "Josh" Harris: I own them. They are the product of
Xander and his marriage to his first wife, Emily Longston. Her disclaimer'll
come later when I use her.
 Andrea "Annie" Harris: I own her. The child of Xander and Cordelia.

 Willow Rosenberg: I don't own her. "" I've also based her completely on
Alanis Morissette, because whenever I think of who I want Willow to be like
when she grows up, BOOM, I get the picture of Alanis Morissette. So be it.
 Jeremy "Oz" Osbourne: I don't own him. "" I made up the first name 'cause I
doubt his parents were cool enough to actually name his "Oz", unless they were
one of 'em hippy people or something when they had him. Then he probably
would've been name something like Clover or another hippy name. ::insert
shudder here::
 Adriana "Echo" Ruben-Brown: I own her. She's Willow's friend from college,
and they are both members of a coven that they helped start. She is also the
wife of:
 Devon Brown: I don't own him. "" He was an original mmeber of "Dingoes Ate My
Baby." I made up his last name because I figure that he needs one. He is
married to Echo, and is part of the band:
 "Hellmouth": I own the name. Oh, c'mon, what would be a cooler and more
likely name for Oz's band, after "Dingoes Ate My Baby" got tired? My friend
liked the name, anyway. All of their songs are someone elses, and likewise,
their disclaimer'll follow.

 Green Leaf Cafe: I hope I own it. It's a little cafe in Greenwich where Buffy
once worked a while back, before she was "discovered" by her husband.
 Jack Hansen: I own him. Xander's co-worker down where he works.
 The song that Willow is singing is the first part of Alanis Morissette's "All
I Really Want." I'm not a songwriter, folks. Forgive me for lack of
originality.
 White Rose Coven: I own it. Oh, I hope I'm making the name up. If their is an
actual coven out there by that name, I did not use that name purposely. Sorry.
 MoonRaven: I own her. I took he name from the lady witch who runs "A
Mystickal Grove", a popular Wiccan site on the Internet.
*
AUTHOR'S NOTE: There is something vaguely sexual here, so I give this chapter
a PG-13. OK? Nothing graphic at all. Just . . . hinting, I suppose.
*
*
*
Can't Hide the Past
Chapter 1
Part C (Cause stupid AOL won't let me past the whole darn thing in one e-
mail!!!)



    "Ok, now listen to this, alright? Here goes . . ."

    Willow Osbourne sat up on one of the couch cushions that had been thrown on
the hardwood floor for comfort. Her legs were cross-legged like Buddha, her
hair, which reached down to her ankles when she stood up, was sprawled all
over the floor, and in her beautiful manicured hands was a small cup of herbal
tea.

    She wore a pair of loose-fitting, ragged old Levi's that once were her
husbands, back when they fit him. He had grown quite a bit since he had bought
these pants, so now they were Willow's. Her top was a loose-fitting, copper,
velvety thing with a dangerously low neckline. A beautiful choker with a
silver half-moon hanging from a ribbon beautifully accented her pale, elegant
neck. Her hair, thick and dangerously wavy and colored "Terra Cotta Shocked",
hung over in her eyes and she bent forwards, scribbling furiously in a
notebook.

    She rocked back and forth to an imaginary rhythm, never taking her eyes of
the paper and writing with more and more ferocity as she neared the bottom of
the page. Then, with a little exclamation of triumph, she dotted her last
period and then jumped up, the couch cushion swaying dangerously. "Done! I
think I got it!" she exclaimed excitedly, shaking with joy. Then she cleared
her throat and opened her mouth, and out came these words:

    "Do I stress you out?
     My sweater is on backwards and inside out,
     And you say how appropriate.
     I don't want to dissect everything today,
     I don't mean to pick you apart you see,
     But I can't help it.
     There I go jumping before the gunshot has gone off.
     Slap me with a splintered ruler,
     And it would knock me to the floor if I wasn't there already
     If only I could hunt the hunter!"

    Then, done singing her little diddy, she sat back down on the cushion,
crossed her legs, and waited for the response.

    Before her sat her husband, a fellow coven member, and an ex-boyfriend. Also
known as Jeremy "Oz" Osbourne, Adriana "Echo" Ruben-Brown, and Devon Brown.
Also, to most of America, they were known as the extremely popular and
successful alternative music band, "Hellmouth."

    "I thought that was really good. I like the lyrics, but the music could be
worked on," Oz offered after a long pause for careful consideration. He was
wearing an old checkered jacket over one of his many bowling shirts, this one
a cheerful light blue that said "New York City" in script above the left
pocket. He wore a pair of brand new khaki's that Willow had gotten him for his
birthday. His hair was its regular brown this month, but if Willow was going
to the supermarket like she said she was, it wouldn't stay this shade for
long.

"Where's the rest of the song?" Echo asked abruptly. She wore a tight black
shirt that had a gorgeous silk-screened rose on the front, and on the back the
words "White Rose Coven" were scripted, along with the name "Echo." As for the
lower part of her, she had on a skirt with a dangerous slit down the side,
which had been caused when Echo had caught it on the side of the door and
ripped it. Her shaggy black hair framed her pale china face and her delicate
feature, and ended somewhere below her shoulder blades.

Everyone gave her an exasperated look. "What, I want to know!" When nobody
else said anything and just glared at her, she scowled a little and shrunk
back into her seat on the couch. "Oh, what do you expect," she grumbled, "I'm
just the drummer."

    Next to her, her husband Devon shifted in his seat and shifted the position
of his arm, which rested on Echo's shoulders. He was wearing an old, faded t-
shirt that had a picture of a skater dude, and baggy blue jeans. His brown
hair was in a style reminiscent of Ben Affleck when he was young. "I really,
really liked the lyrics, and I have a suggestion for the music . . . more of
an uppity thing, instead of so mellow."

    "Ok," Willow said cheerfully, wanting as much feedback as she could get. She
was absolutely dying to get a new record out, especially after the success of
their first two albums, and as the songwriter of the group, she had to make
some big contributions. Like writing the songs themselves.

    "I also have the chorus part down already, but I don't like how it goes right
after this certain paragraph. But I'm thinking, if I think of another
paragraph, then maybe it'll fit . . ."

    The whole band dove right into the song, adding their own lyrics although it
was Willow's job, adding percussion although that was Echo's job, and the boys
remained pretty true to them making the decisions about the guitar. Echo,
though, was all for the electronica part of the song. She loved working with
the keyboard, and making all sorts of weird music and noises to use in the
song.

    The whole team was really involved in the process when there was the sound of
glass breaking from outside. They all lifted their heads up, Oz and Willow
exchanging looked. Oz's ears twitched back, extremely unnatural for a human,
and then concentrated as though he was listening to something far away. Echo
and Devon turned to watch him carefully: he was the best bodyguard, what with
the ability to tune into his wolf senses whenever he liked.

    "There's someone outside and . . ." Oz shivered, and that fact was clearly
visible to the other members of the band. "I actually think it's . . .
something."

    "Oh darn, I'll get the supplies," Echo groaned, getting up off her arse and
walking over to the little kitchen they had going in this apartment. She
reached up for the top cabinet and opened it, starting to pull out all the
ancient Christian relics. "Really, Willow, I remember you scaring MoonRaven so
bad when she opened this cabinet," Echo chuckled, remembering a certain
episode when their coven leader had come to visit the apartment. "I can just
see the expression on her face. 'I thought you were *Jewish* and Wiccan,
child! Not three whole religions! How do you split your time so?* Hmm. Quite
memorable."

    "Yeah, well, I'm not surprised if she buys the whole 'it's to ward off
vampires' thing," Devon said wryly to Willow. "She took it pretty well when
you broke the news about you and Oz being werewolves and all."

    "Well, she did tell me she was a witch," Willow said, shrugging. "I say fair
and fair."

    Oz was slowly walking towards to the door, his ears still contorted forwards.
Any person that was not used to seeing them like that would definitely be sick
to their stomach. "Gimme a stake," he murmured, finally arriving at the door.

    "Here." Echo closed the cabinet and tossed out some wooden stakes, teeny
nail-polish bottles of holy water, and crosses to the three other people in
the apartment. Then Willow, Devon, and Echo came up behind Oz, armed and
ready.

    Ever since Oz and Willow had left Sunnydale behind, the vampires and other
supernatural forces (not counting Willow's interest in the Craft) had never
bothered them. When they had moved down here to Old World Mexico, however,
evil still pretty much had somewhat of a reign over here, stepped in ancient
traditions. After telling Echo and Devon (heck, they had taken tons of the
truth in, already) the four had gone out, bought the supplies, and generally
knew what to do. It also helped that Oz was able to tap into his werewolf
aspect at any time, Willow and Echo were trained in all aspects of being
Wiccan, and Devon having a black belt in Tae Kwon Do. They were pretty much
prepared for anything.

    "It's by the fountain," Echo noted, sensing the empty pocket in the energy
that flowed all around the small apartment complex in Southern Mexico. Willow
nodded in affirmation, feeling the emptiness also. No doubt that Oz sensed it,
for dogs and cats had always been able to spot the paranormal. Once, Willow
and Echo had to perform an exorcism of the house because Oz was being driven
nuts by a ghost living in one of the pasts apartments they had rented.

    "I'll take your word it," Devon said as he looked out the window, pushing the
vertical blinds out of the way so that he could see somewhat clearly. "I
really can't tell anything in this dark. It looks like no one is there."

    "Well, no one isn't there," Echo said, matching Devon's earlier tone of
wryness. "Some*thing* is there."

    "Give you that," Devon admitted, shrugging.

    Oz opened the door and the four of them stepped out, Oz immediately changing
his eyes into the werewolf form so that he could see better in the dark. "It's
there alright," he admitted, feeling his hair standing up straight on end.
"Who wants to get it?"

    Willow was about to open her mind to call her dibs on slaying the intruding
vamp when a shadow dropped from atop the porch roof and landed straight on Oz,
knocking him over the banister and sending him flying three stories down to
the fountain, where the other vampire waited.

    "OZ!" Willow shrieked, turning to the wrought-iron stairs and quickly running
down the winding steps, tightening her hold on her stake and ignoring the pain
as her feet pounded against the metal. In a few seconds she had made it to the
first floor, and she quickly hurried across the square to the fountain, barely
registering the fact that Echo and Devon were right at her heels.

    Oz was not stupid-no human being could survive behind thrown three stories
down into the unforgiving earth. But his werewolf form could at least recover
quickly, and the only misgiving that he had was that he had really messed up
his shirt. He quickly morphed in mid-air, silently thanking Willow's friend
SilverDragon, who had so meticulously shown him how to change from werewolf to
human in just an instant. It had felt rather . . . good, to know that there
were others like him, others who also had to live like he and Willow did.

    Anyway, back to the point. The vampire was extremely surprised that when they
reached the ground, he held in his clutches not a somewhat scrawny human, but
a big, strong, and angry lycanthrope. The vampire released his grip and tried
to jump off the werewolf, but Oz wasn't about to let this guy go. As the
vampire crawled away, Oz jumped on his back and slashed it open with his paw,
causing the vampire to let out a cry in agony.

    In the building across the square, a light flicked on. A woman came to the
window and tossed it open, noticing the commotion outside. Sigh, another
vampire. Since this part of Mexico was still very rural, they were very much
into the old beliefs, and this woman, like most of the others around these
parts, knew of the existence of ancient evils. This woman was not scared. All
she did was take the cross that was hanging over her bed and place it on the
window, and then picked up the phone to call her aunt that lived across the
street, in the apartment above the one where the werewolves/witches lived.
Then she went back to sleep, not afraid at all, knowing that whatever vampire
stupid enough to attack anyone in these parts would soon be annihilated by the
nice people who had moved in a few months ago.

    Devon and Echo, what with their experiences in Chinese/Japanese fighting, set
to beating the pulp out of the vampire by the fountain, not staking it until
it cried for mercy. Willow just sat by the edge of the fountain, waiting for
Oz to do his stuff.

    Now that the vampire was in some pain and not up to his full strength, Oz
changed back into something resembling more human. He rolled away from the
vampire, and then grabbed him by the shoulders. The vampire growled with
ferocity, and then kicked Oz hard in the shin. Oz winced, but he just lifted
the vampire off from the floor and flung over to where Willow was. Willow
smiled and pushed the vampire face-first into the water, instantly setting off
smoke. The vampire squealed and screamed as she plunged him fully into the
deep, watching him writhe and cry out with pain. Not for nothing had she and
Echo blessed all the water in this fountain.

    Oz came up behind her, gathering the bits of clothing that still hung off of
him around the places that needed most to be covered. Echo and Devon, done
torturing their vampire, gathered around Willow. None of them made any move as
to pull the vampire out of the blazing water, Willow and Oz stared with grim
satisfaction as the vampire screamed for a mercy, and Willow felt extreme
pleasure at seeing such an evil being suffering so. It deserved it.

    "Ok, we can kill it now," she announced, crossing her arms over her chest.
She was content enough already.

     Oz made no move whatsoever, because his human self was still healing. Devon,
stronger than Willow or Echo, reached out and pulled the vampire, who's skin
had turn black and smelled faintly like a building did after it had been
incinerated by a house fire. He easily shoved a stake right into the heart,
and then he was left clutching at dust and air.

    They were silent for a moment, collecting their thoughts. Then Echo shifted
the weight on her feet. She was tired.

    "G'night," she told the rest of the group, heading back towards the stairs.
"We can work on the song tomorrow. Ok?"

    The rest of the group shrugged.



//*\\ End of Part C and Chapter 1 //*\\
Feedback is so way wanted and needed and loved with tenderness and care. Both
Pos and Neg.
~Shadows~



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Can't Hide the Past (2a/?)
Date: 02 Jan 1999 01:45:21 EST

TITLE: Can't Hide the Past
*
AUTHOR: Shadows
*
DISTRIBUTION: Will ya do me a favor and agree to post this somewhere on your
own little archive? Just ask me first. E-mail me at [e-mail]
*
DESCRIPTION: Ok, as I sit down to write this fic, "Amends" is the last episode
that I have seen. I will be following the show from only up to there. Then my
mind will have it's own play.

 Story: 15 years after my own little season three finale, the Scooby Gang
finds themselves thrown together after something *very* strange happens to all
of them.

 Chapter 2: Stupid Xander screw up things for the Scooby Gang, in a majorly
weird way.
*
DISCLAIMER: Ok, I have some stuff to say as to what is not mine and what *is*
mine.

 Rupert Giles: Don't own him. You know who he belongs to. You know who he is.
*
*
*
Can't Hide the Past
Chapter 2
Part A (Cause stupid AOL won't let me post the whole darn thing in one e-
mail!!!)



    As 17-year-old Willow Rosenberg sat in front of the computer in the library,
she thought to herself {Love really does make you do the wacky}.

    It had started out as a stupid clothes fluke-as least, that's what she and
Xander had thought. It was just the rush of him seeing her in a dress and her
seeing him in a tux-they had never seen each other like that before, and they
had been taken by surprise. I mean, they had been best friends forever, and
seeing each other look so . . . different, had come quite as a shock to their
raging & changing hormones. The whole thing was just an accident that would
happen only once.

    Or so they had thought. They had continued to meet, to touch, to kiss . . .
and at least Willow was feeling overwhelmingly guilty because she was doing
all of this behind Oz's back. She had no idea what Xander was thinking, or not
thinking, about Cordelia's feelings. All she knew was that she felt this
amazing love and compassion for Oz, and what she felt for Xander was-well,
even now, weeks after it had happened, she had still now idea about what
exactly *had* happened. Her emotions were . . . aurggh! She couldn't even
think of a word for what she was feeling for Xander.

    Lust . . . need . . . want . . . passion . . . ?

    Was that what Xander had with Cordelia? Was that what Xander had first had
for Cordelia, before it blossomed into some kind of strange and twisted like
(love?)? Would Willow and Xander, if they had a relationship, turn out like
Cordelia and Xander did? And what about Oz . . .

    Oh, they couldn't have kept up the charade anyhow. Sooner or later somebody
would have figure out what was going on. But did it have to be such a
spectacular finish? Jeez, what did the Hellmouth's rays *not* effect in their
lives? And poor Cordelia had suffered the worst . . .imagine being impaled
like that. Willow shuddered.

    For some reason, out of sheer luck, she had gotten back with Oz. Of course,
things didn't turn out as planned for the night . . . they had turned out
better. She still had her virginity and self respect, and Oz thrown in for
good measure. But now things were *so damn awkward* that she had no idea how
she was gonna deal.

    Things were not back to being perfect, before . . . that thing with Xander.
Oz was with her alright, but the look in his eyes . . . she didn't have to
look too deep or far to see the pained expression of hurt and betrayal
whenever he looked at her. Or the way that he was so stiff and a little bit
more quiet than usual. Or how he smiled more often like he was only smiling
for show. And how he didn't touch her as much. Or he had yet to say the words
that she had held so dear . . . "I love you."

    And she didn't even want to think about what was going on between her and
Xander. After she and Oz had broken up, and Cordelia and him were no longer an
item, they had remained friends, although things had been SO majorly awkward.
And now that she was back together with Oz . . .

    Her mother had given her odd looks, but she agreed to tell Xander whenever he
called that Willow was not home, or in the shower, or studying, or out with
Oz. Those were reasonable activities. Whenever Xander came knocking on her
door, she ignored the knocking until he went away, or told her parents not to
answer the door. She ignored Xander at schools, ate lunch solely with Oz, and
pretended he didn't exist in the classes they had together. Xander had tried
to confront her about this avoiding, but she had just shrugged him off,
practically running down the hall to get away from him. When Buffy was brought
up to talk to Willow, Willow had told her that everything was fine, and that
she was just going through a "healing process," although that was a bunch of
shit because it was she who had inflicted the pain, not received it.

    Now she allowed herself in the library, confident that Xander was not coming
because he said he had a dentist appointment. She had thought that was
strange, because he already had had the "two-a-year" thing happen, but he ate
so much junk food she was not at all surprised that he had to go to the
dentist's more often. It was . . . a normal thing.

    Giles was in his office, going over a new shipment that a Watcher friend of
his had sent him from somewhere in Switzerland, from a town who's name Willow
could not pronounce if it depended on her life. She was busy in a chat room,
talking with other teens who were facing relationship problems . . . probably
not as weird or twisted as hers, but she felt a strange kind of solace in
seeing that other people were somewhat as screwed in the love department as
she was.

    She was busy typing her sympathy for a boy named Tim when she heard someone
come up behind her. "Interesting book, Giles?" she murmured, not taking her
attention off of the computer screen.

    "No, not Giles. Me, Xander."

    Willow was so surprised that she slammed her fingers down into the keyboard,
hard enough so that she felt the pain minutes afterwards. She jumped out of
the chair like it was on fire, and then backed away from the computer, pushing
her shoulder-length red hair behind her ears. Then she just stood around,
staring warily at Xander, and trying not to show it.

    "Um, so, Xander . . . I thought you went to the doctor-uh, dentist! The
dentist, yeah." She was wringing her hands nervously and flicking her eyes
towards the front door.

    "I lied," Xander said, simply and clearly. He rested his hand on the chair
Willow had just evacuated. "I need to talk to you." His face and voice changed
to one of hurt. "Why are you avoiding me?"

    Willow bit her lip. "Um, ah, well . . . you know what happened. Between us.
Yes, you know. You were there." She took in a deep breath. "What I, you, we,
us, did . . . we hurt a lot of people. And I hurt Oz. And now I have him back
and . . . I don't want him to get any ideas, or anything. Like I told you
before . . . I need to be just for him."

    Xander creased his eyebrows. "So . . . that means you can't talk to me. That
means that you constantly have to avoid me. That you can barely be in the same
*room* with me? Do you think I'm gonna just go ahead and jump your bones or
something? Because I'm not thinking about that anymore, Willow. What we did .
. . we did, and it's over." Willow opened her mouth to protest, but Xander
just continued on and didn't give her a chance to speak. "So then where is he
gonna get these ideas. Unless you are . . . look, I know that there's after
effects. Of course there is. And I understand that now that you have Oz back,
it's going to be a little more awkward. But *this*? Willow, we've been best
friends since forever, and although this changes a lot, it certainly can't
change *everything*. Everything doesn't have to change."

    Willow face softened. "Xander, you don't understand. Everything does change .
. ."

    There was the sound of someone clearing their voice from behind Xander.
Xander turned around while Willow stood up on tiptoe to glance over his
shoulder. It was Giles, holding several book in his hands.

    "Am I interrupting . . . anything?" Giles asked, saying each word slowly and
carefully.

    "No!" Willow said too soon and too loudly. She cleared her throat and looked
down at the books in his hands. "Um, interesting books?" Her voice squeaked.

    "Um . . . yes, quite." He piled the books near at the computer, bristling at
actually being so close to the idiot box. "Ancient books of prophetical lore.
Actually, most of these texts are a bit outdated, and most of its prophecies
have already come to past. Still, there are some that have yet to be fulfilled
. . ." He picked the top most book up, opened it, then scooted a little past
Xander to hand Willow the book. "I would like you to look through some of
these books, Willow, if you have time. And Xander,"-Giles briefly shot him a
look-"since you are here anyway, could you help Willow look through some of
these texts?"

    "Sure," Xander said, sounded as enthusiastic as he always did about doing
research. Giles just nodded and handed him a book, and then disappeared back
into his office.

    Xander sighed, and then looked at Willow, who was avoiding his glance. He
sighed again, and then his eyes fell onto the computer screen.

    "Relationship Problems?" he inquired about the chat. Willow's eyes widened
expressively and she lurched forward, shutting the monitor off.

    "Nothing," she said meekly, very, very embarrassed.

    Xander as about to say something when somebody else made their entrance. The
original Slayerette turned towards the double doors to greet their new
visitor.

    "Hi Buffy! You came just in time for research!" Xander said cheerfully, far
from the actual emotion that he was feeling. Just because he wasn't getting
along with Cordelia or Willow didn't mean that he had to take I out on Buffy.
Dammit, he had one girl friend left, and he was gonna take care of her.

    "Goody for me," Buffy said with her usual wryness. "Where's Giles? I need to
talk to him."

    "Right here." Giles appeared out of his door again, looking around the
library as though he were searching for something along the walls. "What is
it?" he asked, giving her his attention.

    "It's about . . . a dream I had last night," Buffy said, a thought flashing
through her mind. Oh, the last dream that she had had been her with Angel,
with them making love . . . she didn't permit herself to think of the end part
of the dream at all. "Um, it was pretty weird, so I figured that was right up
your alley. No?"

    "Oh, yes, well, come right into the office," he said, glancing over at Willow
and Xander. They turned back to their books, Xander flipping just too
earnestly to actually mean it. Willow shot him a look when he wasn't looking,
thinking about the conversation they had just had. Everything did have to
change.

    Muffled voices came from the office, but Xander ignored them as he squinted
at a word on the page before him. "Hey, this may be just because I'm really
hungry, but does this word say "taco?" The text he pointed to was written in
some ancient language.

    Willow took a moment to decided whether she was going to pay attention to him
or not, and then decided she was. She peered over his arm and at the book,
noticing that it did say taco. Then she looked at the bottom of the page,
where a key was that more or less told you how to pronounce the language, if
not tell you what it means. "It does say taco, but the key says that the 'o'
is pronounced like the vowel 'u' in this language. So it's really saying
'tacu' instead of 'taco.'"

    "Oh," Xander said, shrugging. Willow went back to her page as Xander
continued studying the page.

    When she turned around again, she could see him whispering some of the words
on the page softly. "Don't do that!" she said suddenly, slapping his hand. He
looked up at her, startled. "For all you know, you could be reading a spell!
That you do not know what it does! Read in your head!"

    {Fine} Xander thought, a little bit tensely. All week she acts like a bitch
(well, kinda) and now that they were talking again, she was being harsh.
"Fine," he said aloud, turning back to the book and reading loudly in his
head.

    Of course, what Xander didn't know and what Willow *should've* known that
even a spell read loudly in the head of the spellcaster, willingly or
unknowingly, still pretty much damn worked.

***

    "So . . . I was standing at the foot of my bed, staring down at me. I was
sleeping really soundly, and at first I thought I was having one of those out-
of-body experience thingies, but then I noticed that something was wrong. I
was staring at myself in the face, and my body was lying down on the bed, so I
was pretty short. Mom just put in a floor-length mirror, so I rushed over
there to check out what had happened to me. And what stared *back* at me was a
little girl, about six or so years old. She had long brown hair and these
really dark green eyes, like the cover of that book over there."

    Buffy pointed at a small Watcher Diary that was sitting on the corner of
Giles' desk, showing him the color of the girl's eyes. She leaned forward in
the rolling office chair that she was sitting backwards in, a new chair that
replaced the old one Giles used to have. He had complained forever that the
chair fell over, so Snyder finally got him a new one, although it came out of
his paycheck.

    "So anyway, I'm staring at myself, and then the image kinda fades away and
then I see my normal reflection in the mirror. I turn back to my bed, and try
to get back into my body, but the little girl is lying in my bed instead of my
body, staring back at me. Staring at me with those weird green eyes of hers.
And the covers of my bed keep changing from their regular peach to this really
pretty shade of lavender. Then I walk over and ask what her name is. And then
she says 'I'm not suppose to talk to strangers.' And then I wake up."

    Giles made a "hmm" noise as he thought about Buffy's dream. "Well, it may be
prophetic," he told her, not an unusually dissection on her nightly dreams.
"You are the Slayer, after all. Actually, Xander and Willow are researching
some volumes that may be able to tell you what the dreams are about, whether
it is a minor or major prophecy . . ." Giles was drifting off into Gilesdom,
his little land of book and researching and lore. A land that was hard to get
him back from.

    "Woo-hoo, Giles, back to Earth," Buffy said, waving her hand in front of his
face. Giles blinked, and then stared back at Buffy, this time her face
registering.

    "Hmm, alright. Lets go research some of those book for ourselves." Giles
stood up and walked to the door, waiting for Buffy to join him. Then he held
the door courteously open for her, a gesture that did not go unnoticed. There
was a special bond between Watcher and Slayer, and ltitle things like that
really did make the world go round. Now only if Buffy would be a more
thoughtful Slayer . . . Giles held doors open for her, and Buffy had sex with
her vampire boyfriend so that he turned into a vicious killer who went and
killed Giles' girlfriend and tortured Giles himself. Not good.

    She had a lot to make up for.

***

    Willow was busy reading, again, when she felt a soft shiver go throughout her
whole body, originating somewhere between her belly and her chest, then crawl
up her spine, and the enter the back of her mind. The feeling was somewhat
chilling, still very enjoyable. Willow creased her eyebrows in frustration.
Where was . . .

    "WHO'S USING MAGIC?" Willow demanded, her tone much louder than she had mean
it to be. She whirled around, and then noticed Xander still holding the book
open, eyes darting from line to line and his lips moved softly, not making a
sound.

    Willow reached out and knocked the book out of his hands, causing Xander to
jump and then look at her, caught off-guard. "What are you doing!" she
shouted, this time her voice in check. Xander, who didn't really know what he
was doing (poor boy) just shrugged and said, "What?"

    Willow glared at him, and then bent over, grabbing the book from where it had
landed on the floor, still open the page where Xander had been reading from.
She quickly looked it over. If Xander had indeed cast a spell, surely there
would be some indication of what exactly he had done . . .



///***\\\ End of Part A ///**\\\
Feedbaaaaaaaaaaaaack! Need Feedbaaaaaaaaack!
~Shadows~



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "J. Jericho Born" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Flies to Honey" sequel to "The Necromancer" (01/16)
Date: 02 Jan 1999 00:03:31 -0800

TITLE: "Flies to Honey" (Part 01/16)
AUTHOR: J. Jericho Born
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK: Please let me know what you think of my fanfic with some feedback.
DISTRIBUTION: The author reserves rights on this story. Please do not
distribute without expressed permission.
RATING: PG-13  Contains violence.
SPOILERS: Spoilers to previous fanfic. If you would like to read the preceding
story you can download it at < http://www.sirius.com/~traction/buffy >.
DESCRIPTION: The sequel to "The Necromancer". Abel is now unconcious, but
attracting vampires like flies to honey. Buffy is caught between protecting
her enemy and helping her friend Willow find her beloved Oz. Meanwhile, Willow
gets deeper into magic and the occult in order to find a way to restore Oz to
human form.
DISCLAIMER: The writer of this unauthorized fan fiction is not affiliated with
any of the parties involved in the making of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The
characters are the property of Joss Whedon and whomever else the lawyers may
deem fit, they are used without permission. Technically that is not legal, but
I'm not anticipating any law suits. This work, the plot line, and the
characters introduced that are not already featured on Buffy the Vampire
Slayer are the work of Joshua Jericho Born, Copyright 1998.

==============

Opening

"In every generation there is a chosen one. She alone will stand against the
vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer."

Willow Rosenburg sat alone at a bench in front of Sunnydale High. The
brightness of the cloudless sky and cheery teenagers didn't bleed into her
overcast world. Her beloved Oz had been taken from her, that thought haunted
her wherever she went no matter with whom she held company. As if being
separated from her boyfriend wasn't bad enough she had to deal with the fact
that Oz was now a werewolf on a permanent basis. She couldn't imagine what he
could be doing unwittingly and how it would tear him up if he knew.

"Hey," greeted Buffy as she joined her friend at the bench. Buffy examined
Willow's gloomy expression with compassionate distaste.

"Still thinking about Oz?" Buffy inquired softly.

Willow nodded and frowned in acknowledgment.

"You don't know what's it's like to lose the one you love under such horrible
circumstances. . . oh. . . uh. . . oh, yeah, you do," Willow said, ending
apologetically.

"Don't worry, we can brood together," Buffy comforted with a dab of humor and
an unhealthy dose of sobriety.

"Have you figured out a place to store. . . him?" asked Willow. She still
couldn't say the name of the person who had caused this terrible situation to
come about. The others had developed a curious sort of pet rock affinity to
the body of their fallen foe, but she was still apathetic.

"Not yet," Buffy answered.

Willow looked up and scoured the horizon sharply, quickly she returned to
hanging her head. Buffy had noticed Willow do this several times a day.

"Are you looking for him?" Buffy queried.

"Every now and again I get the sensation he's standing there," Willow
explained.

"We'll find him and bring him back," assured Buffy.

Willow gazed out once more and said, "I just can't believe what Oz might be
doing out there as a werewolf."

Many beastly shaped footprints away in another town a group of elementary
school children had decided to play hooky that day. They scampered around a
couple boxes to arrive at their destination: an abandoned warehouse.

"It's in there," one declared.

"It's probably just a stray dog," one of his cynical friends replied.

"It's not just a dog. I've seen it, it's a huge mother-" a foul mouthed
companion affirmed, but his statement was cut short.

"Shut your mouth!" the disbeliever interrupted.

The group of kids stood there each waiting for someone else to say or do
something.

"Well," the cynic said.

"Well, what?" the one who had led them there asked.

"Go inside," said the skeptic hearted child as he gestured toward a rickety
door.

"You go inside," replied the lead kid.

"You're the one who brought us here. You go in first," bartered the cynic.

"Ok," agreed the leader. He took brave hearted step after brave hearted step
until his Nikes were within one pace of the warehouse. Intimidated, the boy
reached out slowly and he strained to push the door aside. With a gulp he
stepped forward into the run down building.

"Is there anything in there?" a cautious friend called out. His bold companion
had no chance to reply. A growl and flash of movement brought about his
disappearance into the darkness of the warehouse. The assembled children
scattered in hysteria, letting out terrified screams of horror as they ran.

==============



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "J. Jericho Born" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Flies to Honey" sequel to "The Necromancer" (02/16)
Date: 02 Jan 1999 00:04:45 -0800

TITLE: "Flies to Honey" (Part 02/16)
AUTHOR: J. Jericho Born
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK: Please let me know what you think of my fanfic with some feedback.
DISTRIBUTION: The author reserves rights on this story. Please do not
distribute without expressed permission.
RATING: PG-13  Contains violence.
SPOILERS: Spoilers to previous fanfic. If you would like to read the preceding
story you can download it at < http://www.sirius.com/~traction/buffy >.
DESCRIPTION: The sequel to "The Necromancer". Abel is now unconcious, but
attracting vampires like flies to honey. Buffy is caught between protecting
her enemy and helping her friend Willow find her beloved Oz. Meanwhile, Willow
gets deeper into magic and the occult in order to find a way to restore Oz to
human form.
DISCLAIMER: The writer of this unauthorized fan fiction is not affiliated with
any of the parties involved in the making of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The
characters are the property of Joss Whedon and whomever else the lawyers may
deem fit, they are used without permission. Technically that is not legal, but
I'm not anticipating any law suits. This work, the plot line, and the
characters introduced that are not already featured on Buffy the Vampire
Slayer are the work of Joshua Jericho Born, Copyright 1998.

==============

Scene 1

Giles looked quite dapper and orderly while he worked away in the Sunnydale
High library. His mundane world job would be interrupted once again by the
supernatural, however, as Xander peeked his head through the duo of doors that
gave entry to the library.

"Do you have. . . er. . . Abel?" questioned Giles. Xander nodded quickly
before his head disappeared behind the double doors. He reentered backwards,
duffle bag in tow. Giles rubbed his hands together in anticipation as Xander
brought his baggage to bear. With a squat and a hefty lift from Xander the
duffle bag lay on a table.

"Hey," Buffy greeted. She, Willow, and Cordelia entered the library together.
Willow left the trio in favor of a solitary corner when she saw the item that
was on display.

"Did anyone see you dragging a body through school?" asked Cordelia.

"Just a freshman named Chris," answered Xander.

"The kid with the posters of aliens in his locker who thinks the CIA is flying
black helicopters over his house?" inquired Buffy.

"That's the one. I don't think anyone will be too quick to call the cops when
they hear his story," replied Xander.

"So you've found a place to store him then?" asked Buffy.

"Yes, there's a mausoleum in the graveyard that's missing it's occupant
thanks, ironically enough, to Abel himself," Giles explained.

"Oh, yeah, the one with big iron gate on the south side?" Buffy blurted out.

"Ok, I spend way too much time in the graveyard," she added.

"As I was saying, the occupant doesn't have any relatives locally so I don't
think anyone will mind if we borrow it. It's sort of fitting anyway," Giles
continued. He opened the duffle bag to find Abel with a pair of joke glasses
proudly seated on his face. All eyes immediately went to Xander.

"Hey! I've been looking for those," Xander declared as he quickly retrieved
his gag. He inadvertently knocked Abel's head back, opening his jaw.

"Oops, sorry about that, big guy," apologized Xander. He went about rectifying
his mistake by placing his hands top and bottom on Abel's head and performing
an exaggerated clamping motion.

"His hair is all messed up," observed Cordelia. Now she was the one who began
to attend to their comatose enemy. She bumped Xander out of the way and went
about fixing Abel's hair.

"Cordy, stop grooming the evil arch villain!" facetiously chastised Xander
with a laugh.

Buffy noticed Willow escape quietly into a side room. Concerned, she followed
her friend. Among the tidily kept office, Willow turned her back to the main
library.

"It's not every day you have to handle an unconscious necromancer. They're
just coping with the awkward situation," offered Buffy.

"I know," said Willow, still facing the far wall, "It's just. . . I'd rather
not be around him even if he is practically dead."

Understanding, Buffy nodded empathically and rejoined the conversation in the
main room.

"I don't get it," Cordelia said, "Why do we need to put him under lock and key
anyway?"

"It seems that vampires are attracted to his body because of the dark energies
it channels, rather like how flies are attracted to honey," explained Giles.

"This way we can keep him in a place where vampires tend to hang anyway and
where Buffy can check up on him when she's making her rounds," added Xander.

==============



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "J. Jericho Born" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Flies to Honey" sequel to "The Necromancer" (03/16)
Date: 02 Jan 1999 00:06:00 -0800

TITLE: "Flies to Honey" (Part 03/16)
AUTHOR: J. Jericho Born
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK: Please let me know what you think of my fanfic with some feedback.
DISTRIBUTION: The author reserves rights on this story. Please do not
distribute without expressed permission.
RATING: PG-13  Contains violence.
SPOILERS: Spoilers to previous fanfic. If you would like to read the preceding
story you can download it at < http://www.sirius.com/~traction/buffy >.
DESCRIPTION: The sequel to "The Necromancer". Abel is now unconcious, but
attracting vampires like flies to honey. Buffy is caught between protecting
her enemy and helping her friend Willow find her beloved Oz. Meanwhile, Willow
gets deeper into magic and the occult in order to find a way to restore Oz to
human form.
DISCLAIMER: The writer of this unauthorized fan fiction is not affiliated with
any of the parties involved in the making of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The
characters are the property of Joss Whedon and whomever else the lawyers may
deem fit, they are used without permission. Technically that is not legal, but
I'm not anticipating any law suits. This work, the plot line, and the
characters introduced that are not already featured on Buffy the Vampire
Slayer are the work of Joshua Jericho Born, Copyright 1998.

==============

Scene 2

A slightly glazed over Buffy patrolled a chilly Sunnydale night with stake in
hand. The graveyard was such a lonely place this time in the evening. The odd
vampire that popped up every now and again wouldn't be very much company, well
not for long anyway. She came upon two such vampires, snooping and clawing
around the crypt that Abel had been stashed in.

Stealthily, Buffy snuck up behind the two vampires with ease. It was kind of
amusing the way they were drawn to the mausoleum without knowing what they
were looking for. One rattled the iron gate on the crypt. He gestured and
grunted to the other one to help him pry it open. It was time for the Slayer
to make her move.

"Didn't you read the sign? No loitering after seven p.m.," sarcastically
quipped Buffy. The two turned and snarled simultaneously. To her surprise one
actually spoke before the melee ensued.

"We want to know what's in there," demanded an ugly vampire.

"Oh, of course. That's where they keep the Beanie Babies. Which one's your
favorite?" replied Buffy.

The two vampires looked at each other in mutual disbelief then pounced.
Unfortunately for them, one of them pounced right into Buffy's awaiting stake
and dissolved into ashes. The other one managed to get a claw at Buffy's other
arm, ripping a chunk of her jacket off.

"Do you know how much this jacket cost me?" questioned an annoyed Slayer. She
attacked the remaining vampire with a fierce kick to the stomach. Winded, the
vampire couldn't return blows. Buffy followed with a backhand to the head.
With her victim on the ground she plunged her stake into his chest.

This vampire didn't turn to ashes so quickly, however. Surprised, Buffy soon
caught a glimpse of a flailing foot followed by a close up view of the neatly
trimmed graveyard grass. The resilient vampire jumped onto Buffy, taking care
to place his knee painfully into her back. Countering his grappling maneuver,
she managed to roll over and put her opponent in a prone position.

This time Buffy made sure to hold the stake in place as she thrust the new
weapon into the vampire's chest. A brief struggle later, she was sitting on a
pile of ashes instead of a kicking and growling vampire.

"You and your new and improved vampires," Buffy yelled toward the crypt,
getting up as she talked. Abel had a way of being annoying even when
unconscious.

==============



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Can't Hide the Past (1b/?)
Date: 02 Jan 1999 03:26:14 EST

TITLE: Can't Hide the Past
*
AUTHOR: Shadows
*
DISTRIBUTION: Will ya do me a favor and agree to post this somewhere on your
own little archive? Just ask me first. E-mail me at [e-mail]
*
DESCRIPTION: Ok, as I sit down to write this fic, "Amends" is the last episode
that I have seen. I will be following the show from only up to there. Then my
mind will have it's own play.

 Story: 15 years after my own little season three finale, the Scooby Gang
finds themselves thrown together after something *very* strange happens to all
of them.

 Chapter 2: Stupid Xander screw up things for the Scooby Gang, in a majorly
weird way.
*
DISCLAIMER: Ok, I have some stuff to say as to what is not mine and what *is*
mine.

 Rupert Giles: Don't own him. You know who he belongs to. You know who he is.
*
*
*
Can't Hide the Past
Chapter 2
Part A (Cause stupid AOL won't let me post the whole darn thing in one e-
mail!!!)



    After the vampire scare, Xander had been afraid to go, much let the children
out. He had gathered the whole family in the living room, and then spoke
secretly to Cordelia while Julie and Josh had tried to listen it. Then, Xander
had proposed that they stay in the house for the rest of they day, since it
was the safest place that he could think of.

    "Brain-trust, Xander," Cordelia had told him gently, in her own version of
gently. At least she had become slightly more caring over the years. "It's
daylight outside. The vampires can't possibly get us." She then had waited
quietly as Xander once again steered Julie and Josh back to the couch where
their older stepbrother was waiting patiently and their younger half-sister
was busy painting herself and the couch with her lollipop. "Besides, it's the
21st. Almost Christmas. We've got presents to buy and things to do. We just
can't drop it because you're afraid vampires are going to magically appear in
the sunlight. I promise, we'll be home a good hour before sunset, and pick up
Nicholas from his violin lesson. And Julie and Josh from their soccer game.
And Annie from Natalie's house."

    Xander had given her a wary look, but then gave in. They had breakfast, drove
the kids to their respected places, and then took the subway to Fifth Avenue,
right to the place where Cordelia had ended her torture yesterday.

    "Ooh, look at that dress!" Cordelia squealed for the fiftieth time that
morning, tugging on Xander's arm, since his hands were full of packages and
bags. Amazing that such young children could think of so many things that they
wanted for Christmas.

    "Buy me that for Christmas?' Cordelia sighed, walking up to the window. She
touched the glass lovingly as she imagine that she was touching the ice blue,
slinky, sleeveless dress that was hanging on a display mannequin just inside.
"Ooh, will you Xander?" She turned towards him, her eyes begging. It almost
wanted to make him break out in laughter, although he knew that it would be
rude. Women. Definitely the weaker of the sexes.

    "Sure, honey," he told her sincerely, coming up and with his free hand,
caressing her right arm. She smiled warmly at him, liking his touch and the
little PDA. "But that would mean we either a) return most of the kid's
presents or b) narrow down your lists of 'All I Want For Christmas', because
it's definitely just not teeth."

    Cordelia laughed, and then gave his a quick pop kiss on the mouth, and then
walked down the street ahead of him, swinging her hips the way he liked it. "I
guess we'll have to get rid of those toys I wanted . . ." she said a bit
wistfully.

    "Hey, wait, I thought those were on my list!" Xander said jokingly, coming up
behind her. He grabbed her in a hug, and soon they were surrounded by a little
circle of packages and very close to each others faces. The other New Yorkers
around them wasted no time in passing by them quickly, or stopping to stare at
the two people so obviously in love.

    "Xander, you are such . . . aurggh," she teased, reaching up to grab the
collar of his jacket. She tugged playfully on it and then set to buttoning the
top button. She was close enough to feel his heart increase in it's rate of
beating. Men. Definitely the weaker sex. "Such a complete idiot!"

    "I'm not a complete idiot," Xander protested, watching his wife do her little
wife-y thing. "I have a few missing parts."

    Cordelia laughed again. "I know." That made Xander laugh along, though he was
interrupted when Cordelia leaned in for another kiss, one that lasted a bit
longer than the first.

    When she pulled away, Xander whispered, "People are staring."

    "You're eyes were open?" she admonished.

    "I like looking at you, even when we kiss. I can't take my eyes off of you."

    {Oh, how romantic}. She was melting. Cordelia whirled out of his embrace,
something very hard to do on Fifth Street, 5 days away from Christmas. She
smiled, her dimples showing, and held out her hand. Xander grasped hold of
hers, running his fingers over her knuckles and over the wedding ring, the one
identical to the one he wore on his own ring finger. They huddled close,
because of the cold and the crowd and something more, and they continued
walking.

    That was when Xander ran into the wall.

***

    "Shit!" Xander swore loudly as he felt his noise connect with the wall. He
closed his eyes and grasped his nose, trying to see if he had broken anything
or if blood was coming out. When the hell was there a wall in the middle of
Fifth Street's sidewalk?

    As the pain subsided, Xander opened his eyes to find out where the wall had
sprung from. Then he noticed that he wasn't on Fifth Street anymore.

    "Shi . . ." he started, but ended up trailing off. His eyes roamed up the
wall, and as he stepped back, his eyes continued to rove over the double
doors. "Where the . . ."

    Then he turned around, and saw a sight he'd thought he'd never, *ever* see.

    "Holy hell," he murmured, as he looked into the very frightened face of his
younger self.

***

    After Willow had begun to urgently read through the book, Buffy and Giles had
come up behind Xander, asking what had happened. Xander had gotten flushed and
said that he might had made a boo-boo. Giles, more than a little upset, yanked
the book out of Willow's hands and set to deciphering what the heck Xander had
done.

    A few seconds later, Buffy had whispered urgently to the other three, "Hey,
who's that?"

    They all stared at the stranger who had appeared out of nowhere, and then
Xander had gotten the oddest feeling. He found himself walking, his feet like
lead, to where the stranger was. Imagine his shock and surprise when the
stranger turned around, and he found himself lookig into an extremely
familiar, but quite different, face.

    "Xander, what did you do *now*?" came the exasperated female voices from
across the room.

    The two Xander's turned to look at the girls, the same exact things on their
minds.



///***\\\ End of Part B. I know it's a bit short, but . . . ///***\\\
Me need feedback. Me want feedback. Pwease . . .
~Shadows~



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Can't Hide the Past (2c/?)
Date: 02 Jan 1999 16:11:17 EST

The author is sorry that she screwed up majorly. Ignore that last 1b thing.
That was supposed to be 2b. I'm so disorganized. It was like, 3:00 in the
morning or something. Forgive me?
*
TITLE: Can't Hide the Past
*
AUTHOR: Shadows
*
DISTRIBUTION: Will ya do me a favor and agree to post this somewhere on your
own little archive? Just ask me first. E-mail me at [e-mail]
*
DESCRIPTION: Ok, as I sit down to write this fic, "Amends" is the last episode
that I have seen. I will be following the show from only up to there. Then my
mind will have it's own play.

 Story: 15 years after my own little season three finale, the Scooby Gang
finds themselves thrown together after something *very* strange happens to all
of them.

 Chapter 2: Stupid Xander screws up things for the Scooby Gang, in a majorly
weird way.
*
DISCLAIMER: Ok, I have some stuff to say as to what is not mine and what *is*
mine.

 Rupert Giles: Don't own him. You know who he belongs to. You know who he is.
*
*
*
Can't Hide the Past
Chapter 2
Part C (Cause stupid AOL won't let me post the whole darn thing in one e-
mail!!!)



    After Faith's surprise entrance ("Afraid of the competition, eh?") she had
jumped onto the leather couch and practically melted in with her surroundings.
Dressed in matching black leather, she was also wearing tons of silver
jewelry, and she showed lots of skin. Even after her twenties, Faith could
still pull the Goth thing off and look totally gorgeous. Of course, Buffy knew
how she kept in shape.

    Buffy had sat down in the loveseat directly across from the couch, after
coming back with more cocoa for herself and Faith. Faith didn't seem a bit
cold; you worked a lot in the rain, being a Slayer, and your body grew
stronger and more immune with every passing night. Buffy, though, was chilled
by the subject matter at hand.

    "Prophecy?" she had asked, her voice barely audible.

    "Um, yeah," Faith had said. Then she had yawned, something she clearly wasn't
planning on doing, because she clapped a hand over her mouth in surprise. "My
Watcher-my last Watcher, anyway-told me something disturbing before I, ah, got
rid of her. She was really into the book-learning thing-such a turn-off-but
the women did have something useful to say."

    "Like what?" Buffy had urged, wanting to get everything over with. The last
time she and Faith had ever spoken, or seen each other, was not under good
terms. In fact, the terms were as far from good and they could get. Faith,
though, was not acting openly hostile, much like Buffy remembered her to be.
Always.

    Faith had inhaled deeply. God, this cocoa smelled good. Not like the instant
coffee she had so grown tired of when she was on the road, and she was on the
road a lot. {The story of my life}. "Like-"

    She was interrupted by the faint, childish wail of "Mother!" that came from
upstairs. Faith looked at Buffy, raising her eyebrows. "I better go check on
her," Buffy had said, getting up. Faith, although she had to personal contact
with Buffy, knew every little intimate detail about her life. Entertainment
Weekly and People would make a stalker proud. So, as Buffy raced up the marble
steps, Faith understood.

    In a way. She, herself, had never been able to experience the joys of living
in a house she actually owned, much less one this big. Or falling asleep in a
bed that didn't change every week or so, next to a man who also didn't change
every week or so, or to a man at all. And having a daughter . . . it must be a
female thing, because even though Faith hated to admit it, she ached for the
children she could never have. {Buffy, that bitch . . .} she had thought,
clenching her fists in fury. She practically shook with long-repressed anger.
{I can't believe I'm talking to her. I can't believe I'm sitting on her couch.
I can't believe I've stooped to getting help from that traitorous runaway}.

***

    Upstairs, Buffy had pushed the door open to her daughter's bedroom and stood
in the shadows of the doorway. Elisabeth Sarah was sitting up in bed, her face
not so sleepy anymore, and nervously clutching the bedspread. Buffy strode
across the living room and plopped down next to Es.

    "Another nightmare, sweetheart?" she had asked her, afraid of the answer that
she would get. She put a comforting arm around her daughter and drew her into
her lap. Elisabeth Sarah snuggled closer to her mother and rested her head on
her chest. Buffy rested hers on her daughter's head, wrapping her arms tight
around the little bundle of love.

    "Yes," Elisabeth Sarah had said in a small voice, afraid of admitting the
truth. She buried her face in her mother's t-shirt.

    Jonah knew nothing of Elisabeth Sarah's "nightmares." Once Buffy had found
out, she had been vaguely frightened that it would develop into a running
theme, that sooner or later these prophetic dreams of her daughter's would
lead to the conclusion that Es was a Slayer. The discovery that Es was turning
out to be a very meek little girly-girl strayed far from that conclusion, and
since Buffy was still alive (and as she had just found out, so was Faith), it
seemed highly unlikely that Elisabeth Sarah was going to be a Slayer.

    Still, Es' clairvoyance bordered very much on the paranormal and strange.
Come to think of it, it was just plain paranormal and strange. She did not
want Jonah involved in any of those happenings. She did not want Jonah to
become a "Slayerette" of sorts. Consequences would be too severe.

    "Do you want to talk about it?" Buffy had whispered, and she felt Elisabeth
Sarah relax in her arms.

    "I'd like to," Es had murmured, pulling her face out of her Mom's t-shirt and
sitting far back enough so that she could look her mother in the face. "It was
weird.

    I was lying in my bed, and then I was in another bed, another nursery. And
there was this pretty lady looking down at me, and she asked my name. I said I
wasn't suppose to talk to strangers . . . I'm not, Mommy. Daddy told me so. So
I didn't. And then I woke up . . . I don't know who's the pretty lady. Do you
know?"

    Buffy had paused to think carefully, to put on a show for Es, but inside she
had been bubbling with happiness. This didn't sound like one of Es' prophetic
dreams; just something very regular. For all they knew, the lady Es dreamed of
could have been anyone: ranging from a character made up from Es' subconscious
to a lady of the supermarket that said something vaguely of interest to Es and
it stayed in her mind.

    Just a regular kid.

    Buffy sighed.

    "I think I saw the lady at the supermarket," Buffy had told her gently, and
Es had closed her eyes and smiled. Buffy wasn't the only one relieved that
this wasn't some vision of portent. Back when the earthquake happened . . . Es
couldn't sleep for nights before. All those terrible visions, and when she was
awake too.

    She remembered three years ago, sitting at the lunch table, feeding Es some
leftover pizza from last night, and the toddler was happily gnawing on the
crust, ingesting more saliva than bread. Buffy was heating up some slices for
herself in the microoven, when Es suddenly started to cry. Buffy rushed to her
side, reached out for her daughter's hand, and asked what was wrong. In
between sobs, Es choked out the words "Mr. Harlen! Mr. Harlen! Oh Mommy, don't
let him go!"

    Mr. Harlen was a man somewhere in his early 60's who had offered to fix a
leak in the Daly house. Jonah had agreed, a contrast to his usual "I'm a man,
I can do it" behavior, because he would be staying at work late. Jonah had
ended up coming home early and gone to bed, but that was besides the point.
Mr. Harlen had been up there went the earth began to shake. Buffy had gone
outside and crawled up the tree besides the house, trying to rescue him. He
had fallen off the roof, but Buffy was there just in time to grab his hand.
She had a good grip . . . but then the tree had fallen over. She buckled
herself in the right position to land without breaking any important bone,
slightly awkward because she was holding on to Mr. Harlen. And then, she had
let go, and the last thing she had heard from him when he was alive was his
screams as the tree collapsed over him.

    Es could be eerily accurate.

    "I'm tired, Mommy," Elisabeth Sarah had said, yawning. She pulled away from
her Mommy and crawled over to her pillow, diving under the covers. "Tuck me
in," she giggled childishly.

    Buffy had laughed and shifted her position so that now she was beside Es. She
kissed her daughter on the forehead and pulled the covers up to her chin,
careful to keep Es' hands over the covers. Then she had picked up Mr. Gordo
and a stuff monkey called Ms. Jumbles and place them on alternate sides of her
daughter. Es had smiled contently.

    "Night-night, Mommy," she had whispered, her eyelids already heavy with
sleeps.

    "Sweet dreams," Buffy repeated from earlier that night. And as she stood up
to leave the room, she realized that she really meant it. For everyone's sake.

***

    Now Buffy stood in front of the couch, watching the deep, even breaths of
Faith. Fallen right asleep while Buffy had gone upstairs to check on her
daughter. Buffy wondered for a moment if it was all a trick. Faith had always
seemed to be on the road, even before Buffy had left Sunnydale again, and she
might have just wanted a place to stay for the night.

    But no, Faith would have come right out and demanded it. She wouldn't have
lied about a prophecy to get in.

    Would she? Buffy didn't know. She didn't know anything anymore . . . and that
lack of knowledge really bothered her.

    She heard a padded behind her on the carpet, and then heavy breathing. She
smiled, and turned around, dropping to her knees.

    "Hey Giles," she said affectionately, grabbing Giles in a big bear hug.

    The golden retriever panted happily, and licked Buffy's face with his large,
rough, red tongue. "Ew, doggy kisses," Buffy laughed, rubbing the top of
Giles' shaggy blond head. Then she closed her eyes and kissed the dog on her
nose. "You know just how to cheer me up, Giles."

    She could've sworn the dog grinned. But instead, Giles opened his mouth to
bark, but Buffy grabbed his snout and pointed over to Faith.

    "Sleeping," she told the dog, who had grown to know the meaning after the
nights she had trained to be quiet around Es, who as a baby started to cry in
fear whenever Giles barked at her. "Ssh."

    The dog looked back at Buffy, nodding his head sagely. The gesture was so
human that Buffy smiled again. This dog had been around people for too long.

    Sometimes he reminded her of the real thing.

    "I'm not asleep," came the voice of Faith. Buffy turned around again, and saw
Faith lifting her head off the leather couch. "You named the dog after your
Watcher?" she said groggily, a faint smile on her face.

    Buffy blushed. "Uh . . . yes," she admitted, feeling a bit foolish. She put
one arm around her dogs back and began to carefully run her hand over. Giles
lay down, enjoying the feeling, and put his head on his front paws. He looked
straight at Faith with that knowledgeable expression, blinking his big brown
eyes.

    "I named a beagle after Xander once," Faith said, drifting off to nappy land
again. She allowed herself a yawn. "It was a stupid dog. Damned horny, too."

    Buffy giggled. "Sounds like the Xander I remember."

    Faith didn't answer, because she was already snowing. Buffy cast a glance at
her dog and raised an eyebrow. "Think we should do the same?"

    Giles snuffed heavily through his nose. His ear flicked back and Buffy took
that s a sign of his distress.

    "Sorry Giles, reports of ancient prophecies are to be held off tomorrow due
to sleepage," she told the dog. "Now how 'bout you and me snoozing a bit
ourselves?"

    Giles snorted and quickly rose up to his feet, tail wagging and tug hanging
out of his mind. "That a yes?" Buffy asked, rising up to her feet, grabbing
the arm of the couch to steady herself.

    "Mommy?"

    Buffy whirled around, nerves taught-jeez, what the hell else was gonna
present itself tonight?-when she realized it was only Es, standing at the
stairs, holding the railing with one tiny hand. The large, lavender nightie
seemed awfully big on her, and she seemed like the whisp of a ghost. She was
so pale . . . she hadn't gone out much, lately.

    "What is it, Es?" Buffy asked for the fiftieth time that night, as Es climbed
down the remaining steps and down into the living room, lost in the carpet.
She walked over to where her Mom was and stood before her, her bottom lip
jutting out just slightly.

    "Can I sleep with Giles tonight?" Es asked, looking at the dog. Giles, happy
as ever to see her, quickly bounded up to her and licked her hand. Es allowed
herself a tiny smile on her perfectly full lips.

    "You'll have to ask Giles," Buffy said. "And it seems to me like he totally
agrees with you."

    Giles yipped softly, and nodded his head emphatically. Es smiled and patted
her dog around the folds of his neck. Then she looked past Buffy, to the
strange woman who was splayed out on the couch, snoring softly. "Mommy, who's
that?"

    Buffy turned to meet her gaze, and then swallowed the lump in her throat. How
was she gonna explain Faith to Es? How was she gonna explain Faith to *Jonah*.
{Think, Buffy, think. A mind is a terrible thing to waste}. "She's a friend of
Mommy's. She's sleeping over here . . . because she needs a place to stay for
the night." She took Es' hand. "Maybe when she wakes up, you can talk and play
with her." Yeah right. Buffy did not want any of Faith's "personality" to rub
off on her daughter.

    "Oh," Es said, letting her gaze drift over to the coffee table. She seemed
slightly worried.

    "Es?" Buffy asked, prodding gently. "Is that the lady you had a dream about?"

    "No," Es said quickly and flatly. Buffy was relieved, until Es let go of
Buffy's hand and pointed at a picture frame on the coffee table. "*That's* the
lady from my dream."

    Buffy looked to where she was pointing, and quickly drew in her breath. It
was a picture of her, taken outside the old house in Sunnydale. Her mother had
taken the photo, a month or so before graduation. The graduation Buffy had
never showed up for.

    "Um . . ." Buffy was at a total loss for words. What did *this* mean?



////****\\\\ End of Part C ////****\\\\
Flattering feedback is great! Constructive criticism is better! 'Nough said.
~Shadows~



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Can't Hide the Past (2d/?)
Date: 02 Jan 1999 16:50:05 EST

TITLE: Can't Hide the Past
*
AUTHOR: Shadows
*
DISTRIBUTION: Will ya do me a favor and agree to post this somewhere on your
own little archive? Just ask me first. E-mail me at [e-mail]
*
DESCRIPTION: Ok, as I sit down to write this fic, "Amends" is the last episode
that I have seen. I will be following the show from only up to there. Then my
mind will have it's own play.

 Story: 15 years after my own little season three finale, the Scooby Gang
finds themselves thrown together after something *very* strange happens to all
of them.

 Chapter 2: Stupid Xander screws up things for the Scooby Gang, in a majorly
weird way.
*
DISCLAIMER: Ok, I have some stuff to say as to what is not mine and what *is*
mine.

 Rupert Giles: Don't own him. You know who he belongs to. You know who he is.

 Mr. Harlen: He owns himself. He's my neighbor, and Buffy's fictional
neighbor. Such a nice man. Sorry for killing you off, Mr. Harlen.
*
*
*
Can't Hide the Past
Chapter 2
Part D (Cause stupid AOL won't let me post the whole darn thing in one e-
mail!!!)



    Xander watched as the vaguely familiar stranger open his eyes wide and drop
the bags that he was carrying. There was the sound of glass breaking, and then
the stranger winced, muttering something about a carousel. Then the man lifted
one hand up, reaching out to Xander's face as though he was going to touch him
to see if he was real, and then drew his hand back sharply. He backed away, up
to the wall, looking at the library setting around him. He looked at the
people in the back, and as his eyes settled on Giles all the color drained
from his face. A colorful string of swear words erupted from his mouth.

    Then there was silence. Nobody seemed sure of what to do. Then the man,
leaving the bags and much of his sanity behind, walked right up to the
computer and peered at the others.

    Buffy was getting a little nervous, and the way that this man was staring at
her was making her more nervous. "Hey," she snapped, "what're you looking at?"
Actually . . . besides the fact this man might not even *be* a man, what with
him appearing out of thin air, but he was rather good-looking, what with those
muscles and that chest and . . . yummy. Even though he was way too old for
her.

    The man blinked, and then tried to get his mouth working again. "What date is
this?" he asked, his voice cracking like a teen-agers. Then he cleared his
throat and asked a bit more forcefully, "What date is today?"

    Buffy was still staring/glaring at the man, Willow wasn't the world's
greatest speaker, Xander was just joining the, so it was Giles' responsibility
to answer. "Um, today is the 21st. Of December," he quickly added.

    The man rolled his eyes. "I mean, what *year*," he asked.

    "Year?" Willow's asked, her voice up in the high decibels.

    "1998," Buffy said quickly, filling him in. "Or, at least, until next week. I
think"

    The man took this information in, looking down at the ground and his eyes
growing a bit darker. Then he looked up and saying the following very slowly
and very carefully, as though he did not believe that he himself knew what he
was saying:

    "Now, none of you are going to believe this." A pause. "OK, maybe you will,
living on the Hellmouth and all." Another beat. "My name is Alexander Harris.
I'm 32 years old, and just a few seconds ago, I was walking down the streets
of New York, Christmas shopping with my wife. In the year 2013. So if any of
have any ideas about how the hell I just went back 15 or so years in time, I'd
be open to hearing them."

    The whole group just stared at him, wide-eyed. Then Giles cleared his throat
again.

    "Xander," he said, staring at the young one. Both turned to look at them,
faces drawn tight in fear and confusion. "I'm afraid that you've messed with
something quite powerful."

    "What's new," growled the older Xander, shooting a glare at his younger self.



////****\\\\ End of the very short Part D, and end of Chapter 2 ////****\\\\
Feedback requested.
~Shadows~



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "J. Jericho Born" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Flies to Honey" sequel to "The Necromancer" (04/16)
Date: 02 Jan 1999 21:04:12 -0800

TITLE: "Flies to Honey" (Part 04/16)
AUTHOR: J. Jericho Born
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK: Please let me know what you think of my fanfic with some feedback.
DISTRIBUTION: The author reserves rights on this story. Please do not
distribute without expressed permission.
RATING: PG  Contains violence.
SPOILERS: Spoilers to previous fanfic. If you would like to read the preceding
story you can download it at < http://www.sirius.com/~traction/buffy >.
DESCRIPTION: The sequel to "The Necromancer".
DISCLAIMER: The writer of this unauthorized fan fiction is not affiliated with
any of the parties involved in the making of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The
characters are the property of Joss Whedon and whomever else the lawyers may
deem fit, they are used without permission. Technically that is not legal, but
I'm not anticipating any law suits. This work, the plot line, and the
characters introduced that are not already featured on Buffy the Vampire
Slayer are the work of Joshua Jericho Born, Copyright 1998.

==============

Scene 3

Avoiding other students as she went, Buffy turned a hall of Sunnydale High to
come upon the school's computer lab. She had not seen her friend Willow at all
that day and was starting to get concerned. Her worries were quieted somewhat
when she saw the redhead in question diligently hacking away at a keyboard.
Interested, Buffy approached.

"Hi, I've been looking for you," she said pleasantly.

"Hi," blandly replied Willow without even averting her eyes from the computer
screen.

"What 'ya working on?" casually inquired Buffy.

An awkward amount of time passed before Willow spent energy to give a reply.

"I've been going over some of Miss Calender's documents and some necromancer
books to come up with a way of changing Oz back to human," she replied.

"If we ever find him that is," Willow added pessimistically.

"Willow!" Buffy said in shock.

"I told you we'd find him," reaffirmed Buffy.

"Yeah, well, you like to say that, but you're not doing much about it,"
commented Willow.

Buffy was shocked even more. Willow finally looked at Buffy, irritation and
contempt showing.

"It's just that you haven't done a thing to try and find Oz. All you do with
your slaying time lately is guard. . . him," Willow boldly said.

Amazed to say the least, Buffy had no idea that this kind of angst had been
brewing with her best friend. She looked away and thought for a second or two,
cocking her slightly in a hurt, confused gesture.

"I know this must be hard for you. I guess I didn't really look at things from
your point of view. I'm the Slayer, I've learned to accept it," explained
Buffy maturely. Willow looked away and listened to Buffy with her ears, but
not her heart.

Buffy continued, "Part of the job description is having to slay vampires when
you'd rather be out or shopping, or having a life, or even rescuing your
friends. Right now every vampire and his mother seem to be flocking to Abel's
body, so that's where I have to be."

Clicking away with the mouse, Willow saved her work to a floppy disk. She put
it in her backpack and got up to leave.

"It's nice to see you're so grown up and mature and have all your priorities
straight. Don't bother trying to call me tonight, I'm going to be going
through. . . his library to find something that can help Oz," said Willow
while leaving.

"Hey," called out Buffy after her, "If you want I can go with you."

Turning, Willow stopped mid stride. She answered sarcastically, "I'll be fine
by myself. Abel could use some company anyway."

Now alone in the commotion of the computer lab, Buffy's jaw dropped
astoundingly. It felt strange to be on bad terms with Willow. Slowly and
bitterly, the reality of the conversation that just occurred seeped in. Buffy
searched for a silver lining to the bleak cloud that just drifted into her
life. Willow finally said Abel's name she realized, but it was little
consolation.

==============



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "J. Jericho Born" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Flies to Honey" sequel to "The Necromancer" (05/16)
Date: 02 Jan 1999 21:05:24 -0800

TITLE: "Flies to Honey" (Part 05/16)
AUTHOR: J. Jericho Born
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK: Please let me know what you think of my fanfic with some feedback.
DISTRIBUTION: The author reserves rights on this story. Please do not
distribute without expressed permission.
RATING: PG  Contains violence.
SPOILERS: Spoilers to previous fanfic. If you would like to read the preceding
story you can download it at < http://www.sirius.com/~traction/buffy >.
DESCRIPTION: The sequel to "The Necromancer".
DISCLAIMER: The writer of this unauthorized fan fiction is not affiliated with
any of the parties involved in the making of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The
characters are the property of Joss Whedon and whomever else the lawyers may
deem fit, they are used without permission. Technically that is not legal, but
I'm not anticipating any law suits. This work, the plot line, and the
characters introduced that are not already featured on Buffy the Vampire
Slayer are the work of Joshua Jericho Born, Copyright 1998.


==============

Scene 4

None of Willow's exploits into the dark arts had been as black as her current
interest. Necromancy, the study of death itself, had been a lost and forbidden
calling even among those who had outcasted themselves from society by
practicing witchcraft. In order to find out how to undo what Abel had done to
her lost love, however, she must first find out what exactly happend to her
beloved. Therefore into the darkness she went.

Determined, Willow tread into the underground lair, reassuring herself that
her endeavor would not go unrewarded. The air was heavy with the stench of
decaying corpses, obtrusively foul and nauseating. The bodies that lay there
were once reborn as zombies, ready to toil tirelessly, but when their master
fell their puppet life was lost and they returned to their state of worm
feeding and maggot breeding. The disgusting scene hit Willow's senses like a
wet blanket, but she continued on with cringed face and without hesitation.

Stepping over the odd corpse, Willow made her way to an all too familiar room.
She looked over where she remembered being strapped down to a table. Thoughts
of sheer fright gained here had since been repressed into an abstract memory.
Every now and again they would break through and manifest into refound terror,
causing Willow to break into a cold sweat and eye the horizon in search of her
assaulter.

Abel may have looked like a normal, if pallid, young man, but in Willow's mind
he stood eight feet tall, had horns, and bore a resemblance to Lucifer. She
had thought she could never happen to hate someone so earnestly, but Abel had
found the blackest parts of her heart. How dare he use people as if they were
lab rats, something to be experimented on without regard for their feelings?
The repulsiveness of being one of Abel's guinea pigs was nothing compared to
what Willow almost faced: a helpless victim for his sexual amusement.

Thank goodness Buffy had stopped him in time to spare Willow's chastity, but,
it was too late to prevent him from letting Oz loose as a permanent werewolf.
The spot where their enemy had his last conscious thought looked conspicuously
plain, devoid of significance. She walked over to an open book. Presumably
these were the directions that Abel followed in order to be able to attain the
sense of feeling. Written in an archaic, cryptic language, Willow had no use
for it.

The potions, flasks, and bottles in the far corner of the room caught Willow's
attention. She remembered Abel mixing something together, arrogant as he was,
and it being needed to turn Oz into a werewolf. Hopeful, Willow herded a
couple marked bottles into her backpack. Perhaps she could use these to change
Oz back.

With this room's helpful potential exhausted, Willow made her way out. She
continued down the halls, remembering her way so she could backtrack, until
she came upon a room that caught her eye. The desk in the center of the room
was covered by a sea of books and documents while an equally impressive cache
of materials lay neatly tucked away on a bookshelf. Willow entered, shifting
her eyes side to side.

To her delight, Willow realized that although the manuscripts were in an
unknown language most of Abel's notes were in English. The scribblings ranged
from humorous to disturbing.

"Typical Maldini, always trying to do things the hard way. He'd write a fifty
page step by step description of the technique one can use to locate one's own
ass. Much like one's own ass, Kragen Demons are easier to feel for than to
search for as he prescribes," one note read.

Another note made Willow feel uneasy. Abel had written, "A werewolf! How
exciting! It will be good for me to handle one in my research. Also, the girl
with the amber hued hair that's with him will suffice for my less studious
interests. I can grab them both while their together and kill two birds with
one stone."

Willow was frustrated at not making any progress. She was leaving when she
noticed a few roughly written lines on a small scrap of paper.

It read, "From all I can discern, the same procedure outlined in Bhadoven's
Anomalous Beastiary for 'curing' a werewolf can be used to make a periodic
werewolf more permanent. A few common reagents mixed in equal portions, spread
on the subject, and ignited with a focused blast of hellfire should do the
trick. I'm rather dissatisfied; it's like playing with a child's toys."

Rejoice, that was it! Willow enthusiastically shoved the scrap paper into her
pocket. Then a thought hit her, who was she going to get to summon a blast of
hellfire? She slumped her shoulders back down, disappointed to say the least.
After a few moments thought, she perked back up. It was resolved then, she'd
just have to learn the whole hellfire thing herself.

==============



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "J. Jericho Born" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Flies to Honey" sequel to "The Necromancer" (06/16)
Date: 02 Jan 1999 21:06:40 -0800

TITLE: "Flies to Honey" (Part 06/16)
AUTHOR: J. Jericho Born
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK: Please let me know what you think of my fanfic with some feedback.
DISTRIBUTION: The author reserves rights on this story. Please do not
distribute without expressed permission.
RATING: PG  Contains violence.
SPOILERS: Spoilers to previous fanfic. If you would like to read the preceding
story you can download it at < http://www.sirius.com/~traction/buffy >.
DESCRIPTION: The sequel to "The Necromancer".
DISCLAIMER: The writer of this unauthorized fan fiction is not affiliated with
any of the parties involved in the making of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The
characters are the property of Joss Whedon and whomever else the lawyers may
deem fit, they are used without permission. Technically that is not legal, but
I'm not anticipating any law suits. This work, the plot line, and the
characters introduced that are not already featured on Buffy the Vampire
Slayer are the work of Joshua Jericho Born, Copyright 1998.

==============

Scene 5

Standing innocently in the doorway, Buffy lingered outside of Giles' library
office. Giles himself had his attentions buried in an particularly interesting
read of a book. A few pages went by before Giles finally donned his glasses to
look over a sheepish, quiet Slayer.

"Oh, Buffy, I hadn't noticed you there. Is something a matter?" questioned
Giles.

"Well, I don't know how to say this, but I was talking with Willow yesterday,"
slowly articulated Buffy.

"Are things not all well between you and Willow?" Giles inquired softly.

"No," quickly replied Buffy with an unsure expression.

After some pause she finally admitted, "Yes." Buffy explained, "You see it's
just that I've been spending so much time with the slayage around Abel's crypt
and Oz is still out there."

"Ah, and I suppose you want me to tell you it would be fine for you to neglect
your duties and pursue locating Oz with more of your time," guessed Giles.

"That'd be perfect," smiled Buffy.

"You do realize that this is not only a choice opportunity to slay vampires,
but that if a vampire did feed on Abel and consequently killed him that the
gateway Abel sealed would be reopened, giving way for more necromancers to
come into our world. As your Watcher I can't very well endorse you forsaking
your responsibilities," reminded Giles officiously.

Buffy dropped her head and remained silent.

"As an adult and dare I say father figure, however, I can tell you that there
are times in one's life when the welfare of those close to you are many times
greater in your heart than responsibilities that one doesn't even want," added
Giles gently.

Her head now raised, Buffy quizzically glanced at the grin on her Watcher's
face. She answered it a small smirk of her own.

"Thanks," said Buffy plainly. Giles nodded in awknowledgement, his inner
character showing through his simple gesture.

==============



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Torn (8/?)
Date: 03 Jan 1999 19:33:39 EST

TITLE: Torn
AUTHOR: Danielle Loughlin
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
DISTRIBUTION: Ask and ye shall receive.
SPOILERS: Through Lover's Walk, one slight reference to Amends
RATING: this part, PG, mild language
SUMMARY: Willow's caught between Xander and Oz
DISCLAIMER: Buffy & Co. is Joss & Co's. No copyright infringement intended.

DEDICATION: To all of you who wrote and told me how much you loved this story
and for encouraging me to keep writing it. Here's the next part!

If you need any earlier parts, let me know, it's not up on my website yet.

Torn - Part Eight

Willow tiredly pulled back the covers to her bed and crawled under the warm
blankets, burrowing deep. She was so tired.

Buffy had taken care of Spike's minions and gotten them out of the factory
unharmed. Even Buffy was bewildered as to why Spike had wanted her that night,
because the master vampire hadn't even given the Slayer a reason. But it must
have been something.

Willow was too tired to think about it right now. Let Buffy and Giles deal
with Spike.

Xander, Oz, and Willow hadn't exchanged a word since Buffy had come through
the door. They'd silently parted ways, Oz going in one direction, Xander in
another, and Buffy and Willow in a third. It was on the walk home that Willow
had confessed to Buffy all her crazy, jumbled, mixed-up feelings. Buffy had
been totally sympathetic, but of course, she hadn't been able to help Willow
make a decision. Willow wished Buffy could just tell her. Xander or Oz. At the
rate things were going, she might as well flip a coin for them.

She was right back to square one. Xander or Oz. Oz or Xander. Willow groaned
into her pillow and rolled over. She couldn't think anymore. She'd worry about
it tomorrow . . when she could think more clearly . . . yes . . tomorrow . . .

*****

Willow walked into the Bronze. The club was empty, closed. The sound of
Willow's footsteps seemed to reach into the far, dusty corners of the
converted warehouse. Willow wandered through the maze of tables and chairs. A
movement to her right caught her eye.

Willow turned, and a single spotlight illuminated the stage. The musical
instruments belonging to Dingo Ate My Baby were scattered across the wooden
floor, except for one, the guitar. Oz sat on a stool, softly playing the
guitar. Willow recognized the melody as the song he'd written for her. Oz
looked up, right at Willow. His lips turned into the smile he got whenever he
saw Willow. "Hey, baby," he said.

"Oz," Willow said, stepping towards the stage.

"Don't come closer," Oz told her.

"Why not?" Willow asked. "Oz . . I love you! Why can't I come closer?"

"You don't love me, Willow," Oz said sadly. The last strains of the song died
out and Oz put the guitar down. " But I love you. I'll always love you."

"Oz, no! I do love you! I love you so much!" Willow protested. Oz got up and
headed offstage. "No, Oz, don't leave!"

"I have to," he told her.

"No," Willow whimpered. But Oz was gone, vanished into the swirling shadows of
the club. Willow was alone again. "Oz?" she cried out. "Where are you?"

"I'm here," a voice said. Willow whirled around. Xander was sitting on a
loveseat in a small alcove near the bar. "I'll always be here, Willow."

"Xander? Where's Oz?" Willow asked him. "Why did he leave me?"

"I don't know," Xander told her. "But I'm here. Don't you want me here?"

"Of course I want you here. You're my best friend," Willow said.

"Oh, really?" Xander asked. "Is that all I am? Your best friend?"

"Yes. . no. . I don't know. Xander what's going on?" Willow said in confusion.

"You know what's going on, Willow," Xander said cryptically. "You always
know."

"What do I know?" Willow asked. "Xander, tell me!"

"You know. You'll see," Xander said. "I can't tell you, but you'll see." With
that last statement Xander started to fade away into the darkness.

"Xander! Don't leave me!" Willow cried.

"I'll never leave you. . . I love you," Willow heard Xander's voice, but he
was no longer there. She was alone.

Alone . . alone . . alone.

*****

Willow bolted awake. "Xander!" she cried out, not quite realizing what she was
doing. The feeling of intense lonliness and abandonment still lingered. Willow
took a deep breath. She looked around her room . . she wasn't alone . . she
was safe in her room. Her parents were down the hall and her fish were in
their tank and her stuffed animals were still surrounding her. She wasn't
alone. Slowly, her heart rate returned to normal.

Willow lay back down, haunted by her dream. Haunted by the images of Xander
and Oz disappearing. Was her subconscious trying to tell her something? That
she could be with neither of them? That she was going to be alone?

*****

Xander climbed the stairs to his bedroom with a heavy heart, ignoring the
shouts and sounds of destruction coming from the kitchen, where his parents
were engaged in one of their weekly drunken brawls. He didn't care about that
anymore. He didn't care about anything.

Except Willow.

Once he'd admitted the truth to Willow in the factory basement, he hadn't had
the faintest idea what to say to her. Apparently she had no idea what to say
to him either, because the two hadn't exchanged a word. The only communication
between them had been a simple goodbye nod.

He wanted so badly to call her, even though he had nothing to say. He just
wanted to know that she was connected to him, to hear her breathing through
the telephone wires. Maybe if he did the words would come to him. There was so
much he wanted to tell her, but he didn't know how to form the words.

Xander entered his bedroom and slammed the door behind him, venting his
frustration on the door. His eyes looked around the room and he took in the
chaotic state of his surroundings. He let out a sigh as he glanced toward the
bed. There was no way he'd be able to sleep.

He picked his way across the floor to his stereo system and turned on the
radio, turning the volume to low. The music playing softly in the background,
so softly it was almost inaudible, did little to soothe Xander's frazzled
nerves. He had so much pent up energy. He bent down and picked up a dirty pair
of jeans, balled them up, and threw them across the room in the general
vicinity of his clothes hamper. The jeans fell through with a dull swish. Two
points, Xander thought halfheartedly. He scooped up another armful of dirty
clothes and deposited them in the hamper.

For the first time in eight years, Xander Harris was cleaning his room.

Once the dirty clothes were cleared away, Xander could see the clutter around
his room. A pile of stakes and a bottle of holy water had been unearthed under
a pile of dirty underwear. Better hide those, he reminded himself. Not that
anyone came into his room other than him anyway. The shiny glint of a picture
frame caught his eye. Xander stepped over and picked up the picture. It was of
him, Willow, and Buffy, taken on a carefree day at a nearby amusement park.
They'd accosted a stranger to take their picture. He was in the middle, one
arm draped around each girl, grinning crazily. Buffy was laughing, and Willow
was smiling that big smile of hers, looking up at him. For the first time,
Xander noticed that the look in Willow's eyes was almost adoring. Loving.

Harris, you idiot, he told himself. Right there, right in that picture. Willow
was looking at him so openly, so obviously in love. And he hadn't seen it?
Worse, he'd been flaunting his the girls he did see in front of her? Buffy . .
Ampata . . Cordelia . . god how could he have done that to Willow? It must
have killed her. He wished he could go back in time, to make things right. He
wished Buffy had never shown up that night she returned from Los Angeles, the
night he and Willow had been walking with ice cream. If Buffy hadn't shown up
. . maybe that kiss would have happened. And he would have known. Before
Cordelia. Before Oz. Before everything. Maybe he'd be happy right now if it
had.

He dusted off the picture and set it on the table next to his bed. A reminder.
Of what he could have had. And what he had lost.

End Part Eight, Part Nine coming soon!



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "J. Jericho Born" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Flies to Honey" sequel to "The Necromancer" (07/16)
Date: 03 Jan 1999 21:07:43 -0800

TITLE: "Flies to Honey" (Part 07/16)
AUTHOR: J. Jericho Born
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK: Please let me know what you think of my fanfic with some feedback.
DISTRIBUTION: The author reserves rights on this story. Please do not
distribute without expressed permission.
RATING: PG  Contains violence.
SPOILERS: Spoilers to previous fanfic. If you would like to read the preceding
story you can download it at < http://www.sirius.com/~traction/buffy >.
DESCRIPTION: The sequel to "The Necromancer".
DISCLAIMER: The writer of this unauthorized fan fiction is not affiliated with
any of the parties involved in the making of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The
characters are the property of Joss Whedon and whomever else the lawyers may
deem fit, they are used without permission. Technically that is not legal, but
I'm not anticipating any law suits. This work, the plot line, and the
characters introduced that are not already featured on Buffy the Vampire
Slayer are the work of Joshua Jericho Born, Copyright 1998.




==============

Scene 6

"Wow," said an intrigued Willow, her voice tapering the one syllable word. She
eagerly punched away at the page down key of her laptop. Curious, Xander
leaned over from the other side of the Library table.

"What are you looking at?" he asked.

"Well, I found out a way to hopefully change Oz back to a human, but it kind
of needs a little hellfire to work," explained Willow readily.

"So are you reading up on hellfire?" further asked Xander.

"Well, no. There wasn't much known about hellfire, so I started reading on how
a necromancer becomes a necromancer. This is pretty sad," Willow said, eyeing
the screen in front of her.

Xander comforted, "Come on, Willow, you're not being that desperate."

"I meant how they become a necromancer is sad," Willow chastised. She
questioned, "Did you know that when a necromancer seeks an apprentice he looks
for people in the most vulnerable, frustrated walks of life?"

"No, but it makes sense. Who better to become an ultra bad villian guy then
someone who can't even get a girl to notice him," Xander commented. He
continued, accelerating into a ramble, "And then when she does she only thinks
he's a pathetic loser. Finally, when she get's over how demeaning it is to be
seen with him she puts him down at every opportunity to make herself feel
important. But, I'm a man who has feelings, too. I'm not just her whipping
boy-"

Xander interuppted himself, "What were we talking about again?"

"Like I was saying. They find someone who's already sick of the world and come
to him in a nightmare. They torture that person in his sleep by showing him
the most grusome horrors of man's inhumanity to man. By the time the dream is
over he's an even more broken soul. Only after that do they offer
apprenticeship," described Willow.

"Wow, and I thought colleges had aggresive recruiting programs," wryly joked
Xander.

"This is like our first villian with a sob story. I mean, vampires get sired
and then they're vampires. Demons are demons. But, this guy is a human being
who's had a past and a childhood and developed in the monster that he is,"
Willow observed with a touch of compassion.

"Well that doesn't change the fact that he is the monster that he is. Right
now, this guy being a vegetable is justice," redirected Xander.

"I guess. But, can you imagine how horrible his life must have been for a
necromancer to pick him for an apprentice and, more importantly, for him to
accept," offered Willow.

"You're not getting all soft on him are you?" Xander questioned.

"No. It's just that the more I learn about where Abel's coming from, the
harder it is for me to hate him," answered Willow. Xander nodded empathically
and closed with Willow in friendship.

"Will, you've got a bigger heart than most," he earnestly complemented.

"Hey, guys," greeted Buffy, emerging from Giles' office.

"Buffy-" began Willow, but she was cut short.

"I've thought about what you said and I've finally really got my priorities
straight," interjected Buffy.

"I'm sorry for being so stuck up before," apologized Willow sincerely.

"It's cool. Anyway, there've been reports of a 'bigfoot' type monster in
Weberton. It sounds promising so I figure after school tommorrow we can head
up there for the weekend and see if we can bring Oz home," said Buffy, a
mixture of emotions bled through at different times during her statement.

"Great! I'll brush up on some witchcraft stuff, it might help us find him,"
Willow said excitedly.

"What's this? My two best friends going on an overnight trip? Since I've got
no plans, big surprise there, I must come along," Xander said happily.

"I'm sure Giles would want to come, too. I mean, he likes Oz," added Willow.

"Alright, it's a big Slayerette adventure then," commented Buffy.

==============



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "J. Jericho Born" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Flies to Honey" sequel to "The Necromancer" (08/16)
Date: 03 Jan 1999 21:08:54 -0800

TITLE: "Flies to Honey" (Part 08/16)
AUTHOR: J. Jericho Born
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK: Please let me know what you think of my fanfic with some feedback.
DISTRIBUTION: The author reserves rights on this story. Please do not
distribute without expressed permission.
RATING: PG  Contains violence.
SPOILERS: Spoilers to previous fanfic. If you would like to read the preceding
story you can download it at < http://www.sirius.com/~traction/buffy >.
DESCRIPTION: The sequel to "The Necromancer".
DISCLAIMER: The writer of this unauthorized fan fiction is not affiliated with
any of the parties involved in the making of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The
characters are the property of Joss Whedon and whomever else the lawyers may
deem fit, they are used without permission. Technically that is not legal, but
I'm not anticipating any law suits. This work, the plot line, and the
characters introduced that are not already featured on Buffy the Vampire
Slayer are the work of Joshua Jericho Born, Copyright 1998.


==============

Scene 7

"Are you sure Oz won't mind us borrowing his van?" quieried Cordelia from
behind her omnipresent sunglasses. She and Xander were snug in the back of the
aforementioned V.W. wagon, relishing the German proclivity toward comfort and
Oz's sense of exotic decor.

"Considering the fact that we're going to use it to rescue him from a life of
chasing cats and sniffing rears, I don't think he'll mind one bit," quipped
Xander. He surveyed the front of Buffy's house idly.

"Where did the Buffster go off to?" Xander asked curiously.

"Willow needed some help carrying some magic paraphenalia. They should be back
shortly," answered Giles, authoratively seated behind the vehicle's steering
wheel.

"What do you think about Willow getting into the whole witch thing? I mean,
sure if you don't have that great of a social life you need something to pass
the time, but witchcraft? Whatever happend to collecting stamps?" inquired
Cordelia.

"Nothing better than a hobby straight from the Patridge Family to keep you
awake into the wee hours of the night," humorously commented Xander.

"Ok, so she could collect Backstreet Boys posters or something. But, you get
my point," appended Cordelia.

"I don't know if it's very healthy," replied Giles. He gazed out the
windshield thoughtfully and continued, "The black arts can be a slippery slope
into untold darkness. Perhaps encountering this necromancer has shown her what
evil lies at the arcane art's most extreme."

"Mr. Giles," called out Buffy's mother. The front driver's side window rolled
down swiftly at her greeting.

"Oh, hello, Joyce," responded Giles plesantly.

"Now, Buffy already gave you her part of the motel money. Is there anything I
can give you towards food?" questioned mom.

"Don't worry about it, hopefully we won't be more than a day. We're all eager
to retrieve Oz and revel in his company once more," Giles explained. Buffy's
mother was hardly comforted; she didn't seem very pleased with this road trip
at all.

"Who would of thought Willow would be dating a werewolf. She seems like such a
nice girl," mom commented.

"I can assure you that Oz is quite a decent young man," said Giles.

"Of course," affirmed Joyce, she broke her pessimistic glare with a polite
smile. "Oh, here come Buffy and Willow now," Joyce said with a gesturing
glance.

One could hardly make out the image of the duo of friends as they strolled up
the quiet Sunnydale street for they were practically buried in various bags,
boxes, and backpacks. Joyce openend the van door for her daughter and friend,
their cargo threatening to eclipse its capacity.

"Whoa, what is all this stuff?" cried out Cordelia as she moved to make room.

"I wanted to be as prepared as I could," Willow said, tossing her heavy burden
onto the van floor.

"And them some," Buffy added while doing the same to her load.

==============



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "J. Jericho Born" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Flies to Honey" sequel to "The Necromancer" (09/16)
Date: 03 Jan 1999 21:10:14 -0800

TITLE: "Flies to Honey" (Part 09/16)
AUTHOR: J. Jericho Born
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK: Please let me know what you think of my fanfic with some feedback.
DISTRIBUTION: The author reserves rights on this story. Please do not
distribute without expressed permission.
RATING: PG  Contains violence.
SPOILERS: Spoilers to previous fanfic. If you would like to read the preceding
story you can download it at < http://www.sirius.com/~traction/buffy >.
DESCRIPTION: The sequel to "The Necromancer".
DISCLAIMER: The writer of this unauthorized fan fiction is not affiliated with
any of the parties involved in the making of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The
characters are the property of Joss Whedon and whomever else the lawyers may
deem fit, they are used without permission. Technically that is not legal, but
I'm not anticipating any law suits. This work, the plot line, and the
characters introduced that are not already featured on Buffy the Vampire
Slayer are the work of Joshua Jericho Born, Copyright 1998.


==============

Scene 8

About an hour into the drive most casual conversation had been exhausted. What
was left entailed mostly intense window staring punctuated by brief moments of
thumb twiddling. The sleepy late afternoon sang Giles a lullabye while
sluggishness crept in and affected Giles' driving.

"I don't want to sound too mature, but do we have much of a plan?" Xander
asked of no one in particular. The question awoke most of the occupants of the
van, including Giles, which was fortunate because he finally noticed the sedan
that had been trying to pass him for the past half mile.

"What do you mean?" questioned Buffy.

"Finding him is the easy part, but what happens once we do find him? 'Here's a
milkbone, now be a good boy and don't be a werewolf anymore'?" Xander
wondered.

"Oh, don't worry, we can use that ritual that I discovered in Abel's dungeon.
Well, it's not really a ritual, it's more of a potion splattering," answered
Willow.

"You went through the necromancer's lair?" inquired Giles with a touch of
concern.

"Only to find out how to change Oz back," assured Willow.

"I thought you said you need hellfire for that ritual to work," Xander said,
slightly abashed.

"Yes, we do," replied Willow.

"Don't tell me you've attempted to summon hellfire," asked Giles, concern
mounting.

"No. . . well. . . I tried researching it, but there wasn't much written about
it; other than it's really nasty stuff," Willow conceded.

"Very nasty indeed. You must be very careful with your endeavors into the
black arts. Hellfire, the whole of necromancy for that matter, is a very
dangerous vocation. Legend has it that few survive learning to summon
hellfire, let alone wielding it," chastised Giles.

"Speaking of which, why is it that Abel had his hellflame backfire?" wondered
Buffy.

Giles zealously jumped to answering the question, "To be honest, I'm not
entirely sure. I have speculated in my head about it-" His speculations were
cut short.

"It's because he made himself able to feel," interrupted Willow. She explained
further, "When a necromancer artificially induces a sense of feeling he
becomes susceptible to his own hellfire."

"Where did you read that?" inquired Giles obstinately.

"In that book 'The Lost Art of Necromantics'," answered Willow.

"Oh," said Giles, proverbial tail between his legs.

"So where are we going to get hellfire other than eating something with a lot
of garlic?" questioned Cordelia.

"Even if Abel were capable of having an actual thought right now I don't think
he'd be too keen on giving us a helping hand," observed Xander.

"Well if he were awake, let's just pause for a moment to mention how we so do
not want that, then maybe we could set something up," Buffy offered.

"Yeah, all it takes is for Oz to be doused in a few reagents and hit with a
small blast of hellfire and he'll be cured. I'm the last one who would want
Abel up and running, but what if there's no other way," Willow speculated.

"Let's just worry about one thing at a time, shall we? We still need to find
Oz," reminded Giles.

==============



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Can't Hide the Past (3a/?)
Date: 04 Jan 1999 21:10:48 EST

TITLE: Can't Hide the Past
*
AUTHOR: Shadows
*
DISTRIBUTION: Will ya do me a favor and agree to post this somewhere on your
own little archive? Just ask me first. E-mail me at [e-mail]
*
DESCRIPTION: Ok, as I sit down to write this fic, "Amends" is the last episode
that I have seen. I will be following the show from only up to there. Then my
mind will have it's own play.

 Story: 15 years after my own little season three finale, the Scooby Gang
finds themselves thrown together after something *very* strange happens to all
of them.

 Chapter 2: Xander, Willow, and Faith get a little . . . well, ok, a BIG blast
from the past. or blasted into the past. Whatever.
8
NOTE: Since I don't want to write "Young Xander" and "Future Xander" over and
over again, and it doesn't look good, all characters from 2013 will have a F-
preceeding their name, like F-Xander, F-Willow, and F-Faith, once they are in
the past. The characters from 1998 will continue to be spelled like they
always are. Or maybe I'll spell Xander with a "Z" just to spite all you ture
watchers of the show (hmm, overused pun unintended).
*
*
*
Can't Hide the Past
Chapter 2
Part A



    The library fell into silence. Xander looked at F-Xander with wariness. Buffy
and Willow looked at each other with a sense of dread. Giles looked at Xander
and made up his mind that Xander was to do no more research for awhile.

    "Wait, he can't possibly be me!" Xander blurted out with conviction, pointing
at the imposter.

    F-Xander blinked and put on a stunned expression. "Why do you say that?" he
asked, genuinely confused.

    Xander set his jaw. "I mean, look at him." F-Xander spread his arms and
glanced down at his body. Loose black jeans and a form-fitting white shirt
with an unzipped black winter jacket over it. "Those clothes match. I never
match. And the body-just look." It was true; F-Xander was definitely taller,
with broad shoulders and muscles, the kind of build that Angel had. "Honestly,
would I turn out like that? And the face is completely different." The face
*was* different, almost nothing like young Xander's, but the one thing that
was the same was the eyes. Those were Xander's eyes, definitely. But Xander
wasn't about to admit that.

    This was just too damn weird.

    "And the accent," Xander finished with bravado. "I'm not British."

    The other Slayerette's turned imploring eyes to F-Xander. He just looked back
at them. "You don't expect me explain myself, do you?" When there came no
answer, F-Xander turned to Willow. "Willow . . ."

    Willow took a protective step behind Buffy, afraid to look F-Xander in the
eye. Buffy looked at him warily, not sure whether to wait and see if he would
calmly and peacefully tell her why they should believe his claim, or whether
should she force it out of him.

    F-Xander sighed. "Why should I expect anything else?" He moved back to the
computer desk and sat on the edge where there was room. He held out his hand
and began to tick off the things he said on his fingers. "A: Today was a lucky
day. I dressed in the dark-again-and the clothes actually matched. My family
was very proud of me.

    "B: I grew up. Rather well, don't you think? And I work out. Physi-um, much
working out is done." He swallowed uncomfortably as an unpleasant thought
surfaced from the recesses of his mind. "And the face . . . I had a car
accident. It got bashed up pretty bad." His hand touched his face like it was
a tangible reminder of the doctor's work. "And as for the accent-I'm always
quizzed on that, I don't know why, it's not even that noticeable. I spent four
and a half years in England. Never went away, the accent, I mean. But I don't
say 'bloody this' and 'bloody that', or drink tea or eat crumpets, and I don't
wear tweed. Ew. Never had a thing for crumpets, and god knows how many times I
was made to eat those back in Britain."

    At that, F-Xander smiled, and the skin around his eyes and mouth crinkled in
their tell-tale Xander way. Xander's already wide eyes looked like his
eyeballs were going to pop out right on the floor, and Willow muffled a gasp.
This really was Xander.

    "If you are who you say you are," Giles said, getting over the shock, "then
we'll have to return you back where you came from immediately.

    Was it just him, or were they treating him like his younger self had brought
home a puppy from the streets and an annoyed parent was casting the dog out
again? "I was just about to say that," F-Xander said, keeping the question to
himself. "But the word of the day is-how?"

    "W-well," Giles started, moving a hand to reach for his spectacles.

    "Research, huh," F-Xander said dejectedly. His shoulders slumped further. "I
hate the library."


*****


    It was the night of the Winter Solstice, and she should be out there with
Echo right now, right in that beautiful, empty, magick-filled prairie that had
made them choose to live here in the first place, celebrating the birth of the
Sun King. Unfortunately, most of the members of the White Rose Coven were
spread out around North America, and they had had a hard time getting together
this year. The coven was planning to celebrate together some time around the
new year, in the ballroom of some unsuspecting hotel in a city that it was
snowing. Possibly Chicago. MoonRaven had always had a yen for Chicago.

    A quiet shudder ran up the spine of Willow's back. Chicago . . . she
remembered the last time she had been in Chicago. Hellmouth had been touring
just after their first CD, and Willow was freshly scarred from that ordeal
with her parents and still trying to get over from what had happened only
three years ago. Her therapist was back in Florida, and both Oz and Echo had
been a bit shaky on the decision to let Willow tour. Willow said she was
ready, though, and that she could handle it. So off she went.

    She still remembered the scene. She and Echo were at the mall, window
shopping because they had left their purses at the houses and hadn't felt like
going back, since they discovered that little setback halfway to the mall.
Their stomachs had been growling loudly, so they stopped by the food court,
where they mooched off a ton of test foods. They were just coming out, licking
the food from their fingers and giggling widely, when a wild eyed man in his
late thirties had stopped them.

    "Have you seen a little boy?" he had asked them frantically, his hands
flipping nervously at his sides. "He's about up to here-"he put his hand
somewhere by his hip-"and he has shaggy blond hair and the sweetest blue
eyes." He reached out and gripped Willow's arm, his eyes half-crazed. "Please,
I've lost my little boy. You've got to help me find him."

    Echo had gently peeled the man's hand off of Willow's and dropped it, but
Willow's arm was still heavy with it's feel. "I'm sorry, we haven't seen your
son," Echo had said sympathetically, and then began to walk away, dragging a
motionless Willow behind her.

    "Will you tell him to come back, if you see him?" The man called to them, his
voice filled with despair. Willow couldn't help but look back. "If you see
him, tell him to come back. I can't lose my little boy . . ."

    Obviously, something was wrong with this man's mind, but Willow was stung by
his words nonetheless. Emotions had been hard to handle for her lately, and
people were always in some state of depression or hunger or sorrow or despair
or grief . . . she just couldn't handle it. That's what Echo and Oz had been
so hesitant about permitting her to tour. And that's why she had fainted right
then and there, and had to be taken to a hospital because she was having
seizures, brought on by her fragile mental state. And that's why when
Hellmouth toured, Willow always stayed in the hotel room. And that's why the
only people she ever made contact with was fellow band members, close friends,
coven members, and the occasional chip and cheery reporter. That's why she
didn't like to be around people.

    So now she was standing on the balcony, hand and hand with Oz, staring at the
horizon where the sun, in just a few minutes, was sure to make it's
appearance. The sunrise was not only symbolic to the holiday, but a very
romantic setting. Too bad that she was being plagued by unwanted memories.

    Next to her, Oz mistook her internal shiver for external cold, and took off
his jacket and draped it around Willow's shoulders. It wasn't really cold, but
the air conditioner that whirred away inside was blowing quite a current of
air throw the open French doors (Echo had them installed: "Ooo, aren't they
just gorgeous, guys? I want French windows in every apartment we're gonna live
in!"). She knew that Oz was a bit chilly, what from him coming out with a
jacket and all, and snuggled against, returning the little gesture.

    "Who needs a jacket when I have you," Willow said dreamily, closing her eyes
for a moment as she listened to the beat of Oz's heart.

    It raced. "I was just thinking the same thing," Oz said, smiling and holding
her close. He casually encircled his wife's slim waist with one hand and
stroked her beautiful long hair with the other. He loved her hair, loved
playing with it, loved touching it, loved seeing the light reflect off of it.
It was his most favorite part of her . . . well, that and her lips. {And her
heart}. "Same thing."

    Willow's smiled widened and blushed deeply, something she still did around
Oz, even after all these years of being married. The sun was close to rising-
she didn't have to open her eyes to know that the nighttime sky was already an
array of deep oranges and pinks and blues. She could sense the magickal
energy, like a train of power coming at her. It was a wonderful feeling-almost
as wonderful as Oz's love.

    Almost.

    Oz was stroking her face now, ever-so-tenderly as though she were made of
china and he was afraid she would break. "I love you, Willow," he whispered,
and then rested his head on her chin, something that Willow's father use to do
when she was a little girl. Her father was her big protector and hero when she
was young; now that she was older, Oz was her hero, her protector. And so much
more.

    "Oh Oz, I love you so much," Willow said, snuggling closer to . . . a rock?

    Willow opened her eyes wide and pulled away in terror. She didn't give a
glance to her surroundings, just looked at what she had just been hugging. A
marble angel, a beautiful piece of artwork that stood on top of a gravestone.

    Now Willow looked around, wide-eyed. She was in a  graveyard. And not just
any graveyard. She recognized this place.

    Sunnydale City Cemetery.

    "Oh darn," Willow said meekly, hugging herself and looking around wide-eyed.
Graveyards creeped her out. Graveyards were spooky. She hated graveyards.

    Ok, so she was in Sunnydale. She could . . . perhaps, deal with that. She was
a stronger, healthier person, but this was bad. Despite the fact that she had
just been magically transported to Sunnydale, this was not Sunnydale, 2013.
No, Willow knew that the city cemetery was most definitely burned to cinders.
Yet, the cemetery which she beheld with her own eyes was most definitely *not*
burned down to cinders. It was very non-cinder-y.

    Willow took a step back, and realized that her bare feet were digging into
soft, fresh soil. She looked down and saw that her feet were covered in the
dark brown stuff. Willow pulled her feet out one by one and shaked them free
of dirt, stepping into the clean grass to the right of the grave. Then she
leaned over to read the tombstone, one hand on the angel's wing to steady
herself.

    She definitely needed the angel's support. Willow leaned heavily on the wing,
her mind dizzy, her head spinning, her heart racing, and a cold pit of fear
replaced what was once her stomach.

    This was too much to be bargained for.

    As Willow fainted across the grave, a shaft of moonlight from the almost-full
moon above trickled unto the gravestone, shedding light on the marker. It
read:

    ~Shelley Shovanak~
        January 1st, 1974 - December 19th, 1998
        ~May her guardian angel guide her to peace and eternal rest~

    Uh-oh.



////****\\\\ End of Part A ////****\\\\
Feedback is, like, so way wanted. Especially from Marc, who's practically
half-writing this story, what with all his questions that I have to answer!
~Shadows~



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: [e-mail] (C. Catherine)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Becoming One (1c/1)
Date: 04 Jan 1999 19:05:10 -0800

Disclaimers and such in 1a...


*~*~*

"How long has it been?" whispered Buffy to Willow as they sat in wait in
the second pew.

"An hour," Willow whispered back, "What do you suppose happened?"

"You don't think sheà"

"àleft him at the altar?" the redhead said with raised eyebrows, "I don't
know, but as it seemsàshhàOz's coming back."

"Where's Xander, then?"

Oz whispered a few words to the reverend that was presiding over the
wedding ceremony.  The older man nodded and walked to a nearby chair to
sit down.  Oz coughed lightly before speaking into the mike, "UmàI guess
it's my official duty as the best man to tell you all that the wedding
has been cancelled.  The groom wishes me to tell you that he apologizes
for the time that he's taken from your day and he wishes that wherever
Grace Wright is right now, he hopes that she's very happy and content in
her choice to marry her high school sweetheart.  Thank you."

The wedding guests murmured loudly as they stood up to walk out of the
church.  Buffy and Willow followed Oz who had directed them to go out of
one of the side doors to another portion of the ancient, pious edifice.

"Oz, what happened?"  Willow asked of her husband.

"Grace called and told Xander thatà"

"That she doesn't love me, or at least, she's not in love with me,"
Xander finished and his eyes fell to Buffy for a fleeting moment.

Buffy fiddled with her purse and recalled her past words, <"I do love
you, but not like thatànot how you want me to love you.">

With a sigh the former groom continued, "And also that she's gone to
marry who she was initially in love with and forever would be in love
with, her high school sweetheart.  A high school sweetheart in which I
insisted that she invite to the wedding.  Guess why they met up?"

"UhàI think I'll straighten things out with the caterer and the florist,"
Oz said.

"I'll help," volunteered Willow as she followed him.

The married couple left Buffy and Xander in silence.  Buffy took a seat
on the chair beside Xander's.

"Are you going to be okay?"

He turned to meet look at her and nodded slowly, "Yeah, in the eventual,
I guess, but it's not exactly every day that you get left at the altar."

"No, I guess not," she replied smiling lightly at his slight joke,
"Xander, I'm sorry that this happened to youàI know how much you loved
her."

"Thanks," he said looking at her for a moment and then continued, "I
guess I'm cursed, huh?"

Buffy frowned, "What are you talking about?"

"My big moves always somehow end in big failures.  I tell the one girl
I've loved since I first saw her how I felt, and almost ruined a
friendship.  I move on and get hitched, only to get jilted.  Cursed in
loveàthat is I!"

She chuckled softly, "No, Xander, it's just that you haven't found
theày'knowàone."

"And what would this elusive 'one' be?" he said raising his eyebrows.

She sighed and thought for a second, "The one where when you're near that
person, you want to be nowhere elseà"

"Ahàand when you're away, there's no one else you want to be near," he
said nodding.

"Exactlyà"

*~*~*

<àthe way I feel about you,> thought Buffy.

She thought back on that singular moment when she just knew - felt - that
Xander was her 'one.'  That moment had occurred in one of his many LA
business trips, of which after the wedding, he had made sure to visit her
and the rest of the gang whenever possible.  It was a moment that wasn't
anything special or out-of-the-ordinary.  Yet, it caused this incredible
wave of warmth to succumb her, all the while, making her shiver.  It was
filled with this crystal-clear clarity of this feeling, and yet, it
clouded her mind.  It was just singularlyàincrediblyàindescribableà

*~*~*

"I don't know how you do it," said Xander in amazement as he looked at
the painting that Buffy had just completed.

"And I can possibly understand how you can compile many-a 200-page novel
in that brain of yours?" she prompted with raised eyebrows as she washed
the paintbrushes in the sink of her studio.

He laughed and stood beside her with a grin, "I guess not.  Well, as
always, you have your thing and I have mine.  Alls I can say is they both
beat slayage any day."

"I definitely agree to that," she said with a nod and then glanced at the
singular brush she left on her easel and rolled her eyes, "Do you mind
getting me that?"

"No problem," he said and walked to the easel to hand her the brush and
smiled a smile that she had long ago dubbed his smile for herà

*~*~*

àand strange as it was, that was when she knew.  This realization wasn't
fireworks and it wasn't a magical experience that overwhelmed her, but
rather it crept slowly into her acknowledgement.  The moment was
fleeting, but the impact everlasting.  An almost gradual state of bliss
had fallen unto her, but unlike the fleetness of the moment, it seemed to
have come upon her within years, not seconds.

But even that couldn't describe how she felt and although it was months
later, she *still* couldn't pinpoint the exact enough - the perfect
enough - words.  Not that it really mattered.  She was content with her
awareness, but what troubled her was that *he* wasn't aware of it, and so
altered the purpose of coming to New York.  Initially it had been about
her life's work, but days before her arrival, she had determined it to
also be about coming to terms with her life's heart.  And as it was,
tonight was the night.

*~*~*

Buffy and Xander walked out of the restaurant laughingly.

"That was truly an interesting dining experience," he noted with a silly
grin.

"It's not every day I see a grown man shriek at the realization that he
ordered fish eyes," she replied.

"And like you didn't do a little shriek yourself."

"I didn't say I didn't, I only said you didàand you did," she pointed out
and continued, "I can't believe you actually ate it though!"

"My mama always said, life's like a plate of food.  You never let it go
to waste," he imitated and returned to his normal voice, "And I
technically didn't eat it, I only tasted it."

"Eatingàtastingàhowever you word it, you *still* consumed!"

Xander shook his head and sighed, "One thing I've learned after all these
years, never argue with the slayer even if she's of the former kind.  You
win."

"Good.  So, umàdo you want to call a cab or should I?"  Buffy replied
with a satisfied grin.

"Uhàthe hotel's only a couple of blocks away, we could walk this time,"
he suggested.

"Walk?" she said glancing at her feet, "In these shoes?"

"Buffy, you've slayed in those shoes," he said, "Well, maybe not the
exact same pair, but of a similar kind.  Besides a few minutes of walking
can't kill ya and I promise if it doesàI'll give you a nice funeral."

She laughed, "Thank you, Xander.  Somehow knowing thatàmakes me
appreciate you a little more."

 "Awàcome on, humor me?  I ate fishy stuff, tonight.  If not out of pity,
than save the environment from a little exhaust?" he asked.

Buffy sighed and smiled, "Only for the environment."

They walked towards the hotel and Buffy wondered how she was going to
tell him what she had wanted to tell him.  She had rewound her words over
and over again in her mind, but it wasn't the words that mattered as much
as the when.

Before she could contemplate any further, Xander's voice broke into her
thoughts, "Uhày'know there was a hidden reason for me wanting to do the
walking thing."

"Oh?" she said looking at him curiously, "and what was that?"

"Uhàthere's something I've been meaning to tell you all night," he said
and paused.

Her heart told her mind not to jump to conclusions, but she wondered if
he would tell her something that she had wanted him to re-tell her for a
long time.

"And what's that?" she asked as they continued to walk on the sidewalk.

"I met her."

Buffy frowned, "Met her?  Met who?"

"Y'knowàthe one."

She felt her heart sink and lump grew in her throat, but she held her
composure and replied calmly, "You did?  T-t-that's greatàit's
reallyàreally great.  So how l
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: [e-mail] (C. Catherine)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Becoming One (1b/1)
Date: 04 Jan 1999 19:05:05 -0800

Disclaimers and such in 1a...


*~*~*

"Willow, that girl hanging on Xander's armàa friend of yours or Oz?"
Buffy questioned with raised eyebrows as she peeked out of the bride's
dressing room and saw a tall, dark-haired and dark-eyed beauty beside the
best man.

The redhead adjusted her veil and glanced out through the tiny opening
and shook her head, "NoàI've never seen her before.  He told me he was
dating someone awhile back.  I guess that's her, maybe that's what Oz and
he were talking about yesterday.  I mean, one more extra guest wouldn't
matter since a few aren't even going to be able to come to the reception.
 Whoever she is, she must have flown down from New York with him because
he's only been back a week."

"She definitely picked the generous guyàtrips to L.A. from NYC?  Must
have cost Xander a pretty penny," Buffy said.

"Xander's never been big on moneyàI know that he's given a lot to a few
organizations of some of my colleagues," Willow said and she handed her
one of his latest books.

"What's this for?" she questioned holding the book.

"Take a look at the dedicationàthat might be a clue to who she is,"
hinted Willow as she placed an earring in her right lobe.

Buffy opened the book and turned the page to the dedication.  In a
cursive script read:

~~~To my one and only, the ruler of my heart~~~


Ignoring the sad feeling that overcame her and the fading optimism of
what else the girl might have been, she mustered a smile, "That's really
sweetàXander's turning a romantic on us, should we fear?"

"Xander's always been a romantic, you just know it more now," she replied
as she placed the book she handed to her on the table.  "I remember how
he used to talk about you back in high school.  Side from some guy
commentary, he said some really sweet things, even after, he had a major
soft spot for you.  Still does."

"Could have done you better as a gal pal to give me a little idea that he
had a thing for me," said Buffy as she placed a bobby pin in Willow's
hair to help the veil stay.

"Oh, right," she replied, "At what time?  When you were crushing over
Angel and pretty much unintentionally trashed Xander when you said no to
his one and only attempt of asking you out?  Or when you were brooding
over losing Angel and he was dating Cordelia?  While you were in pursuit
of an art career and he was racking his head to get a publishing agent
that could get him published?"

"Okay, you have a point, even when you were playing, 'Ms.
Hands-off-my-particular,' I was having it bad with my major Love Wacky
thoughts over Angel," Buffy said as she adjusted the veil critically in
the mirror, "There."

Willow turned to her and smiled, "Thanks.  Would you have wanted me to
tell you?  I mean, when I had a pretty good idea he was crushing over
you?  What would you have said?"

"I'd probably tell you, I'd talk to him.  Let it plague me for awhile,
and then pull the Spring Fling incident all over again," she admitted as
she remembered their conversation so long ago.

"Well, what about now?"

Buffy frowned, "What do you mean, Wills?  What about now?"

"Hypothetically speaking, I mean.  If I did know he felt that way now and
told you, what would you do?"

"Willow, he has a girlfriend," she said trying to ignore the question.

"Say he doesn't."

"Why are you asking me this?  Now?"

The redhead looked at her friend thoughtfully and replied, "I want to
know if the two main reasons I gave up on my schoolgirl ideas of Xander -
one being Oz and two being that I've always thought you and he had
something - were really facts than reasons.  I know the first one," she
smiled softly, "and I kinda like to know the second."

The former slayer fiddled with the brush in her hand and sat down.  She
fell silent for a moment and looked up at her best friend, "What if told
you that I'd go out with him in a heartbeat?  What would you say?"

"I'd say, when did you realize that?"

"Not too long after he told me he was in love with meà"

"But then why -"

"Not too long after he told me he was in love with me," Buffy repeated
with a sigh and continued, "Not too long after I told him I didn't and
couldn't ever feel the same."

"Buffy, I don't understand."

"And neither do I.  Willow, I can't tell you that I'm in love with him
because I don't know."

"Then why would you be so inclined as to date him?" and Willow hid a
smile as she recalled Xander's "Date me," statement years ago.  "I mean,
after all this time, to risk a friendship by dating him, would kind of
mean that you had some pretty serious feelings for himàright?"

"Iàuhà"

Cordelia Chase, who had somehow named herself the wedding coordinator,
peeked into the room, "Everything's ready to goàthat isàif the bride's
not getting cold feet."

"Me?"  Willow said with a smile as she stood up, "Never."

The so-called coordinator walked out to cue the organist as Willow and
Buffy walked out of the room.  Before Buffy's cue as maid of honor was
made, the bride squeezed her hand and whispered, "We'll talk about it
later."

Upon seeing her cue, Buffy smiled and nodded silently before walking down
the aisleà

*~*~*

Somehow, however, that later never came.  Of course, it might have had
something to do with the announcement that Xander was engagedà

*~*~*


"Oz and Willow, I know it's the honorary customary for the best man to do
the toasting, but for once, I have to say I'm speechless."  Xander began
as he held up a glass of champagne and the crowd of guests laughed at the
joke.  "Well, I guess I've known you guys for a long time and Willow,
here, the longest, and I wish you the best of years and a marriage filled
with happiness and success that I know that you'll have no trouble in
accomplishing.  I can only hope that my engagement and, of course,
marriage, to Grace will be a near equivalent of yours."

Xander sat down as the crowd of guests looked at him in surprised silence
and with a nudge from his fiancΘe, he stood up again laughingly, "Oh,
didn't I tell you all?"  His eyes met Buffy's who sat across the way and
he smiled softly, "I'm getting marriedà"

*~*~*

Even today, Buffy still felt the shock the news had brought to her
system.  She supposed that it had to do with thinking so much and so long
about what she would say to him at the wedding, and realizing that all of
her contemplation didn't matter much - that all of her feelings - didn't
matter much at all.  Despite his announcement though, she had determined
that she would talk to him that day and sort things out, and with a
another contemplative sigh, she supposed that his announcement made
talking all the more easier.

*~*~*

Buffy looked around the room carefully.  The bride and groom had long ago
left, but the party was still in full swing.  Although she saw Xander's
fiancΘe talking to some of the quizzical guests, Xander was nowhere to be
found.  She finally thought to look at the balcony and low and behold, he
was there.  Seeing him there reminded her of the last time she had talked
to him and as she walked towards him, she hoped the outcome of this
balcony conversation was better than the first.

"Hey," Xander said as he turned around to see her.

She smiled, "Hey, yourself.  Long time no see."

He nodded slowly, "Yeah, it has been awhile, hasn't it?"

"I guess time flies when you fall in love," she said.

Xander chuckled softly, "I guess it does."

After a thoughtful pause, he continued, "Buffy, I'm sorry foràwell, I'm
not sorry that I told you what I told you, but I am sorry that I didn't
keep to what I said about us being friends in spite of that."

Buffy shook her head, "It's okayàreally.  I'm just glad that you found
someone who can love you, and who you obviously loveàI'm just happy that
you're happy, and whatever happened in the past doesn't matter as long as
everything's okay now.  Everything is okay, right?"

"More than," he replied.

"So, tell me about Grace.  Tell me about the girl that really stole your
heart."

"I met her not soon after ouràumàtalk and well, Grace Wright is a
wonderful actress, a wonderful woman, a wonderful person and much more.
There's so much to say and not enough words - even for a writer - to say
it in," he said simply.

"Funny, he said the same thing about youàwell sub the actress with
artist," said Grace as she entreated on their conversation.  She took her
fiancΘ's arm, "For a writer, he's not very original."

"Well, I could have told you that," Buffy said with a soft smile.

"I must say, it's a pleasure to finally meet you after hearing so much
about you from Alexander," the actress said.

"Well, I wish I could say the same, butàumàAlexander and I haven't been
able to get in touch with each other in awhile," she replied the full
name felt foreign to her native tongue.  "I guess a lot can happen in a
short while, and in your case, something wonderful.  Congratulations."

"Thank you," Grace said and she turned to Xander, "Honey, it's kind of
late, we should probably head home."

"Uhàyeahà" he said nodding his head in agreement, "We'll see you, Buffy."

"Yeahàsee ya around."

Buffy looked on at the two as they walked away hand-in-hand.  She
supposed that she was happy for himàhappy that he found the happiness he
deserved to have.  Yet, the thickness in her throat, the heaviness of her
heart, and the tears that she held within, spoke of otherwise.

*~*~*

She wasn't sure what made her decide to come to the wedding.  The first
thing she had decided when hearing the wedding date was that she was
going to avoid it all cost.  Yet, as the date drew nearer and
conversations with Xander grew to an almost daily concept, she knew she
had to go.  She had to move on and she had to be a friend, and seeing
Xander happy and his relationship with Grace in a real-to-life
perspective than just through the descriptive tendencies of Xander, would
cause her to do just that.  Of course, that might have happened if indeed
he had gotten marriedà

*~*~*

___________________________________________________________________
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ong have you known that she was the one?"

"For awhile.  One day it just hit me out-of-the-blue that if I were to
never leave her side, I'd the happiest man in the world."

"Andàhave you told her that?  Have you told her how you feel?"

"Buffy, there aren't enough words in the English language for me to use
to say how I feel.  What I'm feeling for her is indescribable and I just
can't seem to find the right time to tell her, or rather, attempt to tell
her.  AndàI don't even know if I *should* tell her."

"What?"  She asked with a frowned as all of these concepts hit just too
close to home, "Why would you - I don'tà"

"FearàI guess.  I've been hurt too many times, BuffyàI mean, I know Grace
was a mistake and I'm not even sure if I could have gone through with the
wedding if it had occurred.  But when she told me that she didn't love me
- wasn't in love with me - so much like that night you told me the same
at Oz and Wills' party, it brought a lot pain back to the surfaceà a
little too much painà"

"I'm sorry that I hurt you, Xander, and I'm sorry that you've had to feel
so much of the bad part of love, but what happened in the past, shouldn't
stop you from telling her how you feel."  Buffy glanced at the hotel that
they had stopped in front of and continued, "Xander, if you know in your
heart that she is the one, if you love her, and if you know that it isn't
a matter of wanting her, but a matter of needing her, then I suggest you
let her know.  If you don't, you may regret it until no endàif you wait,
it might be too late."

"So, you think I should tell her."

"Yeah, I think you should," she said and sighed, "I better get inside.
Thanks for dinner."

"No problem," he smiled, "Good-bye, Buffy."

"Good-bye, Xander."

With that, she walked into the hotel and quickly approached the elevator.
 As she waited for the door to open, the tears that had been threatening
to fall, fell and wetted her cheeks.  Her throat tightened and her chest
ached.  And it wasn't so much the physical that plagued her, but it was
the emotional of the before and the middle and the after.  She had gone
through too much for it to end this way, and the irony of that was that
all that she had gone through didn't make a singular difference.  It
didn't change anything of how that conversation ended at Willow and Oz's
party.  It didn't change her relationship with Xander for better or for
worse.  All it did was made her heart see, her mind know, and both
disappointed.

The doors opened and she walked into the empty elevator and watched the
doors close with the ding of the elevator, but they didn't close.  She
blinked as she saw the doors open again when a hand had stopped them from
closing.

"Xanderà?"

"Buffyà" he said breathlessly and before she could even comprehend the
events, he stepped into the elevator and kissed her.  The kiss spoke of
feelings long contained and of love and of the long journey they had
endured to reach this far - to make this kiss.  It spoke of heartache, of
emotional suffering, of pain that somehow didn't matter because of this
moment unlike the rest.  It was a moment that marked something
difference, marked a level that could only become something better with
each moment thereafter, marked the time to the second when they became
one.

Finally, they pulled away and Buffy leaned her head against his chest
with a sigh.  It felt so right to be in his arms and her arms around him.
 It felt so right to be there and be there forever.

She heard him whisper into her ear, "You're my one and only, the ruler of
my heart.  That dedication was yours when I made it and I knew then and
before and thereafter that it was always going to be you.  I tried to
move onàI tried to find love, but I left my heart to you that night you
told me you didn't love me and I never took it back.  I never intended on
taking it back.  Buffyàyou're the oneà"

___________________________________________________________________
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or call Juno at (800) 654-JUNO [654-5866]



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: [e-mail] (C. Catherine)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Becoming One (1a/1)
Date: 04 Jan 1999 19:05:00 -0800

TITLE: Becoming One (1a/1)
AUTHOR: Taygeta
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK:  Very muchly wanted (bad or good...whatever the complaint)
DISTRIBUTION: Sure, just tell me first.
RATING: PG
KEYWORDS: Buffy/Xander fanfic
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Becoming never happened.
DISCLAIMER:  The characters portrayed in this fanfic and any such
reference to Buffy the Vampire Slayer television series belong to their
creator, Joss Whedon, and their owners, Mutant Enemy productions, Kuzui
Productions, Sanddollar Productions, and 20th Century Fox. In other
words, they do not belong to me.  I am merely borrowing them for this
story.  Copyright infringement not intended.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Becoming One
By: Taygeta

Buffy Summers leaned back on the hotel couch with a sigh, it had been a
long dayàa long, exhausting day.  <To think of an artistàone would think
happy, carefree thoughtsà> she scoffed to herself <yeahàright.>  It's not
that she disliked her career field, she loved it with a passion because
it was place, a realm in its own, and a state of singularity that she had
learned in her youth as her comfort zone.  However, it was one thing to
paint and a whole other thing to host an art show.  <At least it beats
the hell out of pulverizing vampires and demonic baddies to a pasty
pulp,> she thought of the slayer skin she had shed not too long ago when
the Watcher's Council had given her a retirement, something few slayers
ever had to call their own.  She had the deaths of Druscilla, Spike, and
Angelus, and not to mention the Master before, to thank for that.

Angelàthe name hadn't crossed her mind in awhile, or at least she hadn't
let it, as she had spent days like this one - chock full with busy work -
to try and forget.  She had long forgiven herself for the circumstances
surrounding the soul-encumbered vampire, and although she remembered him
and a part of her would always love him, he no longer chained himself to
her thoughts, unlike Xander had for the past year.

She remembered that night at Willow and Oz's engagement party vividlyàthe
laughter, the congratulations, the toasts, the dancing, the music, etc.,
but somehow the meaning of all that was lost as she thought back.  What
held itself with meaning in her mind was a conversation she would change
in a heartbeat with what she realized now.

*~*~*

Her eyes scanned around the crowded room for Xander and frowned when she
couldn't find him anywhere.  Excusing herself from one of the many
confining, boring conversations that she had participated in the entire
night, she went out to search for Oz's named best man.  Dodging away from
more approaching guests, she thought <to hell with Xander, I'm getting
out of here!> and quickly walked out onto the balcony, closing the French
doors behind her.

"Xander," she said in surprise to see him standing against the railing.

He turned to see her stand beside him and smiled, "Decided to bail, did
you?  You were always the strong one, lasted a hell of a lot longer than
I did.  Do you know how many of those people had a copy of my latest
book?  You'd think Oz and Willow had given them out as party favors or
something."

"Oh, come on," she said, "Don't tell me that the attention grabber with
his 'I am Mr. Writer Man' front can't take the fame that comes with being
a world famous author."

"Hardly world famous," he gibed, "More like 'Local Boy Gets Some Respect'
after a few cheesy novels."

She gave him a Look and replied, "Hardly cheesy, Xand, more like 'Local
Boy Writes Good Stuff.'"

"Really?" he said with raised eye brows, "Interesting perspective, Ms.
Artist, I didn't even know you read any of my works."

"I've got a couple books lying around, of which haven't been signed with
your scrawl of a signature," she hinted, "And I think I have your latest
novel somewhere like in my hand."

"Accompanied with a pen?" he asked as he took the book.

"Sorry, I only provide the book, seeing as how I was going to try and
finish the last three chapters," she said as she eyed the book carefully.

"Ahàout for some late night bookage," he said with a nod as he pulled a
pen from his pocket and stood in thought.

Buffy stared at him and smiled as she noted how the awkward youth had
grown to be at 24.  He had always been handsome, but in his Italian suit,
he added stylish and mature to the word, and the goatee that he sported
added to that maturity.  Realizing that she was staring just a little
longer than necessary, she quickly turned away and glanced at the sky,
"It's nice out here, don't you think?  A nice night for our two happy
friends in there."

"Extremely happy friends," he said as he glanced up, "It's kind of weird
that they're getting married, I mean, it seemed that just yesterday we
were worrying about vampires and creatures of the night.  Now, it's
wedding plans for the wolf and the witch."

"The wolf and the witch, I'm not sure how far you can actually say we've
come from the creatures of the night," Buffy said, "But it is definitely
a beautiful, peaceful night, especially when you don't have hoards of
guests talking to you at every turn."

"Peacefulàyeah," he said and then he looked at her and said, "And
definitely beautiful."

She crimsoned and smiled under his glance and the looked at the closed
book in his hands, "Umàare you done?"

"Yeah, here," he said handing her the novel with some hesitance.

Opening the cover, she read the neat scrawl:

To Buffy:
 With all the love in my heart, with all the love that is within me.
Xander

She stood in silence with the opened volume and a slightly agape
expression and then glanced at him, "Xanderà?"

"I know it's sudden, but I had to tell you.  I've wanted to tell you that
for so long, I've wanted you to know for so long, and there never seemed
to be the right time or the right place and I'm thinking now that this is
neither the right time or place.  But, I don't care.  You have to know
that I love you.  That I've been in love with you ever since that day I
first saw you.  Ever since then, it's never been anything but that.  "

"I - I don't know what to say," she stammered, "This is beyond sudden,
this is like instantaneous."

"I know my timing for romantic announcements are always off-key, and this
is certainly not an exception, but keeping this from you for all these
years, feeling this way, my audacity can't exactly surprise you.  As to
what to tell meà  Say you love me," he said, "Or say you don'tàsay
anythingàjust tell me where I stand.  I'm 24-years-old, Buffy, and
although that isn't exactly Father Time, I want to be able to move onàif
I have to."

"Xander, I do love you, but not like thatànot how you want me to love
you," she said wondering how all of this had suddenly come into play.
"You're my best friend, you know more about me than even I know about
myself, but I don't think I canàlove youàin that wayàever.  I'm sorry."

He shook his head, "Don't be.  I thought that maybe - well - doesn't
really matter what I thought 'cause I thought wrong, and I'm really
embarrassed, not to mention disappointed, slightly hurt, and I think I'll
go inside now before everything gets decidedly worse."

"Xander, don't be like this," she said as he approached the door, "Tell
me we're still friends?"

Glancing at her before he walked in, he said, "Of course, we're still
friends, and at this rate, we'll always be friends.  I'd rather lose my
heart than lose you forever.  It's just not what I want us to be, but
heyàI can deal.  This is what I wanted to hear.  After all, there are a
lot of things in this world I can't have and now I can say you're one of
them.  Although I wish to God you weren't because try as I might, I'll
never find anyone else like youàever.  And for that, I'm sorryà"

*~*~*

And try as she might, she couldn't forget that night and what had been
said.  She avoided him at all costs and he did the same by flying back to
New York a week or so later.  They didn't see each other until 6 months
after, where avoidance was impossible at the wedding of Willow and Oz.

Within those six months, Buffy found herself thinking a lot about Xander,
and analyzing what exactly it was she felt about him.  Although what she
said to him that night hadn't exactly been a lie, it wasn't exactly true,
either.  The truth being that even before that incident on the balcony,
she had had doubts on the premise of her feelings for him, but apparently
her contemplation didn't really much matter on their friends' wedding
day.  She sighed and realized that if there was anything she learned that
day, it was that the ability to find someone else wasn't as difficult as
it was made to sound.

___________________________________________________________________
You don't need to buy Internet access to use free Internet e-mail.
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or call Juno at (800) 654-JUNO [654-5866]



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "J. Jericho Born" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Flies to Honey" sequel to "The Necromancer" (10/16)
Date: 04 Jan 1999 22:18:26 -0800

TITLE: "Flies to Honey" (Part 10/16)
AUTHOR: J. Jericho Born
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK: Please let me know what you think of my fanfic with some feedback.
DISTRIBUTION: The author reserves rights on this story. Please do not
distribute without expressed permission.
RATING: PG  Contains violence.
SPOILERS: Spoilers to previous fanfic. If you would like to read the preceding
story you can download it at < http://www.sirius.com/~traction/buffy >.
DESCRIPTION: The sequel to "The Necromancer".
DISCLAIMER: The writer of this unauthorized fan fiction is not affiliated with
any of the parties involved in the making of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The
characters are the property of Joss Whedon and whomever else the lawyers may
deem fit, they are used without permission. Technically that is not legal, but
I'm not anticipating any law suits. This work, the plot line, and the
characters introduced that are not already featured on Buffy the Vampire
Slayer are the work of Joshua Jericho Born, Copyright 1998.


==============

Scene 9

"We're here," announced Giles after carefully parking in a rather cramped
motel lot, using the dwindling dusk light and a few tacky neon signs as his
only sources of illumination.

"Finally," yawned Cordelia. "How about if I drive on the way back and cut down
on the travel time," she suggested.

"A good idea in all respects except one: I'm sure Oz would appreciate us
keeping his prized van in one piece," declined Giles, exiting the vehicle as
he spoke. He called out from over his shoulder, "Don't forget the luggage."

To Willow's dismay both Buffy and Cordelia began to leave the van, carrying
only their own relatively trivial cargo. She looked over the mass of items she
had brought with concern.

"Guys," pleaded Willow, "What about all of my stuff?"

"I think it's only fair if Cordy helped you out this time," reasoned Buffy.

"Please," rebuked Cordelia, "Just because Willow is trying to be miss voodoo
princess doesn't mean I have to do hard labor." Cordelia marched off following
Giles after her selfless declaration.

"Will, why don't you get Xander to help you out?" Buffy suggested. She, too,
went in the direction Giles had gone.

Slightly peeved, Willow leaned over to a snoozing Xander. She prepared her
most tender, helpless voice to beseech him with. After a moment's hesitation
she opted for another approach.

"Xander," Willow said with a couple well aimed pokes to the rib cage. Xander
shook himself from his sleep and fought to regain his bearings.

"Xander," reiterated Willow. She paused until she thought Xander was listening
to some degree and continued, "Giles said you should bring the luggage."
Without a moments delay, she scurried off to join the others.

Willow found the trio of Giles, Cordelia, and Buffy huddled outside their
potential lodgings. It was a rather disconcerting sight; dingy when applied to
the motel would be a complement. Broken windows, rotting doorframes, and grimy
exteriors were the best features of this establishment.

"Ok, Giles, now I know you don't want to waste money, but you're pinching one
too many pennies with this," said a disgusted Cordelia.

"I was told these were the best accomodations in Weberton," said Giles in
reply.

"I hate to see what the bad places look like," commented Buffy.

"Yeah, I mean, this thing is a star short of being a one star hotel,"
criticised Cordelia.

"Weberton isn't the most affluent community in California," informed Willow.

"Well, let's enter, shall we?" sighed Giles.

The group of slayerettes entered the check-in office warily. Behind the front
desk sat a man who looked like he frequented fast food establishments, clad
only in a wifebeater undershirt and beaten-up khakis. A seemingly ancient
television set was his only company.

"Well look here, you must be the English guy who called," observed the front
desk clerk. He introduced, "My name is Eddie."

"Very nice to meet you, Mr. . . uh. . . Eddie," greeted Giles.

"And how are y'all doing this afternoon?" inquried Eddie with a working man's
charm.

"Fine, thank you," answered Giles.

"How about the classy ladies you got here, how are y'all doing?" Eddie asked
while addressing Buffy.

"Fine," simply replied Buffy.

"Just fine?" Eddie questioned further.

Buffy answered impudently, "Just fine." The ill feeling in her stomach
continued to grow worse. This was her first major road trip in her Slayer
capacity, she was hoping for it to make a better impression. Buffy quickly cut
short her train of thought and attributed it to her insatiable need to make
her dislike of this ogre behind the counter painfully aware, but deep down she
knew it held more signifigance.

"Now if I remember right you needed two rooms for the evening," said Eddie,
speaking to Giles once again.

"That's correct," Giles affirmed.

"That'll be thirty-two dollars then," said Eddie. Giles pulled out his wallet
and stumbled through it to retrieve the desired amount.

"For another twenty I'll make sure the cops don't come by tonight and do the
whole vice routine," offered Eddie.

Giles looked quite offended and replied angrily, "The only thing we'll be
doing in the middle of the night shall be sleeping."

"Of course, of course. This is a class establishment," agreed Eddie. "Speaking
of being a class establishment, all these gals are eighteen, right?" he
appended.

"That's of no concern of yours," chastied Giles, he placed a handful of cash
on the counter top.

"Ok, if you want to play it that way. Far as I know, jack, they're all legal,"
said Eddie as he handed over a few keys and a receipt.

"Thank you very much," said Giles with a touch of sarcasim. The four turned to
leave with a colorful first impression of Weberton on their minds.

==============



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "J. Jericho Born" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Flies to Honey" sequel to "The Necromancer" (11/16)
Date: 04 Jan 1999 22:19:26 -0800

TITLE: "Flies to Honey" (Part 11/16)
AUTHOR: J. Jericho Born
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK: Please let me know what you think of my fanfic with some feedback.
DISTRIBUTION: The author reserves rights on this story. Please do not
distribute without expressed permission.
RATING: PG  Contains violence.
SPOILERS: Spoilers to previous fanfic. If you would like to read the preceding
story you can download it at < http://www.sirius.com/~traction/buffy >.
DESCRIPTION: The sequel to "The Necromancer".
DISCLAIMER: The writer of this unauthorized fan fiction is not affiliated with
any of the parties involved in the making of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The
characters are the property of Joss Whedon and whomever else the lawyers may
deem fit, they are used without permission. Technically that is not legal, but
I'm not anticipating any law suits. This work, the plot line, and the
characters introduced that are not already featured on Buffy the Vampire
Slayer are the work of Joshua Jericho Born, Copyright 1998.



==============

Scene 10

"Everyone get decent in there, here come the males," warned Xander through a
shotty motel room door. He walked in with a boyish grin that could barely fit
in the tiny room.

"Disappointed?" questioned Cordelia with a smile that threatend to match
Xander's.

"I'm only disappointed from the waist down. I'm stoked to get Oz home," Xander
replied candidly.

"Speaking of which," segued Giles, entering with newspaper in hand. He
continued, "According to this, there have been a string of sightings of a
'large feral dog' around an abandoned warehouse here in Weberton. It matches
the description of a werewolf."

"This is of the good," observed Buffy.

"Yes, but, the bad news is there has also been a young boy that has
disappeared in conjunction with these sightings," added Giles.

Obligatory silenced ensued as the possiblity of a child dying at the hands of
their friend sunk in.

"Well, it was to be expected. After all, werewolves hunt, it's what they do.
It's not like Oz can help it, he's not in control," rationalized Xander with a
worried glance towards his best friend.

"We're going to go down to the warehouse where the boy disappeared after we
unpack, right?" inquired Buffy.

"Forget unpacking, let's go now," boldly stated Willow. Mutual agreement was
received with the group's common lack of a reply.

"Hey, hey," yelled a voice accopanying a palette of exhuberant noises from the
outside of the lodgings establishment. Out of force of habit, Buffy quickly
found herself poised at the motel doorway. The others peered through a
tarnished window to see what was going on. Outside was their beloved landlord
Eddie embracing another equally indigent looking man as if he were his long
lost brother.

The gathered onlookers caught Eddie's attention and he called out happily,
"Hey, take a look at my pal Steve here."

"Steve," addressed Eddie, "Meet Mr. . ." His sentence tailed off as he
searched for a name.

"Hey, what was your name again, pops?" hollered Eddie.

"Giles," came a shout back.

"Meet Mr. Giles, he's a new guy, an English dude with a very lovely vintage in
chicks," introduced a still excited Eddie.

"Steve just got out of jail," joyfully yelled Eddie with a makeshift dance
step and a playful grapple on his reunited aquaintence.

"How very sweet," Giles said, bathing in sarcasim. "Let's go, shall we?" he
added with grumbled disgust.

==============



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "J. Jericho Born" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Flies to Honey" sequel to "The Necromancer" (12/16)
Date: 04 Jan 1999 22:20:32 -0800

TITLE: "Flies to Honey" (Part 12/16)
AUTHOR: J. Jericho Born
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK: Please let me know what you think of my fanfic with some feedback.
DISTRIBUTION: The author reserves rights on this story. Please do not
distribute without expressed permission.
RATING: PG  Contains violence.
SPOILERS: Spoilers to previous fanfic. If you would like to read the preceding
story you can download it at < http://www.sirius.com/~traction/buffy >.
DESCRIPTION: The sequel to "The Necromancer".
DISCLAIMER: The writer of this unauthorized fan fiction is not affiliated with
any of the parties involved in the making of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The
characters are the property of Joss Whedon and whomever else the lawyers may
deem fit, they are used without permission. Technically that is not legal, but
I'm not anticipating any law suits. This work, the plot line, and the
characters introduced that are not already featured on Buffy the Vampire
Slayer are the work of Joshua Jericho Born, Copyright 1998.


==============

Scene 11

"So this is the place?" said Cordelia rhetorically, standing before an
extremely run down building that dwawfed her in size. It seemed to come
straight out of the Depression, complete with peeling paint and roofs
decorated with gaping holes. Aparently, the locals had used it as an impromptu
dumping grounds; trash in various forms littered its sides, providing visual
breaks amongst the weeds that ringed the warehouse obstrusively.

The abandoned decor of the warehouse blended right in with the unkept
neighborhood, which's reason for being had long since forgotten. If any
building in the area had seen use in the past twenty years there was no
noticible signs of it. Indeed the warehouse was right a home, its foreboding
nature augmented by the still darkness of the lonely Weberton night.

"What's up with the soup bowl, Will?" asked Xander curiously. Willow carefully
held a small, rough stone bowl between her hands. In it was a clump of hair
suspended in a clear, if pungent, liquid.

"This is a little something I enchanted the other night. It'll help us find
Oz. The clump of Oz's hair will be pulled in the direction that he is in, we
can use it like a compass to find him," explained Willow, shifting her feet
discretely, half out of anticipation and half out of frustration.

"Oh, cool. Wait a minute, where'd you get a clump of Oz's hair?" questioned
Xander.

Willow shrugged off the question as she examined her apparatus in
disappointment.

"Darnit, it's not working!" she exclaimed, frustrated.

"Maybe he's out of range," offered Buffy.

"No, the lady at the shop said it has a range of over a mile. I probably
screwed up the incantation," said Willow bitterly.

"Willow, don't beat yourself up," Xander comforted warmly.

Giles added himself to the group, hauling a burden of a half dozen chains and
restraints.

"I'm very glad that Eddie fellow didn't have occasion to see these. I don't
think I could have tolerated the cracks he would have made," commented Giles.

"Well, Buffy, since you're everyone's favorite ass kicker, you get to take the
point," wittingly said Xander.

Buffy abliged dutifly, walking toward the spooky building with the greatest of
ease in her step. She hadn't realized exactly how jaded with abandoned
buildings she had become. It felt as though she were right at home in the
creepy backdrop that her latest adventure had visited upon her. The behemoth
door was no match for the uncommon strength of the Slayer, she easily brought
it of its rusted hinges and tossed it to the side.

"Flashlight," requested Buffy as she peered into the expansive darkness,
reaching out her hand back casually.

"Uhhhh," garbled Giles as he searched his pockets.

"Don't tell me with all that junk we brought no one bothered to bring a
flashlight," said Cordelia disapprovingly.

"I could go back to the van and get some sulfur to try to cast an illumination
spell," offered Willow in a nervous attempt to mitigate the group's
shortsightness. Buffy had noticed her friend had been quick to offer to cast
spells like they were going out of season. She decided on making a mental note
to mention it later.

"How long will that take?" inquired Buffy.

"I don't know exactly," replied Willow timidly, avoiding the other's eyes.

"Have you ever even tried such an incantation?" asked Giles.

"Well, no, but I've always wanted to," Willow answered with a sheepish
expression, gripping her bowl insecurely as if hanging on for dear life.

"Great, we're looking like such losers right now," commented Cordelia.

"Oh, wait, here we go," Xander said as he produced a key chain from his
pocket.

"Xander, the keys to your hope chest won't help us here," said Cordelia
sarcastically.

"No, look," replied Xander as picked out a small red cylinder among the
assortment of keys and held it between his thumb and index finger. Out of what
seemed to be a pinhole came the most insignifigant, pitiful light that all
those present had ever laid their eyes on. A wide, if sheepish, grin graced
Xander's face while he glanced at the surrounding onlookers expectantly.  No
one said a word, however.

"Stylin' huh?" questioned Xander through his smile. Not a reply was given, all
merely stared on in disbelief.

The assembled souls that had collectively slayed vampires, vanquished demons,
kept the undead in check, and fought an assortment of insect like creatures
now found themselves huddled around an underpowered pen light that threatend
to exhaust its battery at any moment. The mass of humanity led by an undaunted
Slayer made its way through the spacious warehouse, attempting to find their
way through the dark and avoid obtructing clutter.

"Wait," warned Buffy a few moments before halting in her tracks. Regardless of
her warning, the assembly of wary Slayerettes soon found themselves walking
into each other's backs.

"What's the hold up?" asked Giles with a whisper.

"It's the wall," answered Buffy.

"Already?" idly asked Xander.

"There's a light switch over there," declared Giles. He gave the switch a good
flick and much to his surprise a few dusty old lightbulbs hummed to life,
causing a rather comprehensive representation of the rodent family to scurry
away for cover.

The interior of the warehouse lived up to the expectations cast by its
exterior. The dirty, yellow tungsten lights caused the entire scene to be made
of various shades of brown. A square, hollow box of rotting wood with a few
windows was all the warehouse amounted to. The contents were just as plain, a
upturned broken crate here, an old magazine there, the inside of the building
was the spitting image of inconspicous. A worn out odor cast the scene in an
overall pitiful mood.

"Well, let's see. One watcher, check. One Slayer, check. Her cold and tired
friends, check. One werewolf, nope. On to the next building," said Xander
wryly.

"Why would an abandoned building be serviced with electricity?" wondered Giles
aloud.

"If it makes you feel better you can call the electric company and let them
know they are wasting all of 40 watts. Come on, we have a werewolf to find,"
Xander said hurriedly, turning to leave.

"No, wait. Is it just me or is the inside of the building a lot smaller than
outside?" inquired Willow.

"You're right," agreed Buffy, "You think this place has a houdini room?"

"Yeah, and I think we're in it," answered Willow.

Cordelia a strangled cry, the wall she was casually leaning up against had
collaspsed away. Buffy and Willow exchanged looks before running over to
survey what was beyond the newly found entryway.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking-" facetiously began Cordelia, gazing through the
opening she had just created she blurted out, "Whoa, look at that!"

==============



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Snowball's Chance" (5/?) by Chase DeKota
Date: 05 Jan 1999 22:59:00 EST

TITLE: Snowball's Chance
AUTHOR: Chase DeKota
EMAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK: Please. Don't make me beg, 'cause I will.
DISTRIBUTION: Just let me know.
RATING: PG-14
SPOILERS and TIMELINE: The story pretty much carries itself. Haven't seen
"Amends" yet, but I'm pretty sure this is just prior. Or maybe just after.
Spoilers
all the way through "The Wish" just to be safe.
SUMMARY: Thus far - Benefit concert at the museum. The Scooby Gang has bee=
n
'volunteered' to help with it. While chasing a strange girl she met during
patrols, Buffy discovers that Ethan Rayne is back in town.
DISCLAIMER: The world of BtVS belongs to 20th Century Fox, with nods to Jo=
ss
Whedon and company; I'm only visiting it. 'Mac' and her magick appear cour=
tesy
of
J.J. Benike. A salute to my army of proofreaders (all four).  To those who=
've
offered feedback on previous parts: Thank you!! Thank you!! Thank you!! An=
d
please, keep it coming!

=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D
Snowball's Chance
By:  Chase DeKota
Part: 5/?
=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D

Buffy checked her watch and frowned.

There should've been a big yellow bus.  There should've been a crowd of
students milling, avoiding boarding for the trip back until the last possi=
ble
minute.  There
should've been Principal Snyder, clipboard in hand, calling off names and
daring
anyone to be late.

There was only the empty curb.

< Did I miss it? > she wondered, but quickly decided she hadn't.  Her watc=
h
read 1:34pm, nearly an hour and a half before the scheduled departure time=
.
The clock inside the museum confirmed she still had plenty of time.

Problem was, her watch had read five minutes to three just moments ago.  B=
uffy
was dead certain of this.  She was beginning to suspect something terribly
wrong with the whole 'big picture.'  Also, she was beginning to suspect sh=
e
was losing her mind.

But first things first.

Hurrying back to where she'd last seen Ethan Rayne - who *had* to be at fa=
ult,
somehow - Buffy found the office as deserted as the curb out front had bee=
n.
Not surprising.  The surprise came in the office's state of array.

She could recall books scattered across every inch of the small room, volu=
mes
stacked on every flat surface, more piled precariously on the desk.  What =
she
saw
now was a small office neatly organized, with the books in their proper pl=
aces
on the shelves.  A fine layer of dust had begun to settle; it looked like =
it
hadn't been touched
in weeks.

Not quite ten minutes had elapsed since she'd made that run for the bus.  =
It
would
have taken hours to put all those books back on their shelves.  Buffy knew
this from experience.  She needed a second opinion.

Her friends smiled with relief when they saw her coming.  "Buffy!  Where h=
ave
you been?" Willow asked.  "Snyder noticed you were gone."

"But we covered for you."  Xander winked conspiratorially, catching the
slightly
worried look that came over the Slayer's face.  "So, where've you been?"

Pushing a stack of folded programs aside, Buffy flopped down across from h=
er
friends.  "I'm beginning to think Xander's right," she remarked.

"Yes!"  The boy grinned wide, then grew confused.  "About what?"

"Bad things happening every time we come to the museum," she explained,
"although, I'm not sure how bad it is this time."

The two teens leaned in, curious, as Buffy explained.

=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D

Air didn't circulate well in the library.  Dust removed from countertops
resettled
within minutes.  That was partially why no one ever bothered to dust.
Besides,
that was part of what made it 'the library' -- dusty, dimly lit, and smell=
ing
of old
books.  And it was quiet.

Usually.

"Giles!  Where are you?"

The feminine voice rang out simultaneously as its owner burst into the roo=
m.
A few seconds later, two more teenagers plowed through the still-swinging
doors, out of
breath from trying to keep up.

"Giles?  This is important."

How the librarian could not have heard the entrance of the Slayer and comp=
any
was beyond comprehension.  Yet, Rupert Giles stepped out of his office and
smiled
at the group as if he were surprised to see them standing there.  "Oh, you=
're
back!
How was your, um, community service?" he asked.

"I wish the judge had sent us to reform school instead," Xander quipped.

Willow stifled a giggle.  "Oooh=85like we're a bunch of juvenile delinquen=
ts,"
she said,
her voice deepening with a bit of attitude.  Her grin faded quickly as she
realized something.  Many people did, in fact, regard the Slayer and
Slayerettes as troublemakers.

"We've got a problem," Buffy announced, and the others looked to her
expectantly.  "Guess who's back in town.  Ethan Rayne."

That got a noticeable reaction from Giles.  "You saw him where?"

"At the museum."

"Did he give any indication as to what he's up to this time?"

Buffy paused.  "I didn't get to question him for long but," she paused and
took a
deep breath.  "He said he was looking for a book."  She spoke the words as=
 if
they sounded completely ludicrous.  For the most part, they did.

 "A book=85?"  Giles was not so much as bothered by this as puzzled.  "Tha=
t's
all?"

"Well, it's not like we talked over cappuccino.  My watch lost track of ti=
me
and I
thought I was going to miss the bus.  By the time I realized it was off, E=
than
was
gone."

"Of course.  You did the right thing."  Giles was drifting off mentally,
trying to piece
the puzzle together.  He was getting that 'look' that said: 'I have a theo=
ry
about what's going on, but I'm not going to share it with anyone.'  Buffy
frowned as he retreated into his office.

"I need to make a phone call," he said and closed the door.

=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D




-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: Jill Kirby <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Admin:  IMPORTANT.  Please read.
Date: 06 Jan 1999 19:41:21 -0600 (CST)

Effective January 23, 1999, the Xmission Buffy discussion list and the Xmission Buffy fiction list will stop operations.

This was not an easy decision for us to make, but real life is becoming increasingly intrusive.  One of us is writing her dissertation, one is rehabbing a house, all of us have jobs and personal lives-- and all of these things get in the way of running the kind of list we want to run.  So, reluctantly, we're giving it up.

There are numerous other great Buffy lists out there, as well as a very active newsgroup.  We'd encourage people to post about these other lists so that no one becomes "Buffy list deprived" after this list stops functioning.  :)

You don't need to do anything if you want to stay onlist until the end-- the list will just go away, and you'll be automatically uns*bbed.  Or, as always, you can uns*b any time before the 23rd.  Needless to say, we will not be processing any new subscription requests as of this date.  In terms of the list rules-- we'll continue to enforce the rules on flaming, spoilers and the four-line quote rule.

ALSO:  As of the 23rd, all archives will go away-- and this includes the fiction archives.  If there's something you want, get it now.

Thanks to all of you for making this a list that we were proud to run.

Jill & Sharon, listowners
Lisa Rose, assistant listowner
          Jill Kirby ~~  [e-mail]
    www.geocities.com/SoHo/Lofts/4107
"Out on the edge you see all kinds of things you can't see from the
center.  Big, undreamed of things - the people on the edge see them
first. I want to stay as close to the edge as I can without going over."
             - -Kurt Vonnegut Jr.



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: [e-mail]
Subject: Re: BUFFYFIC: Admin:  IMPORTANT.  Please read.
Date: 06 Jan 1999 21:35:51 EST

Yowsers...well, here's my questions:

1) Does anyone have any suggestions for good buffy fiction lists?
2) What's the URL of the archives?

Thanks,
Rachel



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "Ian and Tiff" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: BBETA Fic List...
Date: 06 Jan 1999 18:47:21 -0800

Just a quick note for anyone looking for a new Fic list to join since
buffyfic is going away.  :(

I highly recommend the Buffy Beta (bbeta) fiction list.

I've put sub info for it below.

Take care!
-Tiff

============

The beta-readers' group for *Buffy, the Vampire Slayer* fanfic!

This list is for beta readers and fanfic Not Quite Ready for the ASH list,
your page, etc.  If you want opinions on fic, this is the list for you.
If you want to read fic, this is also the list for you; just keep in mind,
you *are* supposed to comment on it, give suggestions, etc.


List stuff:

Subscribing - To Real Time
1) To subscribe:
   a. Send mail with your e-mail address to
   [e-mail].
   b. Put "s*bscribe buffy-beta" in the body of the message. (replace the *
with a u)

Subscribing - To Digest
1) To subscribe:
   a. Send mail with your e-mail address to
   [e-mail].
   b. Put "s*bscribe buffy-beta-digest" in the body of the message. (replace
the * with a u)








-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: sah <[e-mail]>
Subject: Re: BUFFYFIC: Admin:  IMPORTANT.  Please read.
Date: 06 Jan 1999 21:33:44 -0500

At 09:35 PM 1/6/99 EST, [e-mail] wrote:
>2) What's the URL of the archives?

The regular list is archived at:
ftp://ftp.xmission.com/pub/lists/buffy/archive/

The fiction list is archived at:
ftp://ftp.xmission.com/pub/lists/buffyfic/archive/

--sah

sah * [e-mail] * [e-mail]
NatPack * Jungle Patrol * Bishop * BBPG:TGLIL * BTVS Colistowner
"IE took over my entire PC and I had to delete it, while chanting an exorcism
ritual.  It's an evil, evil thing and must be stopped."  --jtk



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Can't Hide the Past (3b/?)
Date: 06 Jan 1999 22:36:50 EST

TITLE: Can't Hide the Past
*
AUTHOR: Shadows
*
DISTRIBUTION: Will ya do me a favor and agree to post this somewhere on your
own little archive? Just ask me first. E-mail me at [e-mail]
*
DESCRIPTION: Ok, as I sit down to write this fic, "Amends" is the last episode
that I have seen. I will be following the show from only up to there. Then my
mind will have it's own play.

 Story: 15 years after my own little season three finale, the Scooby Gang
finds themselves thrown together after something *very* strange happens to all
of them.

 Chapter 2: Xander, Willow, and Faith get a little . . . well, ok, a BIG blast
from the past. or blasted into the past. Whatever.
8
NOTE: Since I don't want to write "Young Xander" and "Future Xander" over and
over again, and it doesn't look good, all characters from 2013 will have a F-
preceeding their name, like F-Xander, F-Willow, and F-Faith, once they are in
the past. The characters from 1998 will continue to be spelled like they
always are. Or maybe I'll spell Xander with a "Z" just to spite all you ture
watchers of the show (hmm, overused pun unintended).
*
*
*
Can't Hide the Past
Chapter 2
Part B



    She was so tired. She'd been on the road for so long, in that truck of hers
(well, the truck driver that she had taken it from didn't deserve it, after
what he'd tried to do to her) which had broken down about a mile from where
Buffy lived. She had walked all the way to the Daly {god it's so hard to
accept that Buffy's married} house in the rain, probably catching a cold, and
to top it all off, had to fight a vampire. And now, when she was in a nice,
comfy room in a nice, comfy setting, the air between Buffy and her was not the
only thing uncomfortable. The damned leather couch was pretty uncomfortable,
too.

    Ok, ok, so she'd sleep on anything, but something was really wigging her out
about this place. Not the actual place, just this house. She knew how to sense
mystical forces, and they were very near to here, however dormant. For a
second, she wondered if this Hollywood suburb was on a Hellmouth.

    "Wouldn't that be interesting," Faith said wryly, propping her head up on the
arm of the couch and stretching her legs. She wondered if she could watch TV
here, since she was just itching to see the picture on the enormous DigiTel.

    The energy she sensed grew louder. The prophecy that her Watcher had warned
her of flicked through her mind. Could it . . . no way. Faith shrugged the
thought away. In the morning, when Buffy came back down to shoo her out of the
way of her husband and daughter, faith would bluntly drop the information on
her, and then leave. She didn't want to stay *here* for too long.

    She was just leaning over to reach the remote, precariously balanced on the
sofa's edge, when she felt as though her body had been dipped in ice-cold
water. The shock ran like needles throughout her whole body, gripping her mind
in a state of panic. She screamed-

    -and gasped in surprise as water flooding into her mouth and choked on her
closed passage.

    Faith's eyes widened, and then sensation turned into an image around her. She
in the water, blue-green water, and the sunlight was playing all over the sand
by her feet. *Sand*. And the water that had gotten to her mouth was salty-sea
water.

    Oh god, she was drowning in the sea.

    Faith did a scissors kick, reaching up vainly with her arms towards the
sunlight that was visible above. She was never a good swimmer, and she had
always swum in rivers or really, really peaceful lakes. Oceans were big.
Oceans were unpredictable. Oceans were scary.

    The fact that she was strong and hadn't had to float all the way down to the
floor had done her good. She had broken the surface in just under a few
minutes, gasping for breath and trying to clear the hair out of her eyes while
keeping afloat. She blinked, trying to get the stinging feeling out of her
eyes. She rubbed them, but it only made it worse.

    There. A strip of shore. Beach. Sand. Land. Faith remembered a long time ago,
when she was 13, and the really cute instructor was trying to teach her how to
swim. "I want to swim just like those Olympic people," she had told him, and
he had taught her the move with her hands, the butterfly or chest something-
or-other. She couldn't remember the name, but for the life of her she'd better
remember how to do it.

    God she was freezing, and her legs were aching. *Deal* Faith told herself
angrily, and began to swim towards the bit of shore.

    Did she mention how the ocean was unpredictable? She didn't feel the large
wave come up behind her, hardly noticed the little ripples that proceeded it.
Then she was up in the air for a brief moment, carried on the lump, and then
she was dashed down into the water like a stone, suddenly losing all sense of
where up or down and left or right were. Her brain, not knowing how to deal
with being cut off from everything, pumped adrenaline into her brain. She
kicked furiously, driven by the frenzy created in her veins, but she couldn't
match the swirling waters of the wave, and she let her body go slack as the
wave tossed her like a rag doll towards the shore . . .


*****

    As Faith groggily came back to awareness, the first thing she noticed was
that she was freezing cold, and that while her mouth was not moving, her teeth
were on the verge of chattering frantically. The next thing that she noticed
was the small bit of water that kept soaking her hair, and then disappearing.
Waves. The third thing that she noticed was that she was lying on sand, rocks
jabbing uncomfortably into her spine, bits of beach caked to her bare arms and
legs. The final thing she noticed was the warm, cozy body that was snuggled
next to her.

    The hell . . . Faith opened her eyes wide and was greeted by a starry night
sky, gorgeous if she had been star gazing instead of being the victim in a
game of Pickle between waves. She sat up, pain wrenching in her back as she
realized that the rocks were also in her shirt, not just on the sand which she
had been lying on. Then, blinking the sting away from her eyes, she turned
around to her side.

    Curled up in a ball was the shivering form of Giles, Buffy's dog. "Gripes,
could this get any weirder?" Faith asked, wondering if she should kick the dog
awake. Instead, she just reached over and nudged his head a little.

    Giles' eyes instantly flashed open, and with one look at Faith, bounded up.
Her earlier appearance of being dead had frightened him very much, and now he
was overjoyed that he had a friend in this strange place that he had been
dropped off in. He barked happily, and then placed his front paws on her
stomach, trying to reach up and lick her face, but Faith shoved him away.

    "Stupid dog, let me find out what kind of mess we're in here!" she
reprimanded him. She was never fond of animals, except for Xander the beagle.
Eventually, though, she had given Xander the beagle away for adoption, because
beagles weren't the ideal pets for travelling conditions. Maybe she'd get a
husky and name it after Willow or something, considering the dog was female.

    She was thinking about that as she surveyed her surroundings. She was on a
little strip of beach, very, very tiny, and surrounded by thick walls of the
kind of grass that grew around the beach. Grumbling, she began to climb the
walls, noticing that Giles was eagerly falling in step.

    "When I find out where we are," she told the dog as they climbed, "the second
thing I want to know is how the hell you got here. Then I'll ask about
myself."

    In return, Giles sneezed. Had the dog gotten sick? He didn't look wet, but
she didn't look that wet either and she had gotten a good dunk in the sea.
After she found out where they were, they should find shelter and dry
themselves off. Possibly with a towel lying around, one that some beach-going
freak had left behind.

    God, why did people go to the beach? The sand always got in everything and
anything, the sun was a killer, and the ocean was always after you. Not even
counting the man-o-wars and jelly fishes and sharks and all those other things
in the deep. Faith had never been scared of anything; she'd always been the
tough girl, never believing in monsters under her bed, never afraid of
confronting the beyond. But the ocean was another thing entirely-her one true
childhood fear that had carried itself onward into her adulthood.

    When she got over the ridge, she recognized nothing. This land, these
buildings . . . all foreign to her. She peered closer, using her enhanced
sight, and spotted a couple nuzzling each other on the other strip of beach.
As Giles nudged her in her side, she pushed his head away and climbed out of
the hole, dragging the golden retriever along with her as she made her way
towards the couple.

    When she got there, the boy was busy sticking his tongue down the girl's
thorat, and Faith had to clear her throat several times before they noticed
she was there. The girl, who was topless, quickly wrapped a beach towel around
her upper self as the boy jumped up with a flashlight and shined it on Faith's
face.

    "Who are you?" he demanded, the fright in his voice not enabling him to sound
in charge of the situation.

    "Your conscience," Faith snapped, not the best of moods. She put her hands on
her hips and passed a look between the couple. "How old is that girl, anyway?"

    "Fifte-hey, why do you want to know?" he said angrily, cutting himself off
before he revealed that he was with a minor. The flashlight was still in
Faith's eyes, and she shielded her gaze with one hand.

    "I told you: I'm your frickin' conscience. And I want to know where the hell
we are. Mind telling me?"

    The boy seemed hesitant to answer, but the girl, wanting very much to get rid
of this woman, quickly spoke up. "Sunnydale Public Beach," she said in a small
voice, embarrased at being caught mid make-out session.

    Faith's icy glare crumbled into an expression of unbelieving shock. "No way,"
Faith said immediately, shaking her head furiously. "No way is this place
still open to the public. No one's allowed anywhere near Sunnydale, or even
the surrounding towns. Jeez, do you know what risk you guys are taking, being
here on the beach and all that??" Faith was goggle-eyed.

    The couple looked at her, and then laughed. "You're crazy," said the guy,
flicking his flashlight off. "We live in Sunnydale, lady. We can definitely be
where we are."

    Faith eyes widened even more. The only things that lived in Sunnydale were,
well, *things*. And these people, *people*, were not things. They were very
much human, and very much not afraid, and very much confusing her.

    "Ok, what's going on?" Faith said. "Have I, like, been suddenly transported
to another dimension or something? Back in time? What? What year is this?"

    They continued looking at her like she was a loony. Maybe she was. "1998,
lady," said the guy, fingering his flashlight again. "And now that you know
that, can you leave?"

    1998? Huh? *What* was going on? "Uh," Faith managed, and then composed
herself. Obviously, this had to deal with that prophecy her last Watcher had
vaguely told her about. "Gimme a towel."

    "Lady, the one towel we got is on my date over there." The guy jerked the
flashlight over to his date, who was blushing and pulling the towel up higher
to conceal cleavage. "Why the hell are you swimming without a towel? And why
the hell in your clothes?"

    "Don't ask questions," Faith growled. "You'll exhaust yourself. Just give me
the towel and ask your kiddy date to cover herself with that t-shirt of hers
that is lying around *somewhere* were you guys tossed is away in the throes of
passion. And if you give me that towel, I won't report you to Sunnydale
Police." Yeah, if they were telling the truth and if there still *was* a
Sunnydale Police Department.

    "Here," the girl said quickly before her date could speak for her. She tossed
the towel at Faith and then covered herself with her arms. Faith took the
towel and started to walk away, drying her hair and mumbling thanks to the
strange couple.

    "Hey, wait!" called the girl. Faith turned around. "Where's your dog?"

    Faith's jaw dropped, and then she looked to her side and around everywhere.
Giles was no where to be seen. "Damn," she cursed, gritting her teeth. Then
she set out at a fast pace towards Sunnydale, and she would hopefully run into
that mutt along the way.


//**\\


    He couldn't get that day with Buffy out of his mind.

    It was a Christmas miracle, truly. He had planned to kill himself, planned to
totally annihilate his worthless, evil being, but the sun had not risen
because of snow. Snow in Southern California. Obviously, there was some
otherworldly intervention in this.

    So, as he did his own nightly rounds around Sunnydale, he thought about how
he had spent that day. It was wonderful; whenever he saw Buffy, it was only
for that short period of time during the night. Now, he had the opportunity to
spend the whole day with her, and they enjoyed it to the fullest. Nothing like
playing in the snow to cheer any suicidal person up.

    Now, though, they were staying apart, swearing there would not be another day
like, holding hands and being together and contemplating kisses. No, it was
dangerous to be tempted like that, to dangerous to ever fall in love again. It
was very clear as to what the consequences would be.

    Buffy . . . completed him. Made him feel human. Made him feel whole. Every
day of his undead life was plagued by thoughts of her, and he was almost
certain that Buffy was experiencing the same thing. Could they deny their
passion? Could they keep away from each other, even if they knew the
consequences? Could they not . . .

    Angel didn't finish that sentence in his mind, though very clear memories of
that night flashed through his mind. It was his most happiest moment-he
shivered with happiness just thinking about it. This was dangerous. This could
no longer continue.

    He kept *telling* himself that . . .

    Suddenly, his hyper-sensitive, preternatural hearing picked up a soft moaning
sound. Moving like a shadow between the tombstones and the grave plots, angel
quickly hurried to wear the moaning was coming from.

    There was a figure, a figure dressed in a long red nightgown, strewn across a
freshly dug plot. For a second he thought she was a vampire, and then Angel
realized that he did not sense her as one of his kind. She was very human, but
with a strange . . . scent, of sorts. At least to him.

    Since she was human, she was most likely in trouble. Angel leaned over and
brushed her red hair out of the way, exposing her neck. He was expecting bite
marks, but there was nothing. The neck was clean.

    Even stranger. Angel slid his hand under the woman's body, grabbing a firm
hold around the waist. Gently, in case she had any broken bones, he turned her
over. Her long red hair still covered her face. Angel gently brushed it away,
and the female stirred.

    Angel would have drawn his breath in sharply, if he had breath. Instead, he
mimicked the motion as he stared at the face. The recognizable face. "Willow?"

    The woman stirred once more at the mention of the name. Angel looked on in
amazement as she opened her eyes and looked up dreamily into his face.

    "Where am I?" she asked, reaching up to rub her eyes. Then she frowned and
looked up. "You're not Oz . . ." she said quizzically, yet not really grasping
what she was saying. Then she recognized the face that was staring back at
her.

    "Oh joy," Willow said, her eyes rolling up in her head once more, and she
went limp in Angel's arms.


////****\\\\ End of Part B ////****\\\\
OK, what's this about the list ending or something? Feedback is wanted, too.
~Shadows~



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: Jill Kirby <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Admin:  Note on posting stories
Date: 06 Jan 1999 21:42:17 -0600 (CST)

We'd asked people to post no more than three story parts per day, so the list didn't get overburdened.

However, with the list ending as of January 23, if you have a story to post-- post away, and just use common sense about the number of posts you send (for example, if it's a 50 part story, please break it up at least a <little> bit!).

Jill
          Jill Kirby ~~  [e-mail]
    www.geocities.com/SoHo/Lofts/4107
"Out on the edge you see all kinds of things you can't see from the
center.  Big, undreamed of things - the people on the edge see them
first. I want to stay as close to the edge as I can without going over."
             - -Kurt Vonnegut Jr.



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: [e-mail]
Subject: Re: BUFFYFIC: Admin:  IMPORTANT.  Please read.
Date: 07 Jan 1999 23:37:46 EST

Jill and Sharon, and Lisa Rose,

Thank you so much for  your hard work and dedication to this list.  You have
maintained a civil level of discourse for the entire year-plus that I have
been a member, and there's lots of lists where that's not true.  We appreciate
all that you have done for the fan community, and I am sure we wish you well
in all you do.

Mia

Member WPWP
Keeper of the Opening Wolf Howl

I *LOVE* this show!



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: Jill Kirby <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Admin:  One more note
Date: 08 Jan 1999 13:37:12 -0600 (CST)

Sharon and I have gotten a number of questions (understandably) regarding
the lists.  To reassure some people and as an FYI to others, please note
the following.

1.  The lists will no longer exist as of January 23.

2. We will not-- repeat, not-- give out our s*bscriber list to anyone.
Please don't ask us for it.  As we've said, we feel very strongly that
giving out the list would be a breach of our listmembers' privacy.

3.  As stated previously, if you have a list, or are starting a list,
please post information about it to this list before January 23.  People
may then make their own informed choices about where, if anywhere, to go
from here.  Neither Sharon, Lisa or me will be "authorizing" or
"recommending" that current Xmission Buffy listmembers go join any other
specific list(s).

Any questions, please let us know.  We want very much for this transition
to be as painless as possible for everyone, and we'll do whatever we can
to make that happen.  We have been <extremely> touched by everyone's good
wishes and good feelings about the list (both what's been posted here, and
the many notes sent via private mail) and, again, feel very proud to have
run this list for the past 2+ years.

Jill
Jill Kirby - [e-mail]
www.geocities.com/SoHo/Lofts/4107
"Hhhmm... maybe THAT'S what's missing from
my life: health-threatening sex with
household appliances."    --AC





-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: [e-mail] (Marc E Goldberg)
Subject: Re: BUFFYFIC: Admin:  IMPORTANT.  Please read.
Date: 08 Jan 1999 19:01:20 -0500

Jill, Lisa Rose, and Sharon,

As a long-time lurker, I would also like to add my thanks for what you
have done.  When all of us were wondering what had happened after
Becoming, you provided that opportunity.  When we wondered what the
characters were thinking, you were there.  When we desired two characters
to get together, there was always someone who wanted the same thing and
you let them "publish" their work.  When we wondered what's up with
Washington, CNN took your place.  Somehow, I don't see anyone crying over
that, the historical-making moments aside (g)
I would also like to thank the many wonderful writers who have
contributed and given me, and many others, many hours of fun-filled
grammar corrections (g)  They provided stories that made us (please don't
ask why I'm writing in the plural) laugh, cry, shake our heads in anger
at the characters, and wonder why Joss didn't hire them.
I would also like to thank Joss himself for providing us an entertaining
series that provided so many opportunities for us to make his work better
(g)  If you're reading this, Joss, remember...nothing thanks a fan like
doing 32 new eps a year (g)
May the future be bright, may the Hellmouth not open, may the economy
grow even stronger (hey, I'm a graduating college student--I need a
strong economy if I want a job! (g))
To our list managers, we'd proudly offer you a copy of "How Computers Can
Ruin Your Life, a.k.a. Why Books Are Gonna Make a Big Comeback," but, uh,
we can't figure out how to steal it from Giles (g)  He's got that Slayer,
you know, and we like the no-bones-broken thing (g)

Good luck!

Marc


___________________________________________________________________
You don't need to buy Internet access to use free Internet e-mail.
Get completely free e-mail from Juno at http://www.juno.com/getjuno.html
or call Juno at (800) 654-JUNO [654-5866]



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Can't Hide the Past (3c/?)
Date: 10 Jan 1999 21:13:13 EST

Title: Can't Hide the Past
Author: Anna Perez (Shadows)
E-mail: [e-mail]
Feedback: Please?
Rating: PG-13 to R
Disclaimer: Characters seen on the Idiot Box belong to Joss Whedon & the WB
Distribution: Just ask for permission
Summary: 15 years after my own season 3 finale, the characters of BtVS find
themselves thrown back together under unusual circumstances.
Note: The last episode that I have seen is "Amends". I will follow the show
from up to there, and then it's my playground.

*****

Can't Hide the Past
Chapter 3, Part C


    He wasn't sure he should go in. He wasn't sure about anything anymore.

     God had it hurt when he saw Willow with Xander, kissing each other on the
bed like that . . . his heart had broken into a million little pieces. What
was worse, though, was not being together with Willow. He missed her . . .
half of him had gone with her, the part of him that could love, leaving an
empty, cold shell behind. He needed that half, and he needed Willow. He
thought, perhaps, that having her back would fill that emptiness.

    It didn't fill it at all; all it did was show Oz how wide it was. Whenever he
looked at Willow . . . he saw not the girl that he had loved so deeply, but
the girl that he could no longer trust as deeply. He still loved that smile,
he still loved her touch, and he still loved her kisses, but to know that she
had given the same exact pleasure to Xander made him jealous. He had been
jealous before . . . but now he had reason to. And dammit, he was.

    So now he stood outside the library, hands hovering next to the thin piece of
metal that when pushed, would open the door. Open the door to the library. The
place where he and the other Slayerette's had gathered so often, chatting
about how they were going to revert the next day's apocalypse. Except now
there was an apocalypse of a different kind.

    Oh well. Tomorrow was the beginning of his days as a werewolf, and he wanted
to spend this night with Willow. Perhaps try and fill the void that stood
between them like the Grand Canyon. Try to reach out to her . . . try to reach
out to her without instinctively drawing back, afraid of being hurt like that
again.

    He didn't want to be hurt like again. Pain was not the top emotion on his
favorite's list. Heck, it wasn't even on there.

    {Sooner or later I have to go in} Oz thought to himself. {If I'm going to do
it, now is as good as any other time}.

    Slowly, he touched the door. Then, the hinges creaking, he opened the door
softly.

    Everyone turned to him with a surprised expression, as though they were
expecting someone else. "What?" Oz asked, feeling a little out of place. Then
he noticed the stranger sitting on the computer desk, staring at him with a
cocked head.

    Oz was wondering what he was staring at when the doors opened behind him.
Angel came in, carrying a woman in his arms who's face was covered in hair.
Her red nightgown was stained with dirt, and her slightly pale and willowy
frame hung limp in Angel's embrace.

    Oz was forming the word "what" again when the man sitting next to Xander rose
and strode quickly towards the vampire, scowling all the way. Angel looked
just as confused as Oz did, and was startled when the man grabbed the woman
out of his arms. Muttering curses, the strange man lay the strange woman down
on the table, clearing a bunch of books out of the way first.

    Oz moved closer to Buffy, as much to get away from Angel as to figure out
what was going on. "What's up?" he whispered in her ear.

    "What would you say if I told you that that man right there was Xander,
fifteen years into the future?" Buffy asked pointedly, taking her eyes off
from watching the man for just a second to gauge Oz's reaction.

    Oz was pretty cool about it. "Well, I'd guess I'd believe you, because
everything else has happened here in Sunnydale, and I don't think I have much
choice in the matter."

    Buffy nodded and turned back to F-Xander, who was sucking on his teeth and
cradling the woman's head, whispering something softly in her ear.

    "I-I think she was waking up when I brought her in," Angel said, for the lack
of having anything else to say that sounded remotely intelligent.

    F-Xander muttered something very vulgar under his breath and then reached up
with one hand to the side of the strange woman's neck. He grabbed a bit of
flesh and then pinched her, really, really, hard.

The woman let out a gasp and she rose with a shriek, facing her stunned
audience. Shivering either from shock or cold, she put two trembling hands
towards her face and parted her long red hair.

    The others were not completely surprised by the sight, except perhaps maybe
Oz and Angel. Since F-Xander had come back from the future, and Willow had
felt the magic, then it was completely possible that she would come back too.

    Besides, which *other* Slayerette had red hair?

    What the gang *was* shocked at was the face. F-Willow seemed not to have aged
a day beyond her seventeen years. The smooth, pale, oval face was still the
same, and despite the increase in her, ahem, chest, this pretty much looked
like young Willow, frail form and all. Pretty blue eyes blinked at the troupe,
not recognizing their surroundings.

    Then she turned around, looked at F-Xander, looked back at everybody again,
and then back to F-Xander. She uttered a moan and prepared to faint once
again.

    "Oh-oh," F-Xander muttered, catching her as she fell into his arms. "*No way*
are you fainting again. Wake up, Will, c'mon. Everything's ok. Just deep, even
breaths."

    F-Willow opened her eyes quickly and sat up woozily. "Ok? Everything's *ok*?
Xander, clue into reality here." She pointed to her younger self, and let her
finger roam around the library. "*This* is not ok. This is definitely not ok.
This is not even *close* to ok here. This is very far from ok. This is bad.
This is bad and wrong, wrong, wrong. You can't get any farther from ok than
this, even if-"

    F-Xander grabbed her shoulders and clapped one hand around her mouth. F-
Willow looked suddenly very frightened as F-Xander spoke with deadly calm that
he sometimes used in his line of work. "Willow, you know I hate to do this,
but you're babbling. Your *really* babbling, and we don't need this right now.
What we need to do is to be stop babbling and be cooperative, and find out
from them how to get back where we are." He leaned forward and looked into F-
Willow's eyes. "Do you understand, Will? Get what I'm saying?"

    F-Willow nodded, eyes wide in panic, but they were drooping to regular size.
When F-Xander removed his hand, F-Willow took one look around the library,
laid her eyes on her younger self standing next to Giles, and found just the
right spot on F-Xander's shoulder to cry.

    As F-Xander awkwardly wrapped her in a hug and patted her on the back, Oz
felt a surge of anger and jealously flow through him. *What had gone wrong?*
After everything, Willow did end up with *Xander* after all? Was the universe
up to slapping him upside the head every time the shiniest bit of happiness
was in his life. I mean, there he was when he was five, the perfect family,
when his dad decided to run off with the postwoman. Later, after moving to
Sunnydale and all that, he had hooked up with Dingoes Ate My Baby and looked
towards the bright future of getting signed . . . and then nothing. Willow
entered his life, and everything seemed like bliss . . . until she started
smooching and who-knows-what-else with Xander behind his back. Oh, yeah, and
the werewolf thing was pretty bad too, although he was dealing with it well
enough and the only thing bad was that he regularly missed Dingoes gigs. But
this certainly topped the charts.

    You couldn't tell that Oz was angry on the outside, though. His expression
remained the same, if just a bit stonier, and his clenched fists were shoved
in the pants pockets. He hoped to God he wasn't made to say anything, because
then he'd surely blow.

    Willow and Xander were surprised themselves. They looked at each other,
blushing until their faces were the color of F-Willow's dyed hair. {How did we
end up together} Willow thought to herself. {How could I have let go of Oz?}.

    Oz. Willow snuck a peek at him. He seemed perfectly fine, if not a bit tense.
{But I just know he's so not ok with this} Willow thought, her emotions so
confusing that she wanted to burst into tears like he double.

    "Um, I think this may be a bad time," Angel said, clearing his throat, "but
what's going on?" He looked imploringly at the Scooby Gang.

    "*Very* bad time, Dead Boy," F-Xander growled, shooting a glare at the
vampire while continuing to sooth a very disturbed F-Willow's hair. Angel took
a step back, obviously recognizing the nickname. The vampire mouthed "Dead
Boy" silently, and then his eyes lit up as he understood the connection.

    "Xander?" the vampire asked, wondering what the Hellmouth had done this time.

    F-Xander ignored the question and instead tipped F-Willow back so that she
had to look at him. "Do you think you're ok now?" he asked softly, wiping a
tear away with the side of one finger.

    F-Willow smiled weakly. "As ok as I can possibly get at this moment." She
slid off the table and regained balanced on her two feet. She then turned to
look at Giles, her bottom lip quivering at intervals.

    "Um, alright . . . since something has obviously happened, does anybody mind
explaining to me how this anomaly came to pass? Or has no one found out
exactly how yet?" F-Willow brought one delicate fingernail to her lips and
began to chew away her nail polish. Her eyes turned away from Giles and
flicked back to Xander.

    "Um," Giles said, unsure of how he was going to explain this over and over
again to all of tonight's "visitors." "Xander was overlooking a book that
contained a spell, and he must have intentionally cast it, because you are
here, and in all cases, it must be connected to the spell. I don't believe
that everyone's future selves would just back if they had not a push."

    "Well, it's not everyone," F-Xander pointed out. "Last time I counted, it was
Past: 4 and Future: 2. Our side's missing some players." F-Xander glanced at
F-Willow, and she nodded enthusiastically. Then F-Xander turned back to the
group.

    Oz couldn't stand this. They both were being so . . . affectionate. He
wondered if he was red, or green, or some other color that your skin was not
suppose to be when you didn't feel like killing somebody because they'd stolen
the girl of your dreams-twice. Why was he still standing here?

    Buffy blinked. "Um, uh, do you have any ideas as to how we could get you guys
back . . ." Buffy, making the matching motions with her hands. She raised her
eyebrows, not even wanting to look at the three very tense, very awkward-
feeling people around her.

    "An idea . . ." F-Willow closed her eyes and sighed loudly and sharply. "I
suppose I could divine something, only I wish Oz was here with me. Ever since
we had our handfasting our ability to wield magick has worked so much better
together."

    "Oz?" Willow asked, the voice coming out as a high-pitched sound. She covered
her mouth self-consciously, but she then drew it quickly away. "Oz?" she
asked, everyone understanding it now.

    "Oz, yes, handfasting, husband . . ." F-Willow trailed off, and her eyes
flittered to the three people. "Oh, no way." She turned to look at F-Xander
and for a moment something silent passed between them. Then they both started
to laugh.

    "You didn't think . . . us?" F-Xander asked as F-Willow giggled cupped her
hand over her mouth. "No way, we would never . . ." Then he stopped mid-
sentence and mentally backed up. He grabbed the back rung of a chair and
leaned a bit heavily on it. He remembered what year it was, what month it was.

    "What's wrong, Xander?" F-Xander turned to look at her, and then she got it.
"Oh . . . *oh*." She stopped laughing. "Sorry for laughing," she whispered
softly. Then she slumped down into the seat that Xander was still attached to.

    Willow shot a glance towards Oz, and he gave her a weak smile. Willow took
that as a sign that he was able to stand her now, and she slowly inched next
to him.

    "Ok, let me look at the spell that, um, uh," F-Willow looked up at F-Xander,
"Xander did, and I'll see if I can undo it and send us back-"

    She was interrupted by the sudden sound of raucous barking coming from
outside. The whole group turned, puzzled, towards the sound.

    "The hell is that?" F-Xander asked.

    He was soon answered as the double doors burst open and a dirty, wet,
seaweed-covered dog came bounding into the library. The dim lighting shone off
it's golden, shaggy coat, and it skidded to a stop right in the center of the
decorative floor-tile pattern, letting out another sharp bark. Then, tongue
lolling out of its mouth, it turned to where Angel was still standing. It's
matted fur bristled up, and it's mouth pulled up in a snarl, showing it's
long, white, sharp teeth.

    Angel backed considerably to the doors. He was getting no answers as to what
was going on, the people in the room weren't exactly his best buddies, and the
dog was ready to rip his preternatural being apart. Time to go.

    Yeah, time to go if the woman had not burst into the room, tripping over her
tow and falling head first into the floor. Despite the fall, she rolled
herself into a tight ball and hit the floor on her back, somersaulting next to
the dog. Then, grunting, she pulled herself up again and grabbed the dog by
the nap of it's neck, lifting the large animal off the floor.

    "Damn dog," she growled, and then realized where she was. She dropped the dog
to the floor, and then started to edge near where F-Xander and F-Willow were,
her large, expressive black eyes rolling around.

    "Faith?" F-Willow asked, her hands curling up to her neck, cradling herself.

    F-Faith turned to look at her, and nodded. "What on the Hellmouth is going on
here?" Faith asked, jerking her head towards Buffy & Crew.

    "We're trying to figure that out right now," F-Xander answered. Then he
grinned, sizing her wet, ragged-looking self. "Talk about all washed up," he
added, not able to resist.

    He ducked as a stake-turned-missile came flying at his head. "Not in the
mood, Harris," F-Faith growled, giving him a glare that made vampires cower.
F-Xander gulped and just grinned lopsidedly.

    F-Faith, content at shutting up Xander, put her hands on her hips and turned
to look at everyone. "Ok, so . . ." Her voice trailed off as she noticed that
the dog was still growling. "Shut up, Giles," she told the dog, kicking it in
the side. D-Giles didn't even notice, staring straight at Angel. F-Faith
turned to see what he was looking at.

    The next thing Angel knew, he was pinned against the wall, F-Faith with a
good grip on his neck and a stake held high in her right hand. "Goodbye,
Angelus," she told him sweetly, bringing her arm back and then swinging it
towards his heart. Angel squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the End to come.



////****\\\\ End of Chapter 3 ////****\\\\
The rest of this story will be posted to the BBETA list.
~Shadows~



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "J. Jericho Born" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Flies to Honey" sequel to "The Necromancer" (13/17)
Date: 10 Jan 1999 20:38:28 -0800

TITLE: "Flies to Honey" (Part 01/17) I know I said sixteen parts before, but
there was a last minute modification.
AUTHOR: J. Jericho Born
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK: Please let me know what you think of my fanfic with some feedback.
DISTRIBUTION: The author reserves rights on this story. Please do not
distribute without expressed permission.
RATING: PG  Contains violence.
SPOILERS: Spoilers to previous fanfic. If you would like to read the preceding
story you can download it at < http://www.sirius.com/~traction/buffy >.
DESCRIPTION: The sequel to "The Necromancer".
DISCLAIMER: The writer of this unauthorized fan fiction is not affiliated with
any of the parties involved in the making of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The
characters are the property of Joss Whedon and whomever else the lawyers may
deem fit, they are used without permission. Technically that is not legal, but
I'm not anticipating any law suits. This work, the plot line, and the
characters introduced that are not already featured on Buffy the Vampire
Slayer are the work of Joshua Jericho Born, Copyright 1998.





==============

Scene 12

"What is it?" Xander called out, running to catch up with Buffy and the
others.

"This place isn't as abandoned as we thought," observed Giles, looking through
the opening in the fake wall intelligently.

Xander joined the onlookers to see a startling contrast to the warehouse they
had seen previously. Several large, space-age looking chemical vats were the
prominent feature of the orderly, modern factory that hid inside the rotting
building. They spanned floor to celing and were accessed by a sturdy catwalk
that ran consistently around the spacious area. A host of high-tech machinery
intertwined amoung the vats in a methodical chaos. No sound could readily be
attributed to the extensive plant that sprawled within, instead an eerie
silence maintained the intergrity of a secret operation. The sterile odor of
the place lended to the feeling of careful maintenence.

"It seems to be a biochemical factory," declared Giles.

"Duh, but what is it doing in the middle of dumpsville?" questioned Cordelia.

"I say we find out," suggested Buffy.

"What about looking for Oz?" reminded Xander.

"For all we know he's in there," responded Buffy, more to Willow than to
Xander. The former gave an approving nod and Buffy entered the factory
stealthily. Xander was fresh on her heels and the others followed with
matching dilligence.

A lighting system made up of clean, flourescent units illuminated the
manicured interior walls and cast multiple shadows on each of the intruders.
The group, led by a competent as usual Buffy, made their way around the
perimeter of the room. Ducking from cover to cover, they stopped at a useful
vantage point and snuggled in between a large pipe and the wall.

"Duck," advised Buffy simply. An unusally fit security guard walked by with a
face that alluded to his mind being elsewhere. A handgun firmly fastend to his
belt cast his dopey demeanor in a threatening shadow.

"Did you notice that?" whispered Buffy in the wake of the passing guard.

"His uniform didn't have any identifying markings on it," replied Giles under
his breath.

"This place is giving me the wiggins, I'm getting out of here," advised
Cordelia as she began to stand.

"No!" barked Buffy as loudly as softly could get.

"Why not?" whined Cordelia.

"You'll give us away."

"How are you so sure?"

"Cordy, you're a lot of things, but discrete ain't one of them," informed
Xander affectionately.

"Hey, look over there," interrupted Willow. Cordelia resigned herself to
popular opinion and reassumed her crouch.

Willow gestured to a group of large cages that were piled against the wall a
few paces away in an orderly manner. They looked quite secure, solid steel on
the sides and heavy gauge grating on their fronts. Excitement brimmed in
Willow's petite frame as speculations of reuiniting with Oz ran through her
head. The contents of the cages couldn't be perceived from her current vantage
point, but for the first time in awhile she felt optimistic. Willow's
incantation to locate her boyfriend showed no signs of his presence, but she
had long since disregarded its validity.

"Wait here," said Buffy protectively, but she couldn't even start to get up
before a friend's hand met her shoulder.

"I want to see for myself," said Willow assuredly, abandoning her enchanted
bowl to the cold, concrete floor.

Buffy didn't see it fit to disagree and together they crept to the steel
cages, Willow in anticipation and Buffy in a reserved caution. They would have
to step out from behind the machinery that provided relative cover in order to
achieve their objective. The Slayer was wary of being discovered, but there
was no stopping Willow.

A crawling pace quickend into a minature jog as Willow came upon the nearest
cage and peered inside. Buffy assumed position next to her friend and also
gazed in. At first glance the twisted creature inside could've been mistaken
for a werewolf, but any sustained look would reveal this abomination to be a
hideous mutation of an ordinary dog.

The expression of this poor creature's tormented face was both threatening and
pitiful. A mouthful of its elongated teeth poked in and out of gums in various
directions and its coat only existed in isolated patches. Various bones that
could be likend to spikes protruded from the mangy animal's hide, giving it
the appearance of being subject to callous experiments rather than mere
neglect. A permanent expression of fright had fused itself around the animals
maw, which was colored blood red from licking its own wounds.

Disappointment chilled its way down Willow's spine and she roughly shrugged
off Buffy's comforting arm. She could only stare at the floor as Buffy looked
over the rest of the cages and discovered they held a menagerie of equally
deformed common animals. Buffy shook her head at the others, still huddled
behind their cover, and they received the bad news with appropiate silence.

"Don't move!" commanded an overly aggresive voice, coming from behind Buffy
and Willow. The Slayer beligerently turned to face a particularly edgy
security guard leveling his cocked gun at location in Buffy's torso. Remaining
calm, she quickly put a ditsy look on her young face. Willow noticed Buffy's
expression and also turned with a look of mischievious innocence.

"They're just some teenagers," the guard called out, maintaining his eyeful
watch on the pair of intruders.

"Whoa, don't shoot. We thought this place was abandoned," said Buffy in her
best stoner voice. She began to compliment herself mentally for her quick
cover story, but she soon realized her statement was true and lacked any ounce
of deception.

"You girls are in big trouble," advised the guard, his tense neck stretched a
collar saturated with persperation. He looked more worried about Buffy and
Willow's fate then they did.

"Hey, Bubba," yelled a now standing Xander. The guard sent only a moment's
glipse Xander's way, but it was enough time for Buffy to disarm him with a
precise, well timed kick.

The Slayer wasn't about to settle with a single kick and quickly followed with
several more meaty blows. The guard met a backhand to the face, a kick to the
stomach, and a punch squarely on the jaw with no counter. Staggering to keep
balance, he returned a bewildered look to Buffy.

"Not expecting moves from some teenager girl?" questioned Buffy with a smug
smirk. The guard answered with his own set of precision attacks, the first
blow hitting its mark on Buffy's abdomen before she could block the ones that
followed. Surprised, Buffy did realize that such martial arts training was
standard for security guards, but she was beginning to believe these weren't
ordinary security guards at all.

"Make a run for it!" exclaimed Buffy, losing faith in her abilities to get out
of the situation with a quick fight. Not wanting to abandon their friend, all
of the gang remained when Buffy glanced over next during a short lull in the
security guard's skilled assault.

"I said go!" reiterated Buffy. The others finally complied, hearing the
mounting gravity in Buffy's voice.

The fight looked to turn against Buffy and she finally disregarded the safety
of her human opponent in favor of self preservation. As the security guard
lunged a right cross at her, she countered gracefully and sent him into a
brutal collision with the side of some steel machinery. After a short moment
for pain to be realized the guard fell to the floor unconcious. Without
sparing any time, Buffy started on her own timely escape.

"Halt!" ordered another guard with the click of a cocking hammer, this time
from the catwalk above.

"You imbescile! Don't use firearms in here! Do you want to get us all killed?"
interrupted a man dressed in a plain, black business suit and tie. Also on the
catwalk, he walked a few steps toward the security guard and brushed away the
readied gun.

"Go get Freeman!" barked the business suited man. The security guard obeyed
without question, holstering his weapon and scurrying off to complete his
assigned task.

"You don't know what you've stumbled into, little girl," advised the
mysterious man.

"Why don't you enlighten me then?" requested Buffy, postponing her egress for
the moment against her own better judgement.

"This is much bigger than your little MTV wasted brain can comprehend, young
lady, it doesn't matter anyway, you won't make it out of here alive, or
perhaps we can recruit you into our little fold, your fighting skills are
quite impressive," said the suited man, running his sentences into each other
like a tragic train wreck.

"Behold, the entire lack of puncuation," quipped Buffy.

"I doubt you will live to enjoy your insult, indeed, I think the rebellious
nature of your youth wouldn't bode well in our operation, it's a pity to
strike down such a lovely specimen of the female half of humanity in her
prime, but we cannot afford luxuries such as mercy," the man answered. After
finally puncuating his speech with a pause he added, "Kill her."

Buffy had no time for a witty comeback, in quick response to the malicious
order an ominus whirring noise of an electrical circuit warming up hummed from
a short distance away. Instinctively, the Slayer hit the ground to dodge
whatever was coming away. A odd swirling, blue light playfully danced above
her head, hitting the metal apparatus next to her with no adverse affect.
Regardless of the weapon's appearance of impotence, Buffy rolled away until
the row of cages impeaded her progress.

Just as Buffy got to her feet, a man clad in a peculiar orange jumpsuit and
wearing a backpack that fed into an odd weapon he carried turned a corner to
face his prey. A pair of nerdy glasses that seemed to come straight out of a
NASA Apollo documentry added to his humorous appearance.

"What are you, a reject from the Ghostbusters?" questioned Buffy, shortly
before diving behind cover as the weapon hummed to life once more. She again
suceeded in avoiding a blue stream that this time hit the poor, mutated dog,
putting it out of its misery in a cataclysmic puff of organic mass.

With the idea of disintegration floating around her mind, the Slayer opted for
a different strategy. When the orange-suited man rounded the corner this time
he met a sharp jab to the face and struggled with a focused adolescent to
maintain hold of his futuristic weapon. Buffy pulled with all her enhanced
might, gripping the cylinder shaped device with both hands.

"Let go!" demanded Buffy's adversary, but she continued grappling for control
of the weapon. Eventually, the Slayer's strength proved too much to handle and
it slipped out from his hands, ripping the various cords that connected it to
the backpack unit.

Amid cries of "Freeman, you idiot!" and with the odd device in hand, Buffy
pursued her plans of escape with renewed vigor. She ran to the makeshift
entrance briskly, sparing not a single iota of energy as she went. Whatever
evils lurked in this place would have to be dealt with after regrouping.

==============



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "J. Jericho Born" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Flies to Honey" sequel to "The Necromancer" (14/17)
Date: 10 Jan 1999 20:39:43 -0800

TITLE: "Flies to Honey" (Part 01/17)
AUTHOR: J. Jericho Born
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK: Please let me know what you think of my fanfic with some feedback.
DISTRIBUTION: The author reserves rights on this story. Please do not
distribute without expressed permission.
RATING: PG  Contains violence.
SPOILERS: Spoilers to previous fanfic. If you would like to read the preceding
story you can download it at < http://www.sirius.com/~traction/buffy >.
DESCRIPTION: The sequel to "The Necromancer".
DISCLAIMER: The writer of this unauthorized fan fiction is not affiliated with
any of the parties involved in the making of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The
characters are the property of Joss Whedon and whomever else the lawyers may
deem fit, they are used without permission. Technically that is not legal, but
I'm not anticipating any law suits. This work, the plot line, and the
characters introduced that are not already featured on Buffy the Vampire
Slayer are the work of Joshua Jericho Born, Copyright 1998.




==============

Scene 13

Giles hung the phone up after a disappointingly uninformative conversation. He
and the adolescents in his charge had gone back to the motel and, after barely
noticing a warm gretting from Eddie, settled in one of their rooms to chew
over their course of action.

"My friend at the County Recorder's office said the property belongs to a
'Armstrong Holdings, Inc.' He couldn't tell me much about the company and they
didn't own any other property in the area. It would hardly help us to find out
about them anyway, it's probably just a shell for a larger company," informed
Giles. He returned to the circle of curiousity that had formed around the
peculiar weapon that was the bounty from their adventure. Willow remained
partially removed from the group, sitting on the side of a bed in the corner
of the room.

"We seem to have crossed the line from Fantasy-Horror to Science Fiction,"
wryly commented Xander, looking over the large cylinder absently.

"Just like Xander's love life," sniped Cordelia to little acknowledgement.

"What do we do now?" asked Buffy.

"Well, seeing as how this appears to involve neither the occult or the
supernatural perhaps we should notify the authorities and be rid of the
matter," answered Giles to Buffy's surprise.

"I'm with Giles. I mean, this isn't our department, this is like Mr. Spock
material right here," agreed Xander, poking the cold exterior of the object.

"It's settled then. I'll return to the tele," concluded Giles, removing his
glasses in anticipation of several long, tedious phone calls.

The do-gooder within her aside, Buffy was glad to not have to deal with the
matter. She turned her attentions to Willow and approached as gently as
possible, sitting next to her friend warmly, but not intrusively.

"What'cha thinking about, Will?" inquired Buffy softly.

After a moment's hesitation, Willow replied, "I'm not really thinking about
anything, just wallowing."

"We've tried one lead, we're not going to just give up looking for Oz now."

"I know, perseverence and all that," said Willow mutely.

"It almost feels like it's not just Oz that's gone. I'm missing the Willow I
used to know. You've repressed yourself into this hole where the only time you
speak to another human being it's to offer to cast yet another spell,"
diagnoised Buffy with deeply seated concern.

"It's just that ever since that night when we got kidnapped I've felt so
helpless. Magic gives me a way to feel like I'm actually doing something, like
I'm not just watching events unfold." Willow didn't look directly at Buffy as
she spoke.

"It's ok to miss Oz, Will, but it's also okay to not feel like finding him is
your solitary life mission. You're allowed to think about other things every
now and again and you're not the only one on the planet who's missing him.
We're all in this together and we won't rest until he's back," Buffy said with
a warm tone.

"I know I don't have to feel bad all the time, it's just that I want to feel
bad all the time. I don't want things to not suck until he's back," remarked
Willow, emotion manifesting in a restrained sour face.

"You're allowed to feel anyway you want about this, Will. I just can't stand
by and let this destroy you. Take some time out from thinking about Oz to
think about Willow once awhile. You can't shoulder this all yourself,"
commented Buffy, deliberately looking directly at Willow's eyes. Willow didn't
reply and sat as still as she could, twinges of expression breaking onto her
face intermittenly.

"How about if you at least let me think about Willow every now and again?"
requested Buffy tenderly. Finally, the bottleneck Willow had put on her
feelings broke, letting a gush of emotion pour out. With a choked weeping, she
placed her head on Buffy's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry about blaming you before, I was just-"

"Don't worry about that now, it's okay," said Buffy softly, putting her arms
around her friend in a comforting hug.

Xander and Cordelia had looked on in silence up until now. After a glance at
Cordelia, Xander decided it was a safe enough time to butt in and approached
his distraught friend with hands in pockets. A supportive Cordelia followed
his lead maturely.

"Buffy's right, Will, we're all in this together," proclaimed Xander in mellow
sincerity.

Giles finished his phone calls, but decided to wait before returning the group
to matters at hand. After a few sensitive moments Giles walked up to the
others timidly.

"The local police were quite rude and unfavorable, but I aquired the phone
number for the state and federal authorities. I'll call them in the morning,"
he announced softly.

==============



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: Slayer <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Announcing a new Buffy FanFic list (BUFFYFIC2)
Date: 10 Jan 1999 20:23:21 -0800

>3.  As stated previously, if you have a list, or are starting a list,
>please post information about it to this list before January 23.

I've set up a new list on OneList called buffyfic2. It's rules were
closely based on the ones for this list. It was created as an easy
option for continuing the fine flow of FanFic this list has provided.
One thing it won't have though, is the TLC that has been provided by
Jill, Sharon, and Lisa Rose.

All are invited to join...

go to http://www.onelist.com/subscribe.cgi/buffyfic2

or send an email to: [e-mail]

NOTE: The list probably won't show up in the OneList directory until
Monday, but the above will work.

Mark


Mark - [e-mail] -or- [e-mail] -or- [e-mail]




-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "J. Jericho Born" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Flies to Honey" sequel to "The Necromancer" (15/17)
Date: 11 Jan 1999 21:18:37 -0800

TITLE: "Flies to Honey" (Part 15/17)
AUTHOR: J. Jericho Born
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK: Please let me know what you think of my fanfic with some feedback.
DISTRIBUTION: The author reserves rights on this story. Please do not
distribute without expressed permission.
RATING: PG  Contains violence.
SPOILERS: Spoilers to previous fanfic. If you would like to read the preceding
story you can download it at < http://www.sirius.com/~traction/buffy >.
DESCRIPTION: The sequel to "The Necromancer".
DISCLAIMER: The writer of this unauthorized fan fiction is not affiliated with
any of the parties involved in the making of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The
characters are the property of Joss Whedon and whomever else the lawyers may
deem fit, they are used without permission. Technically that is not legal, but
I'm not anticipating any law suits. This work, the plot line, and the
characters introduced that are not already featured on Buffy the Vampire
Slayer are the work of Joshua Jericho Born, Copyright 1998.


==============

Scene 14

"Did you hear that?" asked Willow, awakening in the darkness of an early
morning. After waiting for a reply that was never received, she strained a
glance over to the adjoining motel room bed. Cordelia lay there oblivious
beneath a silk, black blindfold trimmed with lace. The headphones of a walkman
droned out its looped tape of sounds marketed for their ability to bring out
one's inner beauty into her ears. Willow shifted her widend pupils to the
sleeping bag spread out on the floor in search of a slumbering Slayer. Instead
she found the sleeping bag unoccupied and not a single Slayer to be found.

Willow began to worry, but had little time to exercise her concern. With a
loud crash two figures plummeted to a clumsy fall, bringing Cordelia out of
her catatonic state. The embattled silhouette clad in plain night attire
Willow recognized as the vampire slaying adolescent she had looked for
earlier. The other wore an unusual orange outfit and seemed to be getting the
short end of the fight. Both of the bedside lamps that the motel had
hospitably furnished came to life as Willow and Cordelia sat upright in their
beds and groped to switch on illumination.

Light found the orange clad intruder pinned beneath an angry Buffy, who's grip
on his neck suggested he had better cooperate if he held his larnyx in high
regard. The demeanor of surprise that the man had featured moments earlier
disappeared in favor of a look of resignation.

"I suppose you'd like to know what I'm doing here," Freeman struggled to say
through Buffy's death grip. Just then a concerned pair of male slayerettes
stumbled through the unlocked door.

"Actually, Egon, I thought I'd beat you to a pulp then you could make with
explaining," replied Buffy, catching her breath.

"Please, I'd like to talk," implored Freeman, ignoring the crack about his
nerdy appearance.

"Let's hear the man, shall we?" agreed Giles as he closed a few paces with his
Slayer. Freeman looked relieved at Giles' comment as if he was about to get a
load of his chest that he had been bearing for much too long.

"Could you let go a bit? I have an odd fallibility: I like breathing,"
requested Freeman. Relunctantly, Buffy complied after exchanging looks with
her Watcher.

Leaning back against the dingy motel wall, Freeman explained, "I was supposed
to reaquire the weapon you took from me last night."

"Looks like you didn't factor me into your plan," commented Buffy smugly.

"Hardly," retorted Freeman, pushing his glasses back with an index finger to
their center in a cliche of dorkiness, "I could've easily retrieved it
undetected if I had wished by engaging my hazard suit's stealth mode."

"What are you, Bill Gates' guido?" questioned Xander from safely behind
Buffy's shoulder.

"I am a scientist," refuted Freeman, "At least I was. I worked for an arms
technology corporation that had a contract with the Department of Defense. I
was assigned to their main research installation when one of the top secret
experiments had. . . unforseen side-effects. The base was overrun by a variety
of horrible. . . creatures, attacking the science staff and security detail
mercicessly. The powers that be decided it would be best to maintain the
integrity of their operations and erradicate the creatures. . . as well as the
surviving scientists."

"Next thing you'll be trying to give us that Roswell crap," sniped an
impatient Buffy.

"I'm telling you the truth," insisted Freeman, "I was fortunate to survive
both the clean-up squads and the marauding creatures to destroy the source of
the incident. Aparently, it impressed someone enough for them to spare my life
and offer me employ in their covert operations. Since it was accept or face
certain death I've been living under the thumb of No-Puncuation-Man ever
since."

"No-Puncuation-Man?" asked Giles while Buffy nodded empathically, recalling
her encounter with the individual in question.

"I don't actually know his name," explained Freeman, "I figured by your
resourcefulness and fighting skills that you weren't simply a group of
troublesome teenagers and could possibly aid me."

"Even assuming we believe your story, do you really think we can help you?"
Giles inquired.

"Perhaps," answered Freeman, "At the least you could help me throw a cog into
my employer's machinery."

"That we shall do. I will inform the authorities as to the illicit operation
in the morning," Giles.

"You don't understand! The Weberton factory is just one of many. After the
Black Mesa incident it was decided it would be wiser if all eggs were not
placed in one basket. Regardless, you'll be reporting its existence to the
very government that will stop at nothing to cover it up," chastised Freeman.

"What does the factory do exactly?" inquired Giles.

"In layman's terms, it researches the ability to exploit common animals as
killing machines through various forms of mutation. We had thought one such
product had escaped and mauled a young boy, but the creature we captured turn
out not to be one of ours," replied Freeman.

"Was this creature a little taller than me, covered in fur, and sporting some
nasty fangs?" questioned Xander with peaked interest.

"I believe so, why?" answered Freeman. The assembled adolescents traded
cautiously expectant glares, anticipating a plan to finally locate Oz.

==============



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "J. Jericho Born" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Flies to Honey" sequel to "The Necromancer" (16/17)
Date: 11 Jan 1999 21:19:37 -0800

TITLE: "Flies to Honey" (Part 16/17)
AUTHOR: J. Jericho Born
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK: Please let me know what you think of my fanfic with some feedback.
DISTRIBUTION: The author reserves rights on this story. Please do not
distribute without expressed permission.
RATING: PG  Contains violence.
SPOILERS: Spoilers to previous fanfic. If you would like to read the preceding
story you can download it at < http://www.sirius.com/~traction/buffy >.
DESCRIPTION: The sequel to "The Necromancer".
DISCLAIMER: The writer of this unauthorized fan fiction is not affiliated with
any of the parties involved in the making of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The
characters are the property of Joss Whedon and whomever else the lawyers may
deem fit, they are used without permission. Technically that is not legal, but
I'm not anticipating any law suits. This work, the plot line, and the
characters introduced that are not already featured on Buffy the Vampire
Slayer are the work of Joshua Jericho Born, Copyright 1998.


==============

Scene 15

"I'm still not sure about this," worried Freeman, sitting uncomfortably in
Oz's van as it chugged along in anticipation of arriving at the warehouse.

"You said he agreed to exchange Oz for you, right?" asked Xander, wrapping a
rope around Freeman casually.

"Yes, but he's not the most trustworthy of individ-" Freeman cut short his
reply. Annoyed, he questioned, "What are you doing?"

"If we supposedly kidnapped you, you should look restrained," reasoned Xander
as he contemplated a knot.

"I could break out of this ridiculousness in seconds," argued Freeman.

"I didn't say you should be restrained, I said you should look restrained. Pay
attention, bucko," Xander replied with a dose of sarcasim.

"As I was saying this will most certainly be a trap," Freeman advised.

"Yeah, well, I seem to have a knack for escaping traps," informed Buffy.

"What is it you do exactly?" inquired Freeman.

"Oh, I'm a vampire slayer," answered Buffy casually.

"And this friend of your's that you are trying to rescue is a werewolf?"
questioned Freeman.

"Yup," replied Buffy.

"And I thought I had stories," Freeman commented to himself.

"There's the warehouse," announced Giles, parking the VW wagon as he had grown
accustomed to doing.

"Wish us luck," requested Buffy as she hopped out of the van with Freeman at
arm's reach.

"Buff-" began Willow.

"We agreed you're staying, remember?" interrupted Buffy.

After some thought Willow conceded and wished a simple, "Good luck."

"Ready?" inquired Giles, the chains draped over his shoulder clashing with his
tweed jacket.

Buffy nodded a yes and grabbed Freeman by a bicep, dragging him along as
roughly as she could. An odd aesthetic was cast as the trio's contrasting
appearances met the run down neighborhood's street. They entered the warehouse
formidably, concious of the potential threat that this place held.

Passing the outer door, Buffy was surprised to see the place gutted with no
trace of a complex high tech operation left. In its place was a rotting shell
of a building that looked as if it had been untouched in the past few decades,
complete with requisite layers of dust and mold. The vast expanse that made of
the inside of the building was broken up by No-Puncuation-Man standing sharply
at the end opposite Buffy and company. A disoriented, seemingly drugged
werewolf was crouched at his left, toying with several space-age looking
objects that kept his interest engaged.

"Aaaah, Freeman, I see you didn't achieve your objective as easily as you had
promised, my faith in your abilities to handle such situations has just been
diminished, you needn't worry about the state of your employ, however, you
still have a place in the organization, it's just a slightly less trusted
one," called out the No-Puncuation-Man.

"You can debrief your crony later, let's make the trade," yelled back Buffy,
forsaking any questions as to the fate of the secret factory.

"Of course, I believe it's traditional for your captured party to walk toward
me as my captured party walks toward you simultaneously, that is how it's done
in the movies after all, you know, you needn't bother with those silly chains,
our restraints make them look rather juvenile, speaking of which, I should
unlock them for you," babbled No-Puncuation-Man. He reached over and tapped
out a sequence on a futuristic keypad that a clamp around one of Oz's wrists
bore.

"You only need to push the red button to release him now, you are capable of
that I assume, of course, I would not advise doing so after the sedative wears
off, that is, unless you don't value your own good health, shall we proceed?"
rambled No-Puncuation-Man.

Buffy released her grip around Freeman's arm and he walked forward warily. A
few paces into the journey No-Puncuation-Man gave Oz a shove, sending him
dopily forward in compliance. Tension mounted as Buffy surveyed her
surroundings for any hint of a double cross. Giles nervously went over the
chains he bore with his hands while Oz and Freeman passed each other roughly
halfway without sparing a glance. The latter resisted the urge to turn and run
away from his entrapped life, knowing any such effort would be in vain.

Oz came within only a few steps of his destination, as did his counterpart at
the other side of the warehouse. Buffy and Giles exchanged equal expressions
of anxiety while No-Puncuation-Man gave a stern-faced Freeman a machinatious
smile.

Finally, both walks were finished within seconds of each other. Buffy grabbed
at one of Oz's restraints authoratatively, causing a mellow growl to be
attempted, but abandoned as sleepliness ran its course. Freeman took his place
by his unwanted boss' side, turning to face the same direction as his master.

No-Puncuation-Man's smile widend to ridiculous levels, causing Buffy ran her
eyes over the scene to see what caused her enemy to have such a happy. To her
horror she now realized she was surrounded by an uncountable amount of
gun-toting masked men. Buffy didn't have time to reason their impossible
entrance and looked eagerly for an escape, but found none.

"I'm very sorry to have to say this, well actually I'm not really sorry at
all, either way it doesn't matter. Kill them!" commanded No-Puncuation-Man.
The small army of thugs leveled their weapons at a terrified Buffy and Giles
as well as at an unwitting, dazed werewolf. Buffy swallowed and bit her
tongue, ready to met whatever fate would befall her.

"Stop or he gets it!" yelled a valiant Freeman as the peculiar weapon he held
to No-Puncuation-Man's head hummed to life.

"You just forfeited your own life, Freeman!" growled his victim in terror.

Freeman's previous threat did little to deter the firing squad who were still
intent on following their order. Realizing this, he tried a new approach.

"Ok, stop it or you all get it!" barked Freeman, aiming his weapon this time
toward Buffy and Giles' aggressors. In a resounding clanking sound all dropped
their firearms to the ground, fearful of the destructive capabilities of
Freeman's humorous-looking weapon.

"Make a run for it, I'll make sure no one follows," nobly insisted Freeman.
Buffy spared an expression of sincere thanks before trotting off behind Giles,
dragging an awkward werewolf behind her like a domestic pet. They would waste
no time in making their getaway.

==============



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "J. Jericho Born" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Flies to Honey" sequel to "The Necromancer" (17/17)
Date: 11 Jan 1999 21:22:05 -0800

TITLE: "Flies to Honey" (Part 17/17)
AUTHOR: J. Jericho Born
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK: Please let me know what you think of my fanfic with some feedback.
DISTRIBUTION: The author reserves rights on this story. Please do not
distribute without expressed permission.
RATING: PG  Contains violence.
SPOILERS: Spoilers to previous fanfic. If you would like to read the preceding
story you can download it at < http://www.sirius.com/~traction/buffy >.
DESCRIPTION: The sequel to "The Necromancer".
DISCLAIMER: The writer of this unauthorized fan fiction is not affiliated with
any of the parties involved in the making of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The
characters are the property of Joss Whedon and whomever else the lawyers may
deem fit, they are used without permission. Technically that is not legal, but
I'm not anticipating any law suits. This work, the plot line, and the
characters introduced that are not already featured on Buffy the Vampire
Slayer are the work of Joshua Jericho Born, Copyright 1998.

I'd like to take this opportunity to give a big thanks to the moderators of
this list. I hate to see it go, but I understand. Wish you well on everything
that's keeping you busy.

-JB


==============

Scene 16

A tired scene was cast within the VW wagon that plugged its way home that
morning. The atmosphere during the car ride home took the silence of its
predecessor to an emotional extreme. No one dared speak, for the owner of the
vehicle they traveled in was chained down and whining in the back.

Willow looked over the werewolfian Oz with mixed emotions brewing deep in her
gut. In the haste of their departure from the warehouse they didn't have a
chance to have a proper reunion, judging by the nature of the ferocious
creature that shared her ride it would be some time before there would be such
a reunion.

Browsing through the magical regeants in her backpack, Willow contemplated
restoring Oz to the human state she had grown to love. A feeling of
helplessness overcame her as she realized she lacked the one property that a
restoration procedure required: hellfire. To her knowledge the only qualified
wielder of hellflame in his world was a bigger vegetable then the carrot she
had eaten the night before. Fortunate, since he would be predisposed to using
that hellflame for manical plans of world domination rather than coming to the
aid of a lonely adolescent.

Buffy had left with her friends on this trip with the hope of retrieving Oz.
They did achieve their objective, but not without great peril and many an
unanswered question. On top of that, the idea of reverting Oz back to human
was daunting task. Gazing out the window, Buffy had a hard time discerning if
they were traveling forward or backward.

Observing a "Welcome to Sunnydale" sign blur by, Buffy felt an uncertain
thought spring to life. This endeavor had left her feeling small, pouring both
time and effort blindly into a sludge that eventually gave her what she
wanted. She began to wonder how well she could function outside of the
backwater town known as Sunnydale to most, the Hellmouth to those enlighted in
the archaic. This was her senior year and the prospect of going off to college
hung like a banner above her mind. Reflecting, Buffy thought over her past
with a contemplative mind.

Before coming to Sunnydale, Buffy had felt lost and suffered through bouts of
lonliness and depression. Even before she found out she was the Slayer the
only life she led was a hollow, pretentious one. When she had run away she
assumed the life of a pitifully empty soul. In contrast the turmoil of her
family and the constant danger of her life's calling seemed to reach an uneasy
peace above the Hellmouth. Strange considering there seemed to be a new threat
to world safety every week, but as each new problem arose she faced it with a
peculiar upbeat attitude.

In a minor epiphany, realization came to Buffy. What brought the chaos to a
feeling of order? It wasn't the mystic forces of the Hellmouth, the challenge
of the Master and his minions, or even the loving arms of her star crossed
lover, Angel. What kept life on its rails was the friendship and camraderie
she shared who those she held dear. The prospect of meeting another threat to
humanity was transformed from a hellish tramatizing experience to a youthful
adventure by the reliable expectation of Buffy's friends gathered together and
joking in the library as Giles held back smirks at juvenile quips. The Slayer
could expect to look back at this period in her life with nostalgia instead of
repressing its horrors under a blanket of self doubt like preceding Slayers.

Therefore, this trip had more signifigance that just reuniting Willow with Oz.
Buffy had endured another tempest with her friends and melted together in ways
that those with more stable lives could never do. Who else could say they were
there for one of their friends during their adolescence in such profound ways?
It was a small comfort, but one that directed her thoughts in more lucidity
then she had been able to achieve in a long while. As long as Buffy had those
close to her to support her, times may not always be cheerful, but they would
be resolute.

The importance of friendship in Buffy's life gave her a new perspective on
finding Oz. Her friendships are what kept her going from day to day; she
needed to risk life and limb for her embattled friends not just for their
sake, but for her own. Buffy shifted her idle stare from the van window to
Willow, who didn't notice her friend's affectionate eyes. She couldn't put her
thoughts into words just then, but she took comfort in knowing there would be
many an opportunity to share words to come.

"Why are we stopping here?" blurted Cordelia, snapping Buffy out of her
daydream. Tired eyes peered out, taking in the scenery of a quiet graveyard.

"I thought it'd be appropiate to check on the crypt we secured Abel in before
we returned to our homes," explained Giles.

"Good idea! Nothing like dancing on fallen enemies' graves for a pick me up,"
commented Xander as he briskly pulled open the van's side door. Giles gave him
a slightly contemptable look as he climbed out of the driver's seat, his
motives more pragmatic than Xander's.

"Willow, you can stay in the van," suggested Buffy, turning to her friend
before following the others.

"No, I want to. It'll be comforting to see him safely tucked away all
unconcious and unable to do any harm," said Willow genuinely, trying to push
the presence of a werewolf to the back of her mind.

That being said, the two walked along a graveyard path side by side,
anticipating their destination mildly. Buffy flashed a smile Willow's way as
they walked and Willow returned a smaller one diplomatically. Stopping dead in
her tracks, Buffy first looked over the gloomy faces of her friends then at
the mausoleum's open gate, ripped apart like tin foil.

"Did a vampire get to him?" questioned Buffy grimly, running the scenario
through her head.

"No," replied Giles, emerging from the interior of the crypt, "It has been
broken from the inside out."

"So that means-" began a trembling Willow.

"Abel's up and about," finished Buffy.

==============

THE END - Obviously a sequel is in the works. Interested? Send e-mail to
[e-mail].



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: sah <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: ADMIN:  List rules
Date: 12 Jan 1999 13:44:29 -0500

Welcome!  This list is for fiction related to "Buffy The Vampire
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[e-mail]





-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: sah <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: ADMIN:  How to (un)s*bscribe
Date: 12 Jan 1999 13:44:32 -0500

Please SAVE this message-- it contains information on how to uns*bscribe
from the list.

TO UNS*BSCRIBE FROM ANY BUFFY LIST

send a message to [e-mail]

In the body of the message put

uns*bscribe buffy

(or buffy-digest, or buffyfic, or buffyfic-digest)







-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "Andrea Newbery" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Best Intentions, (1/18)
Date: 12 Jan 1999 17:44:48 PST

Title: Best Intentions
Author: Andrea
e-mail: [e-mail]
disclaimer: These characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant
Enemy, the WB, etc. They are not mine.
spoilers: Everything up to the end of season two.
distribution: Sure, just let me know.
summary: Xander/Cordelia. This fic is set in the same timeline as
ChristineÆs amazing story, æThe Wildest Times in the WorldÆ although
technically this story takes place before that one. If you havenÆt read
it, e-mail me and IÆll send it to you although you can read this story
even if you havenÆt read hers.
Thanks to Christine, for writing the story that started this, and for
helping me when I got stuck and for thinking up the title. And thereÆs
still more I could thank you for. :)


Cordelia Chase's apartment
May 28, 2005


Cordelia stared blankly at the door her husband had just slammed behind
him, one lone tear marring the perfection of her face. Leaning back in
her chair she sighed deeply, her eyes closing as she reached up and
pushed her thick hair back from her forehead.  She opened her eyes
slowly, taking in the emptiness of her home, the quiet that surrounded
her. Closing her eyes again she let her mind drift back to happier days.

A half-smile flitted across her face as  she remembered the danger she
had faced in every one of those days she now recalled as happy times.
Those days, those years, were all that sustained her now, in the hollow
perfection of her life. She felt the familiar ache in her stomach as she
remembered the only true friends she had ever known and the only true
love she had ever felt. The things she had traded for the life her
parents wanted for her; the life she had grown up knowing would be hers.
She had been so close to having everything. To having love and friends
and happiness, until one moment of weakness and mistrust had shattered
it all. Wrapping her arms tightly around herself she decided to finally
face the memory. To look at the past from a much different vantagepoint
then she had first seen it, starting with the prom, five years ago
tonight. The night she considered the happiest of her life.

*******
Prom night
May 28, 1999

"Are you guys ready yet?" Willow's voice was plaintive as she stuck her
head in Cordelia's large bathroom, where both Buffy and Cordelia were
putting the finishing touches on their make-up. "The guys will be here
soon."

"I'm not even sure why I'm doing this. I don't want to go to the prom."
Buffy muttered as she struggled to place one errant strand of hair. "And
with Larry? He's such a pervert. I'm going to spend the whole night
fighting him off."

"Xander swears that won't be a problem. He said Larry will be a perfect
gentleman and to just trust him." Cordelia spoke into the mirror as she
finished putting on her lipstick. Turning to look at the other two girls
she shrugged her shoulders. "Xander said Larry wasn't exactly who we
thought he was, whatever that means."

"Well, it's only for tonight Buffy, you don't have to see him again
after this." Willow spoke comfortingly, her face sympathetic. "If you
would date then maybe you could find someone you like to be with."

Buffy ignored her as she walked over to her kitbag and fished through
it. Finding what she was looking for she smiled down at the large silver
cross resting in her hand for a moment before placing it around her
neck. The other two girls stared at her silently, waiting for her
explanation. Buffy looked up at them, her face both defiant and sad.
"Giles won't be at the dance." Her shoulders slumped slightly, before
she straightened them and stood up. "I just need more time, Angel's a
pretty hard act to follow. Just...just let me have this, okay?"

The two girls continued staring at Buffy, then nodded. Cordelia spoke
first, her voice deliberately cheerful. "It really sets off the neckline
of your dress, and the color. You look beautiful Buffy."

Buffy looked down at her dress, a shadow of the pain she still felt
passing over her face. Turning to the full-length mirror Buffy smiled
into it, taking in the image of the three girls standing there. Holding
her hands out to both of them she let out a sigh. "Thanks. We're total
hotties. The guys will be babbling idiots."

Cordelia let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding as she
took Buffy's hand. Looking into the mirror at Buffy and Willow she felt
a fresh burst of amazement that these two people were her friends. And
real friends, not like Harmony and the others who had practically dumped
her when she first started dating Xander. Her stomach clenched at the
thought of him, her heart speeding up a little.  She still couldn't
quite believe how deeply she felt for Xander and how lucky she was that
they had made it this far. She remembered their first kiss in Buffy's
basement and her horror at the passion he aroused in her. Who would have
thought they would still be hiding out in closets two years later?

"Earth to Cordelia, come in Cordelia." Buffy's laughing voice broke
through her memories.

"What? Oh, what?" Cordelia blushed slightly as she realized that someone
was ringing the doorbell. "Well, are we ready girls?"

"We are." Buffy and Willow spoke in unison as the three girls quickly
headed downstairs to answer the door.


************
May 28, 2005

Cordelia opened her eyes with a start as a loud pounding on her door
interrupted her reverie. Quickly jumping up from her chair she walked
over and looked through the peephole. Seeing her husband swaying in the
hallway she swallowed her sudden rise of fear. Pulling the door open she
put on her best fake smile as he pushed past her, heading to the
bathroom. She stood helplessly outside, listening to the sound of her
perfect husband's retching. Pushing away the disgust that rose in her
throat she knocked on the door asking him if he wanted any help; the
timid note in her voice disgusting her almost as much as the man that
was on the other side. At his harsh rebuff she turned and walked away,
hoping that, for tonight at least, he was home to stay.

Wandering into her private dressing room her eyes restlessly searched
the room. She stared sadly at the make-up piled on the table, the
closets filled to capacity with all the latest fashions, the jewelry
that should be in a safe. Tears began to fall slowly down her face as
she tried to choke them back. Slipping down to the floor she lay curled
up in a ball, wondering how it had all come to this.
********


______________________________________________________
Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "Andrea Newbery" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Best Intentions, (2/18)
Date: 12 Jan 1999 17:50:12 PST

Title: Best Intentions
Author: Andrea
e-mail: [e-mail]
disclaimer: These characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant
Enemy, the WB, etc. They are not mine.
spoilers: Everything up to the end of season two.
distribution: Sure, just let me know.
rating: Not sure. I'll say PG-13 for now.
summary: Xander/Cordelia. This fic is set in the same timeline as
ChristineÆs amazing story, æThe Wildest Times in the WorldÆ although
technically this story takes place before that one. If you havenÆt read
it, e-mail me and IÆll send it to you although you can read this story
even if you havenÆt read hers.
Feedback: Please. Good, bad, anything.
Thanks to Christine, for writing the story that started this, and for
helping me when I got stuck and for thinking up the title. Wow, and
thereÆs still more I could thank you for. :)


Sunnydale High School Prom
May 28, 1999

"Cordy...wow. I mean wow." Xander repeated himself for the fiftieth time
since he had first seen her at the door. Slipping his arm over her
shoulder he pulled her closer to him and for a short moment Cordelia
could swear that everyone else disappeared. Laying her head on his
shoulder as he kissed her forehead she had no doubts that she had made
the right choice when she had given up everything to be with him.
Smiling to herself she realized that she had gotten so much more than
Xander in return. She had real friends, who, although they had a shaky
start, actually liked her for her.  She stole a glance at Willow who was
gazing adoringly at Oz, and then her eyes were dragged, almost
unwillingly to Buffy. It was still hard sometimes to forget how much
Xander had once loved the beautiful Slayer, hard for her to believe him
when he said that he was no longer in love with her. Cordelia stared at
her friend, noticing the tightness in Buffy's jawline, the slight
darkness under her eyes that no amount of make-up could hide. Mostly she
noticed the pain that hid just under the surface of every expression on
Buffy's face.  Looking away from Buffy, she lifted her head to kiss
Xander's neck, thankful that no one would ever ask her to give him up.
She still marveled at Buffy's strength, to send Angel away for Giles.
She closed her eyes, offering up a silent prayer that Buffy would find
someone who could help her through the pain the Slayer was still
struggling with.

"Well Cordelia, you seem very cozy with your freak friends."

"Harmony. You look....cheap." Xander tossed back, without moving his arm
from around Cordelia.

"Excuse me, but I was talking to Cordelia." Harmony spoke coldly; her
eyes fastened on Cordelia's face.

"What do you want?" Cordelia's voice was guarded. She had taught Harmony
every trick of belittling she had ever known, and Harmony was very good
at practicing on her former mentor.

"I just wanted to suggest...to spare you the embarrassment...that maybe
you should take your name out of the running for prom queen." Harmony
had the grace to look slightly uncomfortable while speaking, but behind
her discomfort Cordelia could also see her enjoyment at causing pain.

Relieved, Cordelia smiled broadly at her, thankful once again for the
escape she had made from being exactly like Harmony. "I'll take my
chances."  Turning her face away from Harmony she began talking with
Willow and Buffy, dismissing Harmony. Her once friend had stood there
for a moment, and Cordelia could feel the anger radiating from her.
Cordelia let a small bit of satisfaction run through her, what good was
having all the skills of a bitch if you never used them. Harmony should
have remembered who taught her to be the bitch she was now.  A tiny
light shone in her eyes for a moment as Harmony stalked away, her head
flung high into the air.

"Why do you want to be prom queen anyway Cordelia?" Willow's voice held
no judgment, only curiosity as she leaned against Oz.

Cordelia looked at her, surprised at the question, and even more
surprised that she couldn't think of an answer. She had just dreamed of
being prom queen for so long that she had never stopped to think of why
she had wanted it in the first place. Leaning closer to Xander, a
puzzled expression on her face, she thought back to the first time she
had ever heard of the prom queen. She had been six years old and looking
through photo albums with her mother. They had come to a picture,
obviously formally done, of her mother and father at their prom, the
crowns shining on their heads. They had looked so wonderful to Cordelia
and she had pestered her mother about the crowns until her mother had
spun the whole night into a wonderful fairy tale for her. Her mother had
told her it was one of the happiest nights of her life, dancing with the
man she would later marry. Cordelia had dreamt of it ever since, knowing
that on the night of the prom she would be crowned queen and her future
husband would rule beside her. She grinned, feeling silly over her
fantasy now, but unable to stop wanting to stand on the stage with
Xander by her side. Almost as if she could be crowned with him, then
they would be protected from the danger of their life, and get to be
together forever.

Noticing that Willow was still waiting patiently for an answer, and that
the rest of the table had become silent, Cordelia chuckled softly before
speaking. " I don't. Not like you think. I mean..." Cordelia broke off,
staring at the people who had become so important to her. Gripping
Xander's hand tightly she continued speaking. "I mean, after I fell for
the geek here." Cordelia grinned at Xander, removing any sting from her
words. "Nothing that was important to me before means much anymore."

At Buffy's mocking grin Cordelia flushed then smiled knowingly. "Well, I
do still think important to look your best.  And I'll never be able to
say that I adore Xander's taste in clothes, but he's got other assets
that more than make up for his horrible fashion choices."

"I protest your unfairness. Look at me, I'm perfect." Xander said, his
hands running over his tuxedo.

Cordelia took a moment to look at him, enjoying how good he looked. "For
tonight, I'll have to agree. But to get back to Willow's question. I'm
still in the running cause it makes Harmony mad."

Xander grinned as he kissed her forehead. "That's my girlfriend, mean,
mean, mean."

"I don't know." Buffy spoke thoughtfully; her sad eyes fastened on
Cordelia. "She's got way more heart than I ever dreamed of."

Cordelia smiled quickly at Buffy before ducking her head so that the
Slayer wouldn't see the tears in her eyes. Of course Buffy wouldn't
believe the easy answer, she had seen too much in her short life to ever
take anything at face value. Cordelia looked up into Buffy's eyes again;
knowing the other girl wouldn't push for the truth. The look in Buffy's
eyes still made her stomach feel hollow. The pain Buffy couldn't erase
even when she was trying with everything she had to seem happy.

Cordelia wondered if she would ever look at Buffy again without being
reminded of the night a soaking wet Buffy had shown up outside the
window of her car after she had said her good-byes to Angel. The sobbing
wreck who had sat shaking in the back of her car as Cordelia had driven
Xander home before he let any of his venom towards Angel show. Then she
had quickly called Willow, stopping to pick the Hacker up before taking
Buffy to her house. They had let Buffy talk all night, letting her mourn
for the man she loved. The man she had given up for her Watcher. The
three of them had bonded that night while sharing the Slayer's pain and
saying farewell to the vampire who had been their friend. It was that
night that Cordelia had finally accepted that she would never again be
able to be the shallow person she once was.

Shaking her head Cordelia pulled herself from her thoughts, Buffy was
going to be okay, and Willow had received an e-mail from Angel telling
her that he was doing fine.  They would both do fine, she told herself,
shuddering at the thought of losing Xander.

She jumped when everyone at the table started clapping wildly. Xander
was pulling her to his feet, a huge grin on his face. She looked at him,
her expression perplexed, as he pulled her to him and kissed her.
Pulling away she looked around the room, her eyes stopping when they
connected with Buffy's. The Slayer grinned at her, looking almost truly
happy. "You won Cordy. Chalk one up for the freaks of the world."

Shocked into silence, Cordelia had let Xander pull her to the stage,
barely noticing Harmony seething as she walked by.  She didn't say a
word as the crown was placed on her head, and Xander made a goofy speech
that made everyone laugh. Then he led her to the dance floor and for
once in his life Xander Harris passed over his patented Xander dance in
favor of a slow waltz, holding her tightly to his chest. Cordelia leaned
against him, surprised at the relief she felt. Things would be okay; she
felt that now with a certainty that had always evaded her in the past.
She danced the night away, wrapped in Xander's arms, so sure that things
were exactly as they were meant to be.
*************
May 28, 2005

Cordelia drifted off to sleep, her arms wrapped around herself as
memories of dancing in Xander's arms soothed her.

She woke abruptly a few hours later, the hardwood floor cold against her
cheek. She pulled herself to a sitting position, leaning back against
the wall as she tried to figure out how the certainty of that night had
faded. How she had let the love of her life go, no, how she had pushed
the love of her life away.

Standing up she walked through the connecting door leading into her
bedroom. She walked in quietly, not surprised to find it empty. She
would have been shocked if her husband was even sure which room she
slept in.  Trying to remember the last time her husband had touched her
at all, she slowly lay down on her bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Letting her mind drift back again, to the night of the prom.
************
Room 115
May 28, 1999

"Are you sure?" Xander said, staring intently at the floor as they sat,
not touching on the edge of the bed.

"Totally. You?" Cordelia could hear the slight quiver in her voice as
she answered him.

"I've been sure since...well...for a long time." Xander broke off, his
eyes wandering around the room. "It's not exactly the Sunnydale Inn."

Cordelia checked out the room, a slight smile on her face. "A Motel Six
seems perfect somehow. I mean, it is you Xander."

"You wound me with your words." Xander spoke mockingly, as he fell
backwards onto the bed; his hands holding an imaginary hole in his
chest.

Cordelia shook her head in amused tolerance before laying down beside
him, her stomach wrapped in knots. "This is nice." Cordelia whispered as
she snuggled closer to Xander.  They curled up together, neither willing
to make the first move.

"Nice? I'm freezing here." Xander spoke against her neck sending chills
down Cordelia'a spine. A soft laugh escaping her she pulled the blanket
from the bottom of the bed up and pulled it and his arms tighter around
her.

"But we are alone." Cordelia whispered, her lips trembling.

Xander nuzzled his chin into her neck for a moment before mumbling his
agreement. Then slowly he began kissing her neck and tickling her with
the stubble on his face. With a helpless giggle Cordelia fell back into
him, turning over in her struggle to escape. Suddenly Xander was leaning
over her, his face contorted into a caricature of himself, "Mee Luv, how
can a poor simple farm boy argue weeth such a wise and sopheesticated
lady such as yourself?"

Cordelia looked up into the dark eyes of her boyfriend and felt herself
drowning, "You shouldn't." Her voice was breathless, the longing in her
stomach that seemed to grow every time she was with him stealing her
ability to breathe.

 Xander took in her flushed cheeks and clouded eyes, and with a
proprietary grin he leaned in and claimed her mouth. Pulling back
slightly Xander stared down at her, his eyes filled with more than
desire. "I love you."

Cordelia stared back at him, her heart pounding in anticipation. "I love
you." Her hand reached up to caress his face, amazed that she could feel
this way.

Xander kissed her then, the passion in it taking her breath away.  His
hands slowly pulling the straps of her dress down. Cordelia shivered as
his fingers brushed her chest, a slight gasp escaping her lips. She
slipped away from him and moving to stand in front of him, she unzipped
her dress and let it fall to the floor. She grinned at him, feeling
self-conscious, until he smiled slowly at her, his hands reaching out to
trace a line from her neck down to her waist before pulling her to him.
His lips traced the path his hand had taken, light kisses covering her
body.

She had woken early the next morning feeling more content than she had
ever been.  A smile lit her face as she looked up at the man whose arms
held her. He looked so peaceful, his breathe slow and even. She snuggled
closer, enjoying the feel of his skin against hers.  A wicked grin
formed on her face as she considered the best way to wake him.
*********


______________________________________________________
Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "Andrea Newbery" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Best Intentions, (3/18)
Date: 12 Jan 1999 17:51:41 PST

Title: Best Intentions
Author: Andrea
e-mail: [e-mail]
disclaimer: These characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant
Enemy, the WB, etc. They are not mine.
spoilers: Everything up to the end of season two.
distribution: Sure, just let me know.
rating: PG-13
summary: Xander/Cordelia. This fic is set in the same timeline as
ChristineÆs amazing story, æThe Wildest Times in the WorldÆ although
technically this story takes place before that one. If you havenÆt read
it, e-mail me and IÆll send it to you although you can read this story
even if you havenÆt read hers.
Feedback: Please. Good, bad, anything.
Thanks to Christine, for writing the story that started this, and for
helping me when I got stuck and for thinking up the title. Wow, and
thereÆs still more I could thank you for. :)



May 28, 2005

Cordelia stuffed her fist in her mouth, trying to stifle the sobs that
wanted to escape. She was the one who had done this, had chosen the safe
life over the one she wanted. That night had been everything to her, all
the love in the world was hers and she had let it go. She hadn't fought,
hadn't cried, she had just stepped back into her shell and let love pass
her by.

She was grateful for that night though, she always would be. Every time
her husband ignored her, or came home drunk, even the times that he
brought home one of his girlfriends she remembered that she had once
been loved by a man who would have given her anything. She had once
spent a night in heaven and nothing could take that from her.

Once again she thought of Buffy, and how she had held herself together
when Angel had lost his soul, and later when she had lost him again.
Cordelia had never understood how the Slayer had gone on, how she had
ever laughed again. It was only when she lost Xander that she understood
the power Angel's love had given Buffy. It was the same power that
Xander had given her that night. No matter how much Xander hated her
now, he had loved her then with everything and that gave her something
to hold onto.

She wished she could talk to Buffy now, tell her how stupid she had been
to give Xander up. Cordelia laughed at her thoughts, Buffy couldn't fix
anything for her, none of them could. They had believed her when she
told them her choice. They had believed that she wanted to be the
Cordelia they had hated again. Willow, Buffy, Oz and Xander, they had
all believed her so easily. It had torn her heart out that they hadn't
thought better of her after all the time they had spent together, but it
had made the parting easier, the anger covering the hurt.  She had lived
on the anger for a long time. It had carried her through her last years
of college and through all the preparations for her wedding. It had
carried her up the aisle and it had placed her hand in the hand of her
husband-to-be. It had made the words come from her mouth and helped her
hand sign the certificate. It had traveled with her on her honeymoon,
and moved into her new penthouse apartment. It had helped her open the
letter Willow had sent her, and then it was gone, leaving her alone in a
nightmare she had made for herself.

A nightmare that she hadn't woken from yet, and probably never would. It
was only when she read Willow's words that she had realized how wrong
she had been about everything. Looking back over the events now, she
couldn't forgive herself for the mistakes she had made, even if she had
thought she was doing the unselfish thing for once in her life.
**********
Sunnydale Cemetery
July 15,  2000

Cordelia slammed on the brakes, coming quickly to a stop just outside
the Sunnydale Cemetery. She couldn't wait to tell Xander the good news,
and she knew this was the most likely place to find him since he liked
to help Buffy with her first patrol of the evening. Grinning to herself
she wondered just how much help Xander was, although she had to admit he
had definitely gotten in much better shape than he was in high school.
Pushing away the thoughts that threatened to cloud her mind she grabbed
a crucifix and her spray bottle of Holy water from her glove
compartment. "Never hurts to be prepared in this town." She muttered to
herself as she straightened her skirt before entering the graveyard.

She thought happily of her news as she wandered through the graveyard.
Xander would be so happy that she wasn't going to be so far away next
year. Her first year at design school had been really hard on them, and
she had the phone bills to prove it. Plus, she could be here to help do
research and stuff when Buffy had a really bad guy to fight. Thank God
for the internet she thought, unable even now to believe that she could
complete her education online with only three visits to the college
during the year. Twirling the crucifix around in her fingers she stopped
when she heard the sound of sobbing. Following the noise she came upon
Buffy crying in Xander's arms. Cordelia stopped, wondering what had
happened, if someone had been hurt. But she had just been with Willow,
Oz, Giles and Joyce and she couldn't think of anyone else whose death
would cause Buffy such pain. Unless Angel... Cordelia let out a soft
gasp, as she stood frozen to the spot, unable to move towards the
clasped pair.

"I can't do this anymore Xander." Buffy's voice carried clearly across
the graveyard, the pain in her voice chilling Cordelia. She moved to go
to the pair, but was stopped by Xander's voice.

"You can Buffy." Xander spoke confidently, his shoulders taunt.

"I miss him so much. If only I knew where he was, if I could see him..."
The  Slayer's voice trailed off as she stood looking miserably at
Xander. Cordelia let out a breath, relieved that Angel still existed.

"You don't need him. You have us, Willow, Oz, Giles, Cordy and me Buffy.
You have me."  Xander's  voice was panicked. "You have me Buffy."

Cordelia watched horrified as Xander took Buffy into his arms and held
her. She couldn't move as Buffy moved her lips to cover Xander's.  She
said nothing as Xander kissed her back, just silently watched as her
life slipped away from her, doing nothing at all to stop it.

Xander broke the kiss, pulling away from the Slayer to look into her
eyes. Cordelia moved backwards slowly, not wanting to see the scene in
front of her, but not knowing how to look away. Xander's mouth opened to
speak and Cordelia turned and ran. She could handle everything she saw,
she could know that Xander kissed Buffy, but if she heard him say the
words of love that he had said to her only the night before she wouldn't
be able to live through the pain of it.

Cordelia walked away from the graveyard; her stomach churning so badly
she thought she would be sick. Tears streamed down her face as the
betrayal sunk in. Her love and her friend in each other's arms. She had
trusted them, would have died for them. She walked quickly, her pain
hardening into blind rage. She had given up the life she had wanted for
Xander. She had risked her life countless times to help Buffy. She had
cried with her over the loss of Angel, had supported her as the Slayer
learned to live without him. She had given Xander her heart and her soul
and her body. She had trusted him, loved him in a way she never thought
was possible.

She sunk to the pavement, sobbing wildly as all the dreams she had for
the future evaporated. Cordelia thought back to the beginning of her
relationship with Xander, when she knew Xander had wanted more from the
Slayer than she was willing to give him. Cordelia shook her head, it had
been years since Xander had felt anything more than friendship for
Buffy. She had been sure of it. How could she have been so wrong?

Wiping her face Cordelia stood and walked towards her car, wanting to
fix her make-up before she confronted her former boyfriend and his
friend. She would not give them the satisfaction of seeing the pain she
felt. She would find them and tell them what she thought of their
friendship and their love and then she would leave this town and never
look back.

She sat on the hood of her car, waiting for them to exit the cemetery;
every hair in place and her face clear of all signs of pain. Breathing
deeply she planned elaborate revenge fantasies that she knew she would
never carry out, but they gave her the strength to keep from sobbing.
Only a few more minutes, she told herself, a few more minutes and then
you can cry.

She felt Xander coming before she saw him, her heart leaping before
settling painfully back. The Slayer walked out of the cemetery with her
head low, her face ravaged by the crying fit she had suffered earlier.
Cordelia slid off her car, wanting to be standing when the pair reached
her. She looked up into Xander's eyes and saw the love she always seen
there. Turning to Buffy she saw the shame in the Slayer's eyes and the
new guilt that lived there. She sighed softly, knowing that she couldn't
add to Buffy's burden. Her life was filled with enough guilt already.
Cordelia watched them walk towards her, one so tall and dark and the
other so little and fair, their steps in perfect sync. They look
wonderful together she realized, as her heart shattered.

She understood what she had to do as they walked towards her. Knowing
with a strange certainty that puzzled her that she would give up Xander
for Buffy, step away without a fight. Her heart raged against the
thought of letting Xander go and with him her happy life. But when she
looked at the Slayer who carried the weight of the world on her
shoulders she couldn't bring herself to hurt her any more. Xander had
loved Buffy since he had met her, and with Cordelia gone he could love
her without feeling any guilt. Feeling something shut down inside her
she silently bid him good-bye.

Pasting a brittle smile on her face she spoke in a tone she hadn't used
for years, cringing at the sound of her own voice. "Buffy. You're
looking a little...ragged. You should really try waterproof make-up, it
really does stay on better." Ignoring the voice in her head that
screamed at her to stop, she watched as Buffy's eyes hardened, losing
some of the guilt that had been there.

"Cordy." Xander said, his expression a mixture of confusion and anger.
"Buffy's had a really hard night."

"And what about me? I've been waiting for you for over fifteen minutes."
Cordelia said, unable to believe how easy it was to slip into old
habits. Looking at Xander she realized how much she had depended on him
to give her the strength to be herself.  Swallowing the lump in her
throat she continued. "Can we go now? This place creeps me out. I don't
know why you can't hunt in a nicer spot."

Xander stared at her, the confusion on his face changing to hurt. "Can
we give Buffy a drive home first?"

Cordelia turned to Buffy, her lips curled in distaste. "But I just had
the car vacuumed." Cordelia stopped, the pain on Buffy's face preventing
her from saying anything else. "I suppose so."

The occupants of the car were silent on the drive to Buffy's house.
Cordelia kept checking in the rearview mirror, feeling horrible about
the words she had said to Buffy. Reminding herself that she was giving
everything up so that the Slayer could have Xander, her eyes hardened.
Buffy could handle a little pain, it was the guilt she couldn't take any
more of. And Cordelia knew better than any of them how easy it was to
dismiss her when she acted like a bitch. Let them all think that she had
reverted. Lost her soul like Angel.

She pulled to a stop in front of Buffy's house, barely glancing at Buffy
as the Slayer thanked her for the drive, her voice hurt. Hurt, Cordelia
thought to herself, she's hurt and I'm the one who saw her kissing my
boyfriend tonight. Aloud she only muttered something about getting her
car cleaned as she squealed away.

Xander said nothing as she drove towards his house;  just glanced at her
every few seconds, looking puzzled. When she stopped in front of his
house he turned to her. "Are you okay? Did something happen tonight?"
His voice was concerned as he slipped his arm around her.

Tell me Xander, please, she thought as she relaxed into his embrace for
a split second. "Nothing's wrong. Why? Did something happen with you?"

"No." Xander spoke quickly, his arm tightening around her.

Cordelia ducked her head into his shoulder for a moment, wishing with
everything she was that he would have told her. Fighting back the tears
she lifted her face to his and kissed him. Putting every ounce of
feeling she ever had for him into her kiss. He kissed her back just as
deeply and she melted into his embrace.

Finally pulling away he whispered for her to come in. She shook her
head, then loosing herself in the thought of a life spent without him
she slipped out of the car and followed him into the house. He undressed
her silently, seeming to understand that there was no time for words.
They fell into each other's arms, and joined together one more time.
Cordelia felt tears slipping down her cheeks as Xander fell into a
satisfied sleep, his arms wrapped tightly around her. She lay there as
the night passed, memorizing every line on his face, every curve of his
body. Finally as the dawn broke she moved from his embrace and walked
away.

She drove for hours that morning, planning her gift to Buffy. She
realized that she would have to be more than rude to Buffy, she would
have to act like the girl that they had all hated. Her heart broke a
little bit more as she finally understood that she would have to give
all of them up, not just Xander and Buffy. She straightened her
shoulders and hardened her resolve as she turned the car and headed to
the library to begin carrying out her plan.

She had walked in on Willow, studying with Giles, the weight of training
to be a Watcher still weighing heavily on the redhead's shoulders. It
hadn't taken much to shatter the friendships she had worked so hard to
build. A few veiled comments and some outright insults; all delivered
with a smile on her face. It got easier as she went on, the fact that no
one questioned her new behavior adding to the pain she already felt.
They seemed to pull away from her so quickly, not asking if anything was
wrong or trying to talk to her. They just shut her out as if she had
never been one of them. Conversations stopped when she came into a room,
dirty looks followed her as she walked away.

Two weeks was all it took. Two weeks to destroy every bond she had made
with them. The pain she felt wrapped itself tighter around her every
minute, choking all emotions except the anger that held her together.
She said good-bye to Xander on a Saturday night. A quick peck on the
cheek and she was gone. She never told him that she wasn't coming back
and he never asked.

She drove away from Sunnydale barely able to see through her tears, but
by the time she reached Boston her tears were gone. Replaced by the
anger that would sustain her through the next few years.
********


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-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "Andrea Newbery" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Best Intentions (4/18)
Date: 12 Jan 1999 17:53:19 PST

Title: Best Intentions
Author: Andrea
e-mail: [e-mail]
disclaimer: These characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant
Enemy, the WB, etc. They are not mine.
spoilers: Everything up to the end of season two.
distribution: Sure, just let me know.
rating: PG-13, there is some swearing in this part.
summary: Xander/Cordelia. This fic is set in the same timeline as
ChristineÆs amazing story, æThe Wildest Times in the WorldÆ although
technically this story takes place before that one. If you havenÆt read
it, e-mail me and IÆll send it to you although you can read this story
even if you havenÆt read hers.
Feedback: Please. Good, bad, anything.
Thanks to Christine, for writing the story that started this, and for
helping me when I got stuck and for thinking up the title. Wow, and
thereÆs still more I could thank you for. :)



May 28, 2005

Cordelia wiped the tears from her face, the pain of losing them still
fresh after all this time. And the pain of losing them was nothing
compared to the pain she still felt without Xander.

She stood and walked over to her desk. Sitting down she opened a locked
drawer and pulled out Willow's letter, holding the tear-stained page in
her hand. Smoothing it open on the desk she began to read.

Cordelia,

I saw your wedding announcement in today's paper and I felt I had to
write. I once thought of you as a friend, and in memory of that I want
to wish you all of the best.

No, scratch that. I don't want to wish you anything good at all. You
almost destroyed Xander when you left, when you changed. He loved you so
much and you threw it away. I hope someday you regret what you did, but
I guess with no emotions it's hard to feel.

How could you do that to Xander, Cordelia? I would have bet my life on
the fact that you loved him. We all would have. He's going to be fine
though, finally. His first book will be out on the shelves next month.
Yes, that's right, the loser you were so embarrassed to be with is a
success. He'll be rich and famous and everything you ever wanted. Too
bad you didn't wait, you could have had everything without destroying
him.

I want to tell you of a night, soon after he heard of your engagement.
He walked into a pack of feeding vampires armed with only one stake. He
went to die because of you. Because he thought he wasn't worth anything.
Buffy saved him at the last minute. A vampire was biting him when she
arrived. He begged her to let him go, that without you nothing seemed
important, certainly not his life.

I hope you know what you gave up Cordelia, and I hope you live with it
for a long, long time.

Willow

Cordelia folded the letter again, carefully sliding it back into its
hiding place, remembering the horror she had felt after reading it the
first time. Cursing herself again for ever believing that Xander would
live happily ever after with Buffy once she was gone.

She stood shakily and walked over to the shelf that held all of Alex
Harris's books.  Pulling the very first one off the shelf, she opened it
to the dedication and traced her fingers over the words.

Dedicated to the girl who gave up everything for me. I hope you got it
all back.

Cordelia broke into loud choking sobs, pleading for understanding in an
empty room. "I didn't want it. I didn't want any of it. All I wanted was
you." Falling to her knees she cradled the book in her arms, holding the
only piece of Xander she had left.

Cordelia lay on the floor for hours after she had stopped crying, just
lying with her eyes closed and her mind empty. There was nothing left
for her in this life, she had lost everything that meant anything to her
and it hadn't done anyone any good. Buffy was still alone, and unhappy.
All she had done was to cause them more pain. She just wanted to sleep
forever, to forget everything about that time and the hope she had then.

"On the floor is where you belong my darling wife." The voice coming
from the doorway was filled with contempt.

Cordelia stiffened, realizing that she hadn't even heard him open the
door. Rolling up into a sitting position she looked at her husband, his
insult not even registering in her mind. She stared at the still
handsome face that only showed slight signs of the life he lived, the
drinking and partying. And all the women she reminded herself. The women
he never even bothered to lie about or try to hide. He stared back at
her, his eyes not angry for once, just sad.

Pulling herself to her feet she quickly put on her robe and a cheery
smile on her face. "Doug. Do you want me to make you some breakfast?"
Walking quickly towards the door she tried to slip past him.

"Do you hate me?" His voice was low, as he leaned against the doorframe
and blocked her escape.

Cordelia stopped, surprised at his question. "What? No, of course not.
You're my husband."

He smiled then, an evil smile that ran down her spine. "Then why do you
cry for him every night?"

She swallowed, not knowing the right answer to tell him. She just
continued staring at him, trying to keep her expression blank.

"Do you want him Cordelia? Want him to touch the ice queen's body? Did
you move for him honey? Or did you just lie there like you always did
for me? Cordelia Chase is too good to enjoy fucking? And Chase, you were
too good to even take my name. Would you have taken his? Would he have
let you? Or was he smart enough to insist on sampling the goods before
signing on?"

He looked at her with such hatred that Cordelia wanted to close her eyes
to hide from it. Instead she hid behind the wall that had protected her
before. "Maybe if you hadn't slept with my maid of honor on the wedding
day I might enjoy being touched by you more."

"She certainly liked it. She did have quite a glow during the ceremony."
He laughed at the memory, before his face hardened once again. "I could
make you like it."

"No." The word flew from her mouth and she couldn't stop it. But there
was no way his hands were going to touch her ever again. She would spend
the rest of her life in this apartment as his wife, but if he touched
her with his filthy hands she would die. "Never again. You have your
whores and your booze. Live with that."

"And what if I want my wife?" He moved closer to her, his hand reaching
out to touch her face.

She backed up into the room, looking around for an escape. "Then you
find a new wife."

"But you'll never leave me Cordelia. You think this is your punishment
don't you? I'm your purgatory for a mistake you made with him." His hand
grabbed the book from her hand before she could stop him. Opening it to
the dedication he read it aloud. "To the girl who gave up everything for
me. I hope you got it all back. Well, he certainly sounds like a sap.
Maybe he actually felt something for you? Is that even possible? Can you
love an empty shell? Even if it is a very pretty shell." Her leered at
her as he dropped the book carelessly to the floor.

Cordelia wanted to run and pick it up, but she was frozen to the spot.
Standing in her room, with the man who had sworn to love, honor and
protect her forever she had never felt so alone. "Why did you marry me?"

"Because I had to." Her husband spoke casually, almost smiling.

"Why?" Her voice was haughty, and she kept her head high.

"My father threatened to cut off my trust fund if I didn't settle down
with an acceptable woman. He picked you out." Smiling openly now, her
husband walked over and sat on her bed, watching to see her reaction.

"Picked me out? What, did you give him a list of women you knew with the
right credentials?" She asked him, her mask firmly in place.

"Basically. He thought you would make good breeding material. And as
long as I'm married to you he doesn't care what I do."

Cordelia stared at him, finally understanding why he hadn't even tried
to pretend he felt anything for her after the wedding had taken place.
She had taken it for almost two years because she believed it was her
fault, something in her that turned him away. That her love for Xander
had hurt him in some way and made him into the person he was. She felt a
great weight lifting off her shoulders as she realized that she had done
nothing to make him the jerk he was. "So, I'm your ticket to a free
ride?"

"Yup." He leaned back on his elbows, grinning at her with hate.

Cordelia smiled back at him, feeling the first stirring of pleasure she
had known since she had walked away from Xander. This marriage wasn't
her punishment for losing faith, and she didn't have to stay. "Last stop
then Doug. This ticket's marked void."

He jumped to his feet, fear showing in his face. He stared at her, his
face showing his realization that he had pushed to far, and given too
much away. "Cordelia, honey, I didn't mean it. I love you, I really do.
We can make this work, go to counseling. I'll stop drinking. I promise.
We can be happy together."

Her smile grew even broader as he begged her. "No we can't. Because I
never meant any of it. When I promised to be with you forever I lied. I
was punishing myself and now I'm done."

"Cordelia.." His voice trailed off as his eyes pleaded with hers.

Turning away from him she walked into her dressing room and quickly shut
and locked the door behind her. Sitting down at her make-up table she
considered her reflection in the mirror. Slowly she began brushing her
hair, not responding to her husband's pleas from the other side of the
door.

"He won't take you back. This Alex Harris guy won't want you. No one
will. You'll be alone forever. He hates you now. He won't take you
back."

Cordelia answered his words, softly enough that he wouldn't be able to
hear her. Speaking sadly to the worn looking woman in the mirror.
"Probably not. But I can handle being alone, I've been alone for years
now."

She stood up and began throwing stuff into her suitcases, only taking a
fraction of her clothes. In less than an hour she had collected
everything that she wanted to take. Everything except the letter from
Willow, the reminder of the horrible mistake she had made that she
wanted to keep with her always. She walked into her bedroom, expecting
him to be waiting for her, to beg her to stay, but the room was empty.
Quickly getting the letter and all of Xander's books she walked out of
her bedroom for the last time.

Her husband sat in a chair by the door, an open bottle of whiskey in his
hand. "You'll be back. There is nothing for you out there."

Cordelia turned to look at him one last time. "There's nothing for me
anywhere. I'm a shell, remember?"

"What are you going to do?"

She stopped with her hand on the doorknob, suddenly realizing she hadn't
even considered anything beyond leaving the apartment. "I'm going home."
The words were out of her mouth before she could stop to think. But she
knew that she would go home. She would go home and she would apologize
for the pain she had caused.
******

Feedback, please?


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-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "mace" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "The Game Played" (0/6) by Mace
Date: 12 Jan 1999 21:15:32 -0000

TITLE: The Game Played
AUTHOR: Mace
DISCLAIMER: I do not claim to be affiliated with Joss Whedon, Mutant Enem=
y,
the Warner Brothers, or Twentieth Century Fox. I do not own Buffy the
Vampire Slayer or related characters, topics, settings, or personalities.
All this is owned by those mentioned above. Avoid suing me. I would
appreciate it and so will you.
SUMMARY: Buffy/Angel with some Willow/Oz thrown into it. This takes place
after "Lover's Walk." Faith didn't like being used by her 'Watcher' or by
one Alexander Harris. She decided it was time other people got what they
wanted. With Cordelia in the hospital and Willow and Oz having their own
problems, Faith turns to the person who wants nothing but happiness for h=
er
daughter.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I realize some of this might be off-character. I can't yet
write for Faith or really Oz. I'll get better. Upon writing this, I reali=
ze
that there is very little plot, and it is primarily an emotional piece. I
think you like it anyway because it's lacking all that **MUSH** and has s=
ome
substance.
FEEDBACK: The phrase here is 'of course.' I really love feedback. Send as
much as possible. Bubba, Snake, and Eugene are my biggest fans. They thin=
k
*everyone* should send feedback. We *know* you're reading this. Don't mak=
e
my biggest fans ruin their families' holidays (and yours) by making them
come after you.  Send it to [e-mail]

*****

PROLOGUE

*****
Angel sat in the large manor with a frown marring his angelic visage.  Hi=
s
eyes were slightly moist with tears he would *not* allow himself the grac=
e
to shed.  It wasn't bad enough that he'd lost his soul, spent months as
Angelus, went to *Hell*, fought with another Slayer, and nearly got kille=
d,
but now, his one reason for . . . existing wanted nothing to do with him.
And, for a brief moment, Angel recalled, he wasn't even existing.  Lying
with the Slayer, he *had* been alive.

Alive.  It caused more heartache that he thought a demon could cause.  In
the beginning, when Angelus was in charge of his body, it had been a
heartless killer killing.  Somehow, it was different, him knowing and, in
time, becoming friends with his victims.  It had driven the demon insane,
spending one-hundred-years trapped with a tortured soul.  Lump living wit=
h
Angel brooding and in love << Madly, passionately, and completely lost in
love . . . >>, Angelus was driven completely nuts.

Now, she didn't even want to be friends.  Not that he could blame her.  H=
e'd
treated her like trash when he was Angelus, killed Jenny Calendar, stalke=
d
her and her friends.  It's not as if he would have settled for being =91j=
ust
friends,' anyway.

Spike.  Spike knew.  He knew there wasn't anyway they could be just frien=
ds.
Angelus suspected, Angel knew that Spike was aware of just how much Angel
really *was* in love with Buffy the vampire Slayer.  He recalled the fain=
t
dust of . . . flushing . . . coloring Buffy's face when Spike was relatin=
g
to them exactly what he knew about immortal love.  And that's what it was=
. .
. .

"Um=97 Angel?" came a female voice from the door.

Angel was dismayed to think he hadn't heard her.  It had been like that
since he got out of Hell.  He'd been able to *sense* Buffy, but not hear
her.  He hadn't been able to *sense* Spike or the other Slayer. . . .

"Wh=97 yes?" Angel asked.

It was the *other* Slayer.  The one that resulted from Buffy's death.  It
was always the *other* Slayer after him.  First Kendra.  Now . . . whoeve=
r
she was.

"I'm Faith," she said without preamble.

"Faith," Angel said aloud.  "Here to kill me?"

"That was harsh," Faith said as she stepped into the room.

<< What'd you expect?  Roses? >>

"Last time I saw you, your Watcher was trying to destroy the world, you w=
ere
trying to ram a stake through my chest, and fighting Buffy.  What do you
want?" Angel asked.

"To=97 uh=97 apologize.  Xander Harris decided to use me as his
personal-vendetta-seeking-weapon. I've been avoiding him, so I won't . . .
drive a stake through his heart when I see him," Faith replied.

"I don't think I'd stop you.  He's never done anything except cause
problems.  You've apologized. Anything else?" Angel asked quickly.

"From what little I've heard from B, you were kinda . . . reserved.  What
happened?" Faith asked.

"B=97?  Buffy.  Oh, yeah.  I guess you haven't heard about everything tha=
t
happened.  Spike came back looking for a spell to get Drusilla back.  He
kidnaped Willow and Xander.  Looking for Buffy for . . . something, he en=
ded
up in Buffy's house having coffee with Misses Summers.  Buffy, Spike, and=
 I
went to look for a book, and we got ambushed by a bunch of vamps.  Xander
and Willow were caught kissing.  Oz, Willow, Xander, and Cordelia all bro=
ke
up =91cause they couldn't keep their hormones in check.  Oh, and Cordelia=
 was
nearly killed," Angel said.

"I missed a lot, huh?" Faith asked with a grin.

"You can't *not* be around and expect to keep up with everything.  Things
change *so* quickly," Angel said.

"So, what's wrong with you?" Faith asked.

"Nothing's wrong with me," Angel lied.  "You should go.  Spend too much t=
ime
around me, and you're likely to make enemies."

"S'okay.  I brought my own to Sunnydale.  And you're lying, by the way.  =
I'd
say it has something to do with Buffy, from the expression on your face.
What happened, Ang?"

"Don't call me Ang.  It's worse than Deadboy.  And, no, nothing's wrong w=
ith
me," Angel said.
Faith nodded.

"I guess I should let you get on with your mopping.  I do wanna warn you,
though.  If you don't take care of your problems, someone messes with you=
r
business and does it for you," and, with that parting shot, Faith exited =
the
mansion.

*****

Willow Rosenberg was absorbed in her own thoughts.  It wasn't bad enough
that Buffy and Angel were having serious trouble, that Miss Calendar was
dead, and there was obviously *something* wrong between Misses Summers an=
d
Giles, but now she'd messed up Oz's, Xander's, Cordelia's and her own lif=
e.

"Hey, Willow," Faith said.

"Oh, Faith, hi," Willow said as she was startled out of her reverie.

"All's not happy in romance-land, is it?" Faith asked.

"So, Buffy told you?" Willow asked softly.

"No, Ang, but he didn't give me details," Faith replied.

"Angel?  When did you see Angel?" Willow asked, frowning.

"Went to apologize for trying to stake him.  I thought it was only fair.
He's not happy.  What happened?" Faith asked.

"Buffy told me that they . . . she ended their friendship.  Spike started
talking about how they could never be *just friends*, and it kinda hit Bu=
ffy
close to home.  So, they aren't friends anymore," Willow said. << Poor
Buffy. >>

The two girls continued to stroll down the sidewalk, conversing casually
about Buffy's ex.

"Oh=97?" Faith asked, purposely in a strange tone.  "It shouldn't take hi=
m too
long to find another girlfriend.  He is *seriously* hot." << Take it,
Willow, C'mon, defend your friend's territory. >>

Willow gave Faith an odd look.

"I don't think he's gonna want anyone but Buffy.  Girls came onto him a l=
ot
in the Bronze, and he only wanted and fell for Buffy," Willow said with a=
n
edge of warning.

"Skipping over to other things.  What happened with you and Xander.  I'm =
not
trying to pry, or anything, just wondering," Faith said, quickly changing
the subject.

"It's okay.  Well, I've always had this thing for Xander, that is, until =
a
few months ago. . . ."

*****

Faith walked in the library to witness Buffy knocking the stuffing=97 or
stuffy=97 ((**HE-HE-HE**)) out of Giles.  Her face was tightened,
concentrating, not on Giles, but on something . . . or someone else.

"Ah=97 good=97 Faith," Giles said as he barely ducked a kick at
full-Slayer-strength.  "I have some research to do.  Why don't you and Bu=
ffy
train together? =97Good." He never waited for a response as he fled to hi=
s
office.

"What's his problem?" Faith asked as she eyed Giles's path, like she didn=
't
know.

"I think I scared him away," Buffy admitted as she took a swig of her wat=
er.

Faith examined Buffy's eyes and face.  It was obvious to anyone with half=
 a
brain Buffy had been crying.  A plan had been forming in the back of her
mind since she left the mansion.  Upon seeing Buffy, she got the rest of
plan in her mind.  And, it just might work.

"So, B, who were fighting?" Faith asked.

"Giles," Buffy said as if Faith was insane.

"Not from what I saw.  You were totally not focused on Giles.  So, who we=
re
you fighting?  Angel?" Faith asked.

"=97Angel?  Uh=97 no!" Buffy said, her voice a pitch or so higher.  "Why =
would I
be fighting Angel?"

"Just an observation.  Sorry, Buff, not tryin' to pry.  What's his proble=
m?
He seemed, I dunno, upset. What happened this week?" Faith asked
nonchalantly.

"You=97 you saw him?" Buffy asked, slightly surprised.

"Well, yeah, I tried to kill him.  Doesn't exactly make for the closest o=
f
relationships.  I apologized. You don't mind that I saw him, do you?" Fai=
th
asked.

"No.  Why would I?  You=97 you're just friends, right?" Buffy added quick=
ly.

<< Bingo! >> Faith thought.

"I wouldn't call us friends just yet, or anything," Faith said.  ". . .We=
ll,
I gotta go, Buff.  Kinda wanna get some vamp-dusting done. See ya later."

"Want some company?" Buffy asked as she slid off the table.

"S'okay.  Don't worry =91bout it," Faith said as she left the library.

She could barely hold her smirk back as she strolled out of the library.

*****

END PROLOGUE

*****





-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "Andrea Newbery" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Best Intentions, (5/18)
Date: 13 Jan 1999 07:39:01 PST

Title: Best Intentions
Author: Andrea
e-mail: [e-mail]
disclaimer: These characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant
Enemy, the WB, etc. They are not mine.
spoilers: Everything up to the end of season two.
distribution: Sure, just let me know.
summary: Xander/Cordelia. This fic is set in the same timeline as
Christine's amazing story, 'The Wildest Times in the World' although
technically this story takes place before that one. If you haven't read
it, e-mail me and I'll send it to you although technically this story
takes place before hers so you can read this story even if you haven't
read hers.
Feedback: Please. Good, bad, anything.
Thanks to Christine, for writing the story that started this, and for
helping me when I got stuck and for thinking up the title. And there's
still more I could thank you for. :)






Sunnydale
August 21, 2005

Cordelia leaned in the window of her car, trying unsuccessfully to grab
the mannequin that she had left sitting on the passenger side. Shifting
her weight she tried to keep a grip on the armful of stuff she was
already carrying, but failed miserably. She pulled the mannequin out of
the car and stood staring at the mess in front of her. Pushing the hair
that had escaped from her ponytail off her face she bent down to start
picking things up.

Struggling into her little shop Cordelia dropped everything just inside
the door. Shaking her head she looked down at her wrinkled shirt and the
stain on her newly dry-cleaned skirt. Noticing a long run up the front
of her nylons she sighed, wondering where all her poise had escaped to.
Her first client was coming in this morning to pick up her order, and
Cordelia needed to look like she was in control.

Walking into the little dressing room she quickly peeled off her nylons,
dumping them into the trash can.  Looking around at the clothes hanging
all around the room she pulled a simple dress off a hanger and quickly
changed.  Pulling a brush through her hair she peeked in a mirror and
decided that it was the best she could do, dropping the brush she went
back out front to straighten up before her client's arrival.

Nervously tapping her fingers along a table she checked her watch one
more time, ten minutes late now. She cursed herself for not insisting on
payment up front. But her old pride had kept her from doing anything
that might imply that she needed any money to keep this shop going. She
pictured herself having to ask her father for help, seeing the
condescending look on his face as her wrote her a check. Blocking the
thought from her head she took a deep breath and calmed herself.

Twenty minutes later Mrs. Brooks walked in through the door, her
daughter trailing behind her. Cordelia hid the relief she felt as she
showed them the dresses, helped them try them on and took the check Mrs.
Brooks held out to her. She saw them to the door and once it closed
behind them she turned around, walking shakily over to her chair and
sitting down. She looked at the check in her hand, quickly subtracting
the money she had spent on material and the money she needed to pay her
rent. It would cover everything and then some. She smiled, Mrs. Brooks
would tell all her friends at the country club and soon she would have
more business than she could handle. As long as she kept the illusion
alive that was, if anyone actually thought that Cordelia Chase needed
their money she wouldn't get one more penny of it. But if they thought
that she was just another socialite with too much time on her hands she
was set. They didn't need to know her father wouldn't give her a cent
unless she moved back into his home, or that she would rather die than
do that.

She needed to prove to herself that she could do something on her own,
maybe even be good at it. And that she could be alone, with no one to
protect her and still she could survive. She didn't understand exactly
why it was so important to her that she be totally self-sufficient, but
it was.  If she ever saw Xander again, ever got a chance to explain to
him , she didn't want him to think that she was the shallow person she
once had been.

She laughed bitterly to herself at her thought that she may see Xander
again. She had been in town for almost three months and hadn't seen any
of the old gang. She wasn't even sure if he still lived here, if any of
them did. She assumed that Buffy and Giles were around, because of the
Hellmouth.  But it was probably better if they weren't here anyway, they
would never forgive her, Xander would never forgive her and it would be
hell to see him living his life with someone else.

Her life continued much the same over the next few weeks. After Mrs.
Brooks she had more clients than she could handle; and everyone wanted a
Cordelia Chase original. She worked until late every night, careful to
always carry a cross and a squirt gun full of holy water. She worked
every day, never taking a  day off, using the work to block out the
choking loneliness and the urge that grew stronger every day to seek
Xander out, to try and make him forgive her.  She worked even later on
the nights when the feeling was strong, hoping that one day it would
fade, or that one day she would have the courage to actually do it. To
go and find him and try to explain and apologize for the pain she caused
him. She couldn't do it though, the thought of seeing hate in his eyes
freezing her.  It was one of the nights when the pain was almost
unbearable that she saw one of them again.

"Cordelia Chase doing manual labor. Now I have seen it all." Buffy's
voice dripped sarcasm as Cordelia dropped the piece of material she had
been pinning together to the floor.

Putting on her best Cordelia face, the one she usually reserved for her
haughtiest clients she considered the Slayer. She felt her stomach lurch
at the coldness in the Slayer's eyes, and the expression of distaste on
her face. Cordelia stood and waited for the Slayer to continue, not
knowing what to say to her.

"I heard a nasty rumor that you were back in town and I had to check it
out. I guess Giles was right when he said that Sunnydale attracts all
sorts of bad guys." Buffy spoke harshly.

Cordelia watched Buffy speak, unable to understand the words over the
roar in her ears. She knew she would cry later, feel the pain of the
words, but she was unable to do anything more than stare mutely at
Buffy.

"What, no witty comeback. No insult on my outfit, or hair? Are you
slipping Cordy?" Buffy walked around the shop, examining the dresses
that hung on racks all along the walls. Turning back to Cordelia she
looked her up and down before speaking again. "Did hubby not have enough
money to satisfy you? Or was it that you didn't satisfy him?" Arching
one eyebrow the Slayer looked at her.

Cordelia could only stare in shock as the girl she had given up
everything for threw insults at her. She moved forward then, her mouth
opening to speak, to scream at the Slayer. To tell her of everything she
had given up for her. To tell her that she had seen her kiss Xander and
instead of hating her, she had given him up so that the pain in Buffy's
eyes would go away. That she had left town believing Xander would be
blissfully happy with the Slayer and that they would feel no guilt over
betraying her because she had made it easy for them. She wanted to tell
Buffy everything and watch as the self-righteous look faded from her
eyes. But she couldn't make herself do it, because behind the anger and
hate in the Slayer's eyes the pain was still there. The loneliness that
Cordelia now understood. Telling the Slayer wouldn't take her pain away
and it would only make the Buffy's worse.

Smiling sadly at Buffy she replied, "Something like that." Turning back
to the mannequin she picked up the material she had dropped on the floor
and returned to her work. She kept her eyes glued to the work in front
of her until she heard Buffy walk out of the room and leave the shop.

Leaning her head into her hands Cordelia let the tears slip down her
cheeks. She had been surprised by the level of animosity the Slayer had
towards her. Wiping the tears off her face she sat rubbing her forehead
for a minute, speaking softly into the empty room. "Well, let it never
be said that I don't leave a lasting impression."

Taking a deep breath she picked up her pins and began working again.
*******


______________________________________________________
Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "Leslie S." <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Buffy, Giles, Joyce and Faith (1/1)
Date: 13 Jan 1999 09:54:59 PST

TITLE: Buffy, Giles, Joyce and Faith (1/1)
(For lack of a better title-If you got a better one, let me know before
I archive it!)
AUTHORS: LilS, Shalona, Tay and LeTrek
EMAIL: [e-mail]
DISTRIBUTION: My pitiful fanfic site.
http://beavis.bwave.com/~lilsprout/fanfic.html
But if anyone wants it, just let me know and it shall be yours!!!
RATING: PG
SPOILERS: Nothing specific, but takes place this season.
SUMMARY: Just an average night in the life of a Slayer
DISCLAIMER: Characters are borrowed from Joss Whedon and crew.  No
infringement is intended.
FEEDBACK: is a good thing.  But no pressure!

NOTE: This round robin fic was spawned one evening due to the fact that
our real-time on-line Buffy role playing game was cancelled due to real
life happenings.  Great literature it ainÆt, but we had fun doing it.

If you are interested in Buffy chat or want more info on joining our
role-playing group, please check out
http://www.geocities.com/SouthBeach/Shores/4145/

*****

Buffy was finishing the last of her dinner, keeping an eye to the clock.
The sun had been down for almost an hour now and Giles had been
particularly concerned about a prophesy from the codex he had recently
discovered.  Joyce noticed Buffy seemed to be concerned with the time.
"Soànew prophesy?"  she inquired."

Buffy looked blankly at her mom for moment.  It was still hard
remembering that she knew about her slaying activities.  "Sorry mom.  I
guess you got me.  But yes, Giles has his tweed in a bunch over
something.  I am supposed to meet Faith in about 20 minutes at the
Northpoint Cemetery."

Joyce nodded.  She really hated that her daughter, her only baby went
out night after night to face unspeakable horrors.  But she had resigned
herself to it.  "Well take your time.  IÆll give you a lift if you
want."

"Thanks mom."  Buffy had to admit, that although she hated that her mom
knew, it could be really handy.  After dinner was finished, Joyce
dropped her daughter at the cemetery and went home to do the thing she
now hated most.  She had to wait.

Joyce returned home, and went inside the house. She glanced at the
clock, noting the time: 9:30 PM......and picked up a book to read after
sitting down on the couch.  As she continued to read, her eyes grew
heavy, and before long, she fell asleep.

Buffy strolled around the cemetery for a few minutes, seeing Faith at
the other end.  She wandered over and exchanged the greetings typically
teenagers exchanged.

"So what does tweedman got going on tonight?" asked Faith.

"Something about the codex.  More prophecies, you know," answered Buffy.

Faith nodded and idly flipped a stake in her hand.

Buffy leaned against a nearby tree and casually surveyed her
surroundings.  <Not much going on>  Faith let out a heavy sigh and
started to wander deeper into the cemetery.

"Where are you off too?"  Buffy asked.

"Just...you know.  Looking around, keeping watch.  That is why we're out
here isn't it B?"  Faith turned and offered Buffy a semi smile.  She
obviously didn't see what had creeped up behind her.

Or at least that is what Buffy thought as her eyes grew wide at the
sight of the hulking creature looming over Faith.

For as Buffy was about to shout a warning, FaithÆs arm pulled back and
slammed into the vamp.  Tall and  large just laughed as the stake Faith
had tried to impale him with splintered in tiny fragments.  He then
grabbed her by the neck and lifted her off the ground.

Faith flailed about as Tall And Large started squeezing. Buffy came
running up into a leaping kick that knocked T&L back and loosed Faith
from his grip.

"Sooo, not a fan of our local wood products, eh?"  Buffy said to T&L.

T&L merely growled, baring his fangs.  But Faith held up her
pocket-cross [tm] and held him at bay.

"So what do we do now, B?  she asked.

"I'm gonna go with kill 'em, F."  Buffy yelped.

"With mouth that smart you oughta be able to figure out how we do that
right Buffster?"  She asked.

"But of course."  Buffy ran over to a nearby grave a grabbed a shovel
that was laying nearby.  She rushed over to Faith just as TnL lunged
forward and knocked the pocket-cross [tm] from Faiths hand. Buffy
pressed onward and swung the shovel at TnL's neck.  He masterfully
dodged and grabbed Buffy by the throat pinning her to a tree.

(lotta throat grabbing tonite-Tay)

"My turn."  He growled and yanked the shovel from Buffy's grip and
thrust it forward into her midsection.  Buffy yelled just asà..

Joyce Summers awoke with a start.  "...Buffy..."  she whispered.
Overcome with a sense of dread, Joyce raced to her car.

She was at the gates of the cemetery in 5 minutes flat.  She flung open
her door trying to decide which way to go.  Before she picked a
direction, she reached under the driver seat and pulled out the mother
of all crosses and one VERY large wooden stake.

She took a few cautious steps in the direction of a mausoleum.  She
remembered a conversation she and Buffy had recently had about certain
nocturnal activities that she had shared with Angel on occasion.  And
that thought made her very mad.  Her daughter should be doing "things"
with her boyfriend that I shouldnÆt approve of .  Not risking her life
each and every night.

As she neared the mausoleum she could hear the sounds of voices.  No
waità.that was screaming.  That was Faith screaming.  She  quickened her
pace and was soon on the scene.

She saw Buffy beating frantically at this horrible beast while he had
Faith by the throat (poor thing) up against a tree!

(gotta love the throat grab-age-LeTrek)

Joyce ran toward the group brandishing her Mama-Cross [pat. pend.]  "Get
the *hell* away from my daughter," she yelled, realizing that sounded
too familiar.  "And her friend," she added.

T&L reeled backward from the large, ornate cross that Joyce had
"borrowed" from the gallary.  Buffy scrambled over to make sure Faith
was okay.

"Umm, Buffy," her mother asked.  "What do we do now?"

Buffy looked between her mother and a very angry, very unhurtable foe
and opted for the obvious.  "Is the car unlocked?"

"Yeah."

"Then we run!!"

 "Run?  Slayers never say 'Run'".  Faith yelled. "Can't we just lop Ol'
Ugly's head off with a shovel or something?"

 "NO!"  Joyce yelled.

 TnL  growled loudly and reached for Faith, scraping her blouse.  Joyce
stepped forward and kept him at bay.

"Okay, well...if you really want to..."  The three women made a break
for it.

Buffy grabbed Joyce's Mama Cross [p.p.] and started racing sideways
keeping the cross facing the path behind them.  "Oh...fudge."  She heard
Joyce say.

 "In so many ways I don't like the sound of that." Buffy said.

"I can't find my keys."  Joyce cried.

"You gotta be kidding me."  Faith complained breathing hard.

"Well I am not, Faith." Joyce replied equally out of breath.  "I must
have dropped them back at the mausoleum."

"Terrific." Faith wheezed.

"Hey!  A little less talking and more running." Buffy panted.

As the group rounded a grouping of trees, Faith ran right intoà..

...the road.  "Okay..." Buffy squeaked.  "Car is...where, Mom?"

"I parked right near the gate.  We must have passed it...I..."  Joyce
stammered.

"Well I feel a major 'Who cares?' coming on, seeing as we don't have the
keys anyway."  Faith sneered.

"Point taken Faith."  Joyce said somewhat sternly.

Buffy grabbed them both.  "Can we take this moment to not fight?!"

"Why?"  Faith retorted.

"Not in front of the company."  Buffy gestured to TnL who was now
standing in the middle of the road.  He stalked forward and was about to
strike when a rusty old Citroen slammed into him, hurtling him a good 6
ft.

Giles threw open the door to his trusty if not rusty car and ran over to
TnL who was sprawled in the middle of the road.  As the women looked on,
they could see that Giles was holding a rather large metal-looking
stake.  He thrust the stake into TnLÆs chest and was moments later
rewarded with a cloud of fine ash.

"Hello metallic fatality!"  Buffy exclaimed as Giles came toward her,
Joyce and Faith.

He straightened his tie and took off his glasses and cleaned them with
his ever present Watcher-Hanky [tm].  "Yes, well that did the trick."

Buffy looked between the pile of ash and Giles (played by ASH), "So was
this the guy you read about in the codex?"

"Codex," he replied, "What do you mean?  I wasn't saying Codex...I was
saying Kleenex [tm].  I was reading the offer on the back of the Kleenex
[tm] box."  *sniiiiif*

Buffy sighed, "Giles, remind me next time to have someone turn you into
a vampire just so I can stake you."

Joyce patted Buffy on the back, "It's alright dear.  Who's up for some
chocolate mousse?"

~end~





______________________________________________________
Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "mace" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "The Game Played" (2/6) by Mace
Date: 13 Jan 1999 11:24:03 -0000

TITLE: The Game Played
AUTHOR: Mace
DISCLAIMER: I do not claim to be affiliated with Joss Whedon, Mutant Enem=
y,
the Warner Brothers, or Twentieth Century Fox. I do not own Buffy the
Vampire Slayer or related characters, topics, settings, or personalities.
All this is owned by those mentioned above. Avoid suing me. I would
appreciate it and so will you.
SUMMARY: Buffy/Angel with some Willow/Oz thrown into it. This takes place
after "Lover's Walk." Faith didn't like being used by her 'Watcher' or by
one Alexander Harris. She decided it was time other people got what they
wanted. With Cordelia in the hospital and Willow and Oz having their own
problems, Faith turns to the person who wants nothing but happiness for h=
er
daughter.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I realize some of this might be off-character. I can't yet
write for Faith or really Oz. I'll get better. Upon writing this, I reali=
ze
that there is very little plot, and it is primarily an emotional piece. I
think you like it anyway because it's lacking all that **MUSH** and has s=
ome
substance.
FEEDBACK: The phrase here is 'of course.' I really love feedback. Send as
much as possible. Bubba, Snake, and Eugene are my biggest fans. They thin=
k
*everyone* should send feedback. We *know* you're reading this. Don't mak=
e
my biggest fans ruin their new clothes (and yours) by making them come af=
ter
you.  Send it to [e-mail]

*****

PART TWO

*****

"Faith . . . This is Joyce . . . He came by last night . . .  Yeah, I tol=
d
him . . . He was reluctant . . . Go to step two. . . . Don't worry about =
the
curse.  I have that taken care of . . ."

Joyce hung up just as Buffy came down the stairs.  She had orange juice a=
nd
sticky buns waiting for her daughter.

"Ooh=97 sticky buns! . . .These weren't made by a certain psycho boyfrien=
d,
were they?" Buffy asked suspiciously.

"No, of course not," Joyce said with a smile.

"Good then," Buffy said as she took a bite.

*****

"Hey," Buffy said softly.

"Hey," Angel replied.

"I couldn't. . . . I couldn't stay away from you," Buffy admitted.

"You shouldn't be here.  You're right, we can't ever be =91just friends.'=
 Even
Spike could tell that we'd never be just friends," Angel said.

Buffy looked up into his eyes and planted perhaps the most chaste kiss of
his life on his lips.  They weren't even touching.

"Maybe I don't want to be just friends," Buffy said.

"Maybe?" Angel said slowly with an amused glint in his eyes.

Buffy crushed herself against Angel, and Angel crushed himself against
Angel.  And, they held each other.  He didn't care what the Watcher or an=
y
of her friends wanted.  She was his.  That's all that mattered.

"I love you," he whispered.

"Angel, I . . ."

Angel shot up in of bed and looked around the room.  He couldn't believe =
it.
<< A dream?  It was a dream? >> He could still feel the kiss on his lips.=
 <<
No!  No, why?  It . . . >>

"Buffy," he whispered, his voice filled with pain.

*****

"Hey, Cordy," Buffy said.

"Hi, Buffy," Cordelia said weakly.

"How are you feeling?" Buffy asked as she set some flowers down.

"Like I was stabbed in the stomach by a piece of wood, and someone ripped=
 my
heart and crushed it.  Oh, wait, it happened," Cordelia said bitterly.
"What about you?"

"I'm good.  I mean, well, my mom knows Angel's back.  I'm not friends wit=
h
Angel anymore, like we ever could be friends anyway.  He'll probably leav=
e
Sunnydale now if it makes you feel safer," Buffy said.

"I'm sorry, Buffy," she said weakly.  "And, no, it doesn't make me feel
safer.  I know you liked=97 loved him."

"I did," Buffy admitted.

"You don't now?" Cordelia asked.

"It doesn't matter," Buffy said, cutting her eyes.

"Buffy," Cordelia said, "one brokenhearted girl to another, get what you
want.  You need a little less =91I'm-the-Slayer-and-save-the-world' and a
little more Cordelia Chase Queen Bitca of Sunnydale.  Do what you want,
Buffy."

"Last time I did what I wanted, I left town," Buffy said.
Cordelia didn't have anything to say about that.  It was obvious the girl
still cared about Angel, and everyone had practically stoned her to death
when they found out Angel was back.  Giles should have understood what Bu=
ffy
was going through.  He'd been understanding *until* Angel had come back.
He'd lost someone he loved=97 Miss Calendar, and Giles would have done
anything in his power to have her back.  Buffy *had* a chance to get her
love back, but no one seemed to understand.

There was a comfortable silence.

"Buffy," Cordelia said.

"Yeah?"

"Out of all the friends I've ever had, you're probably the best.  I mean,=
 I
harassed you, called you names, and been a bitca to you.  And, you saved =
my
life so many times. . . .  I've never had a friend like you," Cordelia sa=
id.
<< You've never betrayed me. >>

"It's okay, Cordy.  You've really turned out to be nice.  I mean, there w=
as
that problem with the Homecoming and all, but you're a good friend," Buff=
y
said.

"Thank you.  It means a lot to me.  You have to go, don't you?" Cordy sai=
d.

"Why?" Buffy asked.

Cordy motioned to the window.

"It's dark," Cordy said.

"Oh, yeah, patrol."

"You'll come back tomorrow?" Cordy asked hopefully.

"Yeah, I will if you want me to," Buffy said.

"I do."

On an impulse, Buffy leaned over and hugged the injured girl lightly.
As Buffy left, Queen C could be seen with tears in her eyes.

*****

The Bronze . . .

Oz and Willow were dancing to a slow song.  The Dingoes weren't playing t=
hat
night, and so Oz had a free night.  That was how Xander found the two of
them.  Strangely, though, he couldn't bring himself to feel upset about i=
t.
It only deepened the gash in his heart when his Queen was missing.

"Hey, Xander," Faith said.

"Hey, Faith, you look nice," Xander said.

"Thanks, Xander.  I'm going to meet someone," Faith said.

"Oh=97 Faith's got a love interest?" Xander teased.  "So, is he worthy of=
 the
mighty Slayer?"

"I would suppose so, but it's not like that.  I'm just going to see Angel=
,"
Faith said.

Xander paled visibly.

"Angel?  Buffy's ex-honey, Angel?" Xander asked.

"Yeah.  Why?" Faith asked.

"He's dangerous!" Xander declared.

<< And you know you want to follow me, Harris.  C'mon.  I might get hurt.=
 >>
Faith thought.

"It's not really any of your business, is it?  I mean, the worst he could=
 do
is tie me up and carry me  to his lair.  At least, that would be fun," Fa=
ith
said as she sauntered out of the Bronze.

<< She's right.  She might get hurt.  I'm not letting that freak hurt any=
one
else. . . . Fun?  She thinks it would be fun?!? >>

*****

"Angel?"

Angel's eyes focused on the woman in front of them. << Buffy's mom. >> He
dropped his hands to his sides and straightened up.

"Hi," Angel said.

"That that you were doing.  What was that?" Joyce asked.

"Tai chi," Angel answered.

"Would you like to go for a walk?  I want to know what really went on all
this time.  I ask Buffy, but I know it hurts her to think about it.  Rupe=
rt
is too hung up on staking you to give an objective view. I want you to te=
ll
me, in your own words, what =91losing your soul' really was," Joyce said.

"It's not really safe to go for a walk in the dark in Sunnydale," Angel
said.

"You'll protect me," Joyce said surely.

"How do you know I won't kill you a drink your blood?" Angel asked,
narrowing his eyes.

"Because you wouldn't have said anything if you were," Joyce said.

"Let me get a shirt," Angel said.

*****

Faith could hear Xander behind her about a couple of feet.

"Angel?" Faith practically yelled.

There was no answer, for Angel and Joyce had left about fifteen minutes
prior.

Faith moved a Queen Anne's chair facing away from the window, so, when
Xander eavesdropped (Faith was sure he would), Xander wouldn't be able to
tell Angel wasn't there.  And, even if he was, Xander wouldn't have been
able to hear Angel because he was facing the wall and a good twenty feet
away from the window.  She surveyed the room and waited until she heard
Xander.

<< Hurry up, Harris, I don't have time to wait on your slow butt. . . . >=
>
He stepped on some leaves.  << Showtime! >>

"Look, Angel," Faith began, "it wouldn't be like a serious relationship.
You have a seriously good-looking bod, and you seem like a nice guy.  I k=
now
you're worried about Buffy. . . ."

"Even if we did =91do the deed,' I wouldn't cause you a moment of happine=
ss.
I'm not Buffy.  You don't love me, and will always love her. . . . I'm no=
t
upset or jealous.  I don't want a serious relationship, Angel.  Just some
company," Faith said.

<< Not that way, Faith?  Angel is Buffy's . . . >> Xander felt like he wo=
uld
spit. << Why do I care who Deadboy dates? >>

"I don't really know if Buffy still loves you," Faith lied to the empty r=
oom
and Xander.  "But, it can't really work out.  You've said that yourself. =
. .
. Forget you're a vamp and I'm a Slayer. . . . We can just have some fun=97
keep each other company=97  you know, do friend-stuff."

<< This is pretty fun.  Not only do I get to help Buffy, but I get to get
Xander back for using me as his personal hit man. >> Faith though.

<< I can't believe her!  She's double-crossing Buffy! >>

"Well=97 that's good," Faith said.  "You wanna hit the Bronze tomorrow?  =
. .
.Where, then?  . . .I don't like surprises. . . . Don't make me stake you=
! .
. .I would so!"

There was a pause.

"I gotta go, Angie.  Patrol and all," Faith said.

She leaned down as if she was giving the vampire a kiss and left.

*****

END PART TWO . . . (He-he-he-he)

*****





-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "mace" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "The Game Played" (1/6) by Mace
Date: 13 Jan 1999 11:24:10 -0000

TITLE: The Game Played
AUTHOR: Mace
DISCLAIMER: I do not claim to be affiliated with Joss Whedon, Mutant Enem=
y,
the Warner Brothers, or Twentieth Century Fox. I do not own Buffy the
Vampire Slayer or related characters, topics, settings, or personalities.
All this is owned by those mentioned above. Avoid suing me. I would
appreciate it and so will you.
SUMMARY: Buffy/Angel with some Willow/Oz thrown into it. This takes place
after "Lover's Walk." Faith didn't like being used by her 'Watcher' or by
one Alexander Harris. She decided it was time other people got what they
wanted. With Cordelia in the hospital and Willow and Oz having their own
problems, Faith turns to the person who wants nothing but happiness for h=
er
daughter.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I realize some of this might be off-character. I can't yet
write for Faith or really Oz. I'll get better. Upon writing this, I reali=
ze
that there is very little plot, and it is primarily an emotional piece. I
think you like it anyway because it's lacking all that **MUSH** and has s=
ome
substance.
FEEDBACK: The phrase here is 'of course.' I really love feedback. Send as
much as possible. Bubba, Snake, and Eugene are my biggest fans. They thin=
k
*everyone* should send feedback. We *know* you're reading this. Don't mak=
e
my biggest fans ruin their new clothes (and yours) by making them come af=
ter
you.  Send it to [e-mail]

*****

PART ONE

*****

From being in the room with Angel for barely ten minutes, Faith knew Ange=
l
wouldn't help her.  He loved her more than life itself and wouldn't ever
help her.  Xander would laugh in her face.  Cordelia couldn't even walk.
Willow was having her own problems.  Giles would tell her to mind her own
business.  There was still *a lot* of hatred for the vampire from the
Watcher.  Oz was in the same boat as Willow.  That left the undead
population of Sunnydale and Joyce.  That wouldn't work.

"Hi, Faith," Joyce greeted the Slayer.

"Hey, Misses Summers," Faith greeted her.

"Buffy's not home, Faith, but if you want to wait . . ."

"That's what I wanted to talk about.  It's about Buffy.  You know Angel's
back, right?" Faith asked.

Horror and trepidation flitted over her eyes, but it was squelched quickl=
y.

"Yes," Joyce replied.  "I found out about that the hard way."

"They=97 they aren't seeing each other anymore.  I guess I understand tha=
t.
But, Buffy broke off their friendship earlier. . . ." Faith turned on the
innocence.  "I was wondering if you knew of anything I could do to make h=
er
. . . feel better."

"Feel better?" Joyce asked, seemingly dumbfounded.

"I mean, I feel kinda funny talking about it to her mother," she offered
with a smile, "but Buffy and Angel really loved each other a lot.  I wasn=
't
even here, and I can see that.  I *think* Buffy's still in love with him,
and I *know* Angel loves her so much it hurts."

Joyce frowned.

"So, if Buffy does still love Angel, even after all he did, why wouldn't =
she
want to see him or even be friends, Faith?  I think you're reading it
wrong," Joyce said.

"=91Cause=97 well=97 because of everyone else.  Xander practically had me=
 murder
Angel for him.  Giles jumped all down her throat.  No one was really
supportive of her or what she wanted.  No one really knows it, but Buffy'=
s
used to being=97 well=97 walked on.  She saved the world and sent her boy=
friend
to Hell, and no one thanks her.  She's gotta be the Slayer even though sh=
e
might die.  She doesn't get a choice, so she gave in to what everyone els=
e
wanted," Faith said.

Joyce absorbed the dark-headed girl's words.

"And what do you want?" Joyce asked.

"I've never had any real friends, not like this, and I haven't even been
here all that long.  Xander got involved in someone else's business, and =
I
got thrown up against Buff.  I've never done anything to hurt her, and sh=
e
defended Angel against me.  People, my fake watcher and Xander, used me f=
or
their own gain.  I just wanna make it up to Buffy," Faith said.

"It embarrassed you, didn't it?  That someone tricked you into thinking
something entirely different that what was happening?" Joyce asked.
Faith nodded, wondering where all this was going.

"Now, you know how I felt when I found out Buffy was a Slayer.  That I co=
uld
be that gullible, it humiliated me.  I guess I've been like that again.  =
I
want Buffy to be happy, and I thought sending her to college would do it.
You heard about her SAT's?"

"Yeah, she did good," Faith said.

"She doesn't want college.  She wants that boy, Angel, the vampire that's
old enough to be my great, great, great, great . . . grandfather,"
Joyce said with a sigh.  She looked at Faith.  "So what are you planning?=
"

Faith smiled.

*****

"Buffy, did you know Faith went to see Angel?" Willow asked.

Buffy looked up.

"Yeah, she told me.  Why?" Buffy asked.

"I was=97 uh=97 just wondering," Willow replied.  "She said she had gone =
to
apologize, and I was just wondering if you knew."

"Yeah, she told me.  So, how's everything?" Buffy asked.

"Okay, I mean, I haven't really seen Xander or Oz or Cordelia, but I gues=
s
everything's okay," Willow said.

"What was it, Willow, that made you and Xander . . . you know?"

"Betray our boyfriends and girlfriends?" Willow asked.

"I wasn't gonna say that," Buffy interrupted.

"I know, but it's true. . . ."

"Willow. . . ."

She quickly interrupted.  "It was just . . . that I hadn't.  I just wonde=
red
if he was everything I thought he was.  If I had said something, I would
have been happy.  If he was really who I wanted, or if I was just too stu=
ck
to the dream," Willow said with a wistful look.

"And?" Buffy prompted.

"It was all just the dream, and I won't even have Xander =91cause I don't
really love him.  I just had to know," Willow said.  "I really . . . I
really really . . . love Oz.  I love Oz.  I do.  He's so sweet and just w=
hat
I wanted.  But, there was always this doubt, and it kept growing and grow=
ing
and growing until I wasn't sure if Oz was a substitution for Xander or if=
 I
wasn't ready to let go of him."

"And now you *want* Oz, but can't have him because you made a mistake,"
Buffy said with a frown.

"Maybe you didn't," came a soft voice from the door.

Willow felt a hot blush stain her cheeks.

"O=96Oz?" Willow asked softly.

"Hey, baby," he said.

Buffy slipped from the room softly as Oz approached Willow.

No one noticed her anyway.

*****

Faith barely escaped Buffy's house before Buffy got home.  When, Buffy go=
t
in, Joyce was setting the table for dinner.  Joyce had to hand it to the
other Slayer, she was clever.  Joyce wasn't sure she liked Angel or wante=
d
him to get back together with her daughter, but still . . .

Faith was right.  The beginnings of dark circles were under Joyce's
daughter's eyes.  Her face was marked with a far away look.  Joyce could
only guess where Buffy was.  Dinner was eaten in silence, not uncomfortab=
le
silence, but the silence of two women who had much on their minds.  Joyce
observed her daughter slowly, taking in each minuscule detail and compari=
ng
it with what she had seen only days before.

<< Oh, Buffy. >>  It occurred to Joyce that Angel now had an all-access p=
ass
to her house.  It unnerved her for a moment before she realized he'd been
invited into her house almost since they moved to Sunnydale.  It was only
after Angel lost his soul that he became a threat.  He was really a
different person.

<< What if they . . . do it again? >> she asked. << Somehow, I doubt it.
The phrase, =91scarred for life' seems appropriate right now.  My poor ba=
by.
>>

"So, aren't you gonna ask?" Buffy interrupted Joyce's thought.

"Ask what, Buffy?" Joyce asked.

"About Angel.  How long he's been back.  Why I didn't tell you.  What
happened," Buffy said.

She'd heard it second-hand from Faith.  It never occurred to Buffy she
already knew.

"I thought you'd tell me when you were ready," Joyce said.  "Are you?"
Buffy sighed.

"I guess.  Angel's been back since before Homecoming, about mid-October. =
 I
didn't tell you because I=97 I know it was hard for you to deal with the
slaying=97 to still have to deal with it.  I didn't want to pile this on =
you
too," Buffy said.

"I wish you *had* told me, Buffy.  I could have helped *you* deal with it.
I was in the dark about your Slaying for so long.  I don't want to be in =
the
dark about your life anymore," Joyce said.

Buffy half-smiled.

"But, we aren't seeing each other anymore.  We=97 we can't be =91just fri=
ends'
like some people manage to do.  It would be just too hard on both of us,"
Buffy said.

"Did you discuss this with him?" Joyce asked.

"I told him," Buffy replied.

Joyce could see the change in her daughter.  It was so startling sometime=
s
that Joyce wanted to just shake Buffy until she was they way she used to =
be.
Even as the Slayer, those precious few months after the summer she died a=
nd
before her birthday Joyce remembered her daughter seeming so alive then.

"Do you love him?" Joyce asked.  "Does he love you?"

Buffy looked up from her plate.

"He loves me," Buffy said.

"Do you love him?"

Joyce was practically on the edge of her chair waiting for the answer.
Joyce knew if Buffy could forgive, she could too.  Everything that Joyce
thought about this boy Angel depended on this.  If Buffy thought it was
*worth* it. . . .

"It doesn't matter that I still love him," Buffy said softly.  "It's not
what's best."

"Best for whom, Buffy?" Joyce asked.

Buffy was oblivious to the tears in her eyes.  And, she shrugged.

"Everyone," Buffy said, though it was more than a question than an answer.

*****

An hour after Buffy had gone to bed and Joyce was sure she was asleep, Jo=
yce
slipped into Buffy's room and sat in a chair out of view of the window.
Buffy was usually a heavy sleeper.  Joyce suspected it was from all the w=
ork
and strain her seventeen-year-old daughter faced.

A shadow covered the moonlight in Buffy's window.  Joyce held her breath =
as
the man slipped through her daughter's window.  He silently approached th=
e
sleeping girl and barely stroked her face with his fingertips.  Buffy lea=
ned
into his touch, even sleeping.  He flattened his palm on her cheek and he=
ld
it there for a moment.

"Buffy . . ." he whispered with great pain.

He stepped back about a foot.

"Hello, Angel," Joyce said softly.

Angel whirled around and looked at the Slayer's mother with wild eyes.  S=
he
offered the faintest of smiles before approaching the vampire.  He was
surprised she wasn't yelling her head off at him, but he was too afraid t=
o
move.  He'd fought some of the most dangerous vampires, Slayers, and demo=
ns
on earth, yet he was afraid of this mortal woman.  The Slayer's mother.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't scream right now," Joyce dared.
He was silent for a moment, wondering what answer would express what he w=
as
thinking.

"You would wake her up," Angel replied, whispering.

Joyce nodded in understanding.

"I want you to understand something," Joyce said.


"I'm sorry.  I just wanted to see her.  I=97 I'll go," Angel said as he
turned.

"Wait, I didn't tell you to leave," Joyce replied almost harshly.

<< Is she insane? >> Angel wondered. << If she is, it's my fault. >>  Ang=
el
glanced at Buffy as she softly moaned in her sleep.  He wondered what
she was dreaming or what nightmare she was having.


"Did Buffy tell you what happened during the thing with . . . Acathla?"
Joyce asked.


"Not all of it," Angel said.


"I kicked her out of the house because I couldn't accept her being the
Slayer.  She spent the summer living on her own, taking care of herself,"
Joyce said slowly.


Angel looked shocked and horrified.


"She=97 she was alone?" Angel asked.


Joyce nodded.


"None of us knew it was *you* she sent to Hell and not Angelus. . . ."

"We're the same," Angel interrupted.

"Did you always interrupt your mother when she was talking?" Angel gave h=
er
a slight nod and a little  half-smirk.  "If you and Angelus were the same=
,
you would have tried to kill Buffy instead of watch her sleep.  You must
really love her to find some pleasure in watching her sleep," Joyce said.

"Maybe some perverse pleasure. . . ."

"Maybe I ought to slap you where you stand," Joyce threatened.  "Maybe *y=
ou*
think you *deserve* to be tortured. . . .  As I was saying, Buffy doesn't
have much.  I mean, I like to think I provide for her the material things
she needs . . . except a car . . . but there's only so much I can give he=
r.

"You took a little girl, and you fell in love with her.  And you made her
fall in love, and you changed her into a woman.  I'm her mother.  I love =
her
more than I love myself.  But, you, you're *her* Angel.  And, I honestly
don't know if she can live without you. . . ."

"She can do fine without me.  She's strong, the strongest person I know.
It's not just me, Misses Summers. . . ."

"Joyce."

"Joyce, it's everything.  It's just unnatural.  I'm a vampire, and she ki=
lls
vampires.  Everything around us goes against it . . ."

"Don't you mean every*one*?"

"Everyone too.  =97It doesn't matter.  We can't.  Not again.  We thought =
we
could make it work, and it  didn't," Angel said.

"I want what's best for her.  If that's you, then so be it.  It's no one'=
s
business but yours and hers," Joyce said.

"There isn't anything to be anyone else's business.  It's over," Angel sa=
id
as he slipped out his lover's window.

"There will be. . . ."

*****

END PART ONE. . .

*****





-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "mace" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "The Game Played" (5b/6)
Date: 13 Jan 1999 12:14:59 -0000

TITLE: The Game Played
AUTHOR: Mace
DISCLAIMER: I do not claim to be affiliated with Joss Whedon, Mutant Enem=
y,
the Warner Brothers, or Twentieth Century Fox. I do not own Buffy the
Vampire Slayer or related characters, topics, settings, or personalities.
All this is owned by those mentioned above. Avoid suing me. I would
appreciate it and so will you.
SUMMARY: Buffy/Angel with some Willow/Oz thrown into it. This takes place
after "Lover's Walk." Faith didn't like being used by her 'Watcher' or by
one Alexander Harris. She decided it was time other people got what they
wanted. With Cordelia in the hospital and Willow and Oz having their own
problems, Faith turns to the person who wants nothing but happiness for h=
er
daughter.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I realize some of this might be off-character. I can't yet
write for Faith or really Oz. I'll get better. Upon writing this, I reali=
ze
that there is very little plot, and it is primarily an emotional piece. I
think you like it anyway because it's lacking all that **MUSH** and has s=
ome
substance.
FEEDBACK: The phrase here is 'of course.' I really love feedback. Send as
much as possible. Bubba, Snake, and Eugene are my biggest fans. They thin=
k
*everyone* should send feedback. We *know* you're reading this. Don't mak=
e
my biggest fans ruin their holiday (and yours) by making them
come after you.  Send it to: [e-mail]

*****

Part 5b

*****

Buffy's mind was too clouded with grief to notice that her mother was sti=
ll
asleep.  Buffy hadn't slept at all from the time she got home until she w=
ent
to school to confront the Watcher.  She was running on pure emotion and
adrenaline.  The only thing on her mind: Angel dead and Faith about to be
that way.

"Maybe . . . maybe he's just . . . off someplace brooding," Willow tried
lamely.

"I=97 I looked everywhere.  I=97 I can't find Faith or Angel," Buffy sobb=
ed.

"Buffy, perhaps you've been a little hasty in your grieving.  It is *quit=
e*
possible that Angel has been soul-searching or . . . avoiding you. . . ."

"Why would Angel do that?" Buffy asked, blinded by her anguish.

"You did=97 uh=97 sever your friendship, correct?" Giles asked.

"Look on the bright side," Xander said, "maybe Faith and Angel ran off
together."

That only increased Buffy's wailing.  Willow sent Xander a look that woul=
d
have turned Medusa into a mewling child . . . or a stone statue.  Fire li=
t
up Giles's eyes for just a moment because Xander had upset his Slayer eve=
n
more.  Giles had the strangest inkling that something was going on that n=
o
one knew about, but he didn't have enough pieces to make the picture clea=
r.

"It's=97 it's all my fault," Buffy whispered to Willow.  "I made him lose=
 his
soul, and then I got him killed." << I'm so selfish. >>

*****

Angel stifled a moan as his captors threw him into the cage.  It seemed, =
no
matter how old he got, torture was always a favorite among the evil.  Sur=
e,
Trick and his flunkies weren't anything compared to the timeless demons i=
n
Hell, but it didn't make the pain hurt any less.

They hadn't even asked him any questions yet.  Trick's minions just beat =
and
tortured him until he didn't want to move anymore.  He wouldn't have even
had a problem getting free if not for his summer vacation in Hell.  It ha=
d
made him weak, and he hadn't been able to fight back.

He was biding his time until the sun was almost set.  The older you got, =
the
more tolerant you were to the sun.  No, the older vampires couldn't *walk=
*
in the sun, but the pre-dawn vampire warning and pre-sunset twilight was
more bearable.  Angel was likely to have a massive sunburn on his face,
arms, and bare chest << Stupid minions ruined my shirt! >>, but he would
still be able to leave before most of the minions would think about
following.  ((**Yes, I *AM* inventing my own vampire lore. If you don't l=
ike
it, write your own fanfic.**))

*****

Cordelia Chase was back at school (not that she was too happy about it).
After being accosted by Harmony and her clique, rammed into by a jock, an=
d
being late for her second period class, Miss Chase was feeling not at all
perky or thrilled to be at school.

She had been avoiding Xander Harris all day, and it was getting annoying.
It seemed she was going through closet withdrawal, and it was giving her =
a
headache.  On top of that, she really wanted to see what the *::big, echo=
ing
voice::* Mouth of Hell *::end voice::* was going to spit at them this wee=
k,
but she *knew* Xander or Willow would be there.

She walked by the library, just to take a peek in, when she heard Xander'=
s
smart-alec voice make a comment and someone sobbing. << Buffy? >> She loo=
ked
in the window and found Buffy Summers Super Slayer draped over the edge o=
f a
chair and bawling in despair.

Without a second thought, Cordelia went into the library to see what was
wrong with Buffy.  Not in all the months as Angelus posing as Angel did
Cordy see Buffy so heartbroken.

"Cordy?" Xander asked, though she was oblivious.

"Buffy, what's wrong?"

Buffy looked up at Cordelia and sniffed.

"Angel's dead!"

"What?!?" Cordelia asked, shocked.

"I=97 I can't find Angel!  Faith killed him!  I know it!" Buffy said.

Cordelia felt her stomach and all its contents fall into her feet with a
squish.

"I=97 I'm so sorry, Buffy," Cordelia whispered.

It struck Cordy like a lightening bolt.  No one had ever accused her of
being too quick.  In fact, some people thought she was quite dense, but
Cordelia put what she knew together and came up with an answer.  Joyce ha=
d
been by her room, and Buffy thought Faith had killed Angel.  It all made
sense. . . . in a sense that wasn't sort of way. << Oz, much? >>

Cordelia gave her friend a hug in front of Giles, Xander, Willow, and Oz.
((*Boy, weren't they shocked?*)) Then, she tried to put pieces in that we=
re
still sort of fuzzy and bided her time until she could talk to the Slayer=
's
mother.

*****

Willow was alone in the library.  Buffy had gone home to rest.  Giles had
taken her.  Xander had mumbled something about a Twinkie and left shortly
thereafter.  Oz and the Dingoes were having practice tonight.  And, the
Scooby gang would reconvene after sunset.

The red-headed hacker was chatting with some of her technopagan friends w=
hen
she heard the door close.  Willow turned to see Joyce Summers standing th=
ere
with a framed drawing of some sort and a nervous smile.  Willow smiled
warmly and told her friends that she had to go.  Willow wasn't really sur=
e
why she had to go, but the look on Misses Summers face told her that Will=
ow
was not going to be able to continue her chat.

"Hey, Misses Summers, no one else is here besides me.  Buffy already went
home," Willow said.

"I know.  I saw Buffy and Giles heading for my house.  =97Buffy tells me
you're a witch," Joyce said bluntly.  "Or, is that offensive?  Should I c=
all
you a sorceress or a spell caster?" She trailed off.

"I don't really practice magic, but I'm not offended by being called a
witch.  Wh=97 why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering actually, and I kinda had this question.  I was goi=
ng
to asked Mister Gi=97 Rupert, but I guess you might know," Joyce said.

"Oh, is it about magic?  I know about magic, but why would you want to kn=
ow
about magic?" A frown crossed Willow's face.  "I'll just be quiet now."

Joyce smiled a motherly smile at the shy (but less-shy than before) girl.

"You probably know I run an art gallery." Willow nodded.  "Sometimes, I g=
et
stuff that I don't know anything about." Joyce could be seen with a faint
blush.  "Like a mask that raises the dead.  I got this print in a shipmen=
t
today.  It's probably from Eastern Europe from the style of script, but I
was wondering if it was some kind of spell." Joyce frowned.  "I didn't wa=
nt
to put it up if it was."

"Oh, I guess I understand that," Willow said.  "I could look at it and ru=
n
it through the translator like=97 Miss Calendar did with Angel's=97 uh=97=
 curse."

Willow scanned it and used the translator on the ancient text.  It was
cycling through all the possibilities when the phone rang.  Willow went t=
o
answer.

"Hello . . . oh, hi. . . . Yes, I'm still at the library. . . . You need =
me
to come home?  Now?  What's wrong?  =97Oh, okay. . . . No, I'm not . . . =
no, I
just. . . . Yes, I'm on my way. . . ."

"What was that about?" Joyce asked curiously.

"My mom found a small cross I keep for protection in my room when she was
putting some of my clothes away," Willow said.

"What's wrong with that?" Joyce asked.

"My parents and I are Jewish," Willow said as she tried to suppress an
impish smirk.

"Oh," Joyce said.

Willow went on to explain what would happen once the work had cycled
through.  She started to explain how to print and save, but Joyce told he=
r
that she knew from Ted.  Ted had set up the software for the gallery, and
Joyce was not completely computer-illiterate anymore.  Willow smiled,
grateful she didn't have to explain anything and fled the library.

Joyce couldn't believe how lucky she was getting.  It was quite possible
that Joyce would be able to fix things. << I'll have to give that nice ma=
n
at that shop some cookies or something nice like that. >> The frame on th=
e
spell (she knew it was a spell) had cost her an arm and a leg.  ((*Not in
the literal sense.*)) The man at the . . . Gypsy-supply store had been
=91courteous' enough to hunt the spell down.  Of course, she had to remin=
d the
man several times that Spike and Drusilla were *not* in Sunnydale, but
everything else was great.

The man had told her he knew what the spell did, but he didn't know exact=
ly
how.  It was in all the circles that the red-headed hacker had performed =
the
Soul Restoration spell, and the shopkeeper thought maybe one of them woul=
d
want it.  When Joyce had come in asking for just such a thing, he was onl=
y
happy to get rid of it.  (Though, he pretended to be otherwise.  It didn'=
t
pay to be a known nice guy.  He was a business man.)

When the spell was finished decrypting, Joyce printed it out and stuck it=
 in
her purse.  She deleted any evidence of what had been on the computer and
closed the program.  The only thing left to do was cast the spell. . . .

*****

By all rights, it wouldn't be sunset for another fifteen minutes, but Ang=
el
knew he had to get out of there, and he had to do it fast.  As quickly an=
d
quietly as possible (though that wasn't very quiet at all), Angel pried t=
he
wooden slats away from the window and burst through the second-story wind=
ow.
Angel landed on his feet (sorta) in a shower of broken glass and wood.  H=
e
heard the very audible pop of a bone being broken and cursed the demons t=
hat
had made him weak.  His body had been able to make that jump in February.=
 <<
Valentine's Day. >>

He stumbled through the alleys in the shadows, trying to find someplace f=
or
shelter.  The closest place  was the library, but he knew he couldn't go
there.  It was *dark* by now, and the vampires would be after him.

He wasn't more than twenty or so blocks away from wherever he'd been held
captive when several vampires jumped him from behind. Angel was fighting =
on
instinct and emotion.  His only desire, to get far, far away from the
minions.

Joyce Summers's slightly dented jeep pulled to a screeching halt beside
Angel and the minions.  She jumped out with a large wooden cross and thru=
st
it in the face of the nearest vampire.

"Get in, Angel," Joyce said, being sure to invite *only* Angel into her c=
ar.

Angel, too much in pain and only half-conscious to care, dived into the
driver's seat and slid into the passenger's side.  Joyce stepped in the c=
ar
and floored it, running over a vamp in the process.  She drove to the
mansion where she knew Faith would be waiting.  Angel was passed out with
his head on the window.

*****

Angel awoke as a bolt of energy lanced through him.  He opened his eyes t=
o
see the *other* Slayer peering at him nervously and his girlfriend's=97
ex-girlfriend's mother watching him in apprehension.

"Angel?" Joyce asked.

"What happened?  Joyce, what am I doing here?" Angel asked, confused.

Joyce held her hand out to Angel.  Angel, arching his eyebrow at her, too=
k
the object, the rose quartz, in his hand.  Immediately upon touching it, =
it
turned to a light purple color.  Joyce smiled and looked at Faith.  Faith
was grinning in accomplishment.

"What happened?" Angel asked again.

"Good news, Ang, there's no clause anymore," Faith said as she grinned.

"Clause?" Angel asked dumbly.

"We removed the clause from your curse," Joyce said.  "You can have your
moment of contentment now."

Simultaneously, the Slayer's mother and the other Slayer turned around an=
d
started to walk away.

"Joyce," Angel called.  She turned.  "You're sure?"

Joyce nodded.

"How?  Why?" Angel asked, utterly bewildered.

"=91Cause it was fun," Faith said.  "And, because I was tired of people
playing games with me.  I wanted to do something to make up all the troub=
le
that's been caused."

Angel looked at Joyce, expecting an answer.  Joyce shrugged.  "I'm just a
meddling mother," she said as they left.

Angel was too shocked to consider the consequences.  He laid his head on =
the
sofa and promptly passed out again.  It had been a really hard week for t=
he
immortal vampire.

*****

END PART FIVE

*****






-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "mace" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "The Game Played" (5a/6) by Mace
Date: 13 Jan 1999 12:15:30 -0000

TITLE: The Game Played
AUTHOR: Mace
DISCLAIMER: I do not claim to be affiliated with Joss Whedon, Mutant Enem=
y,
the Warner Brothers, or Twentieth Century Fox. I do not own Buffy the
Vampire Slayer or related characters, topics, settings, or personalities.
All this is owned by those mentioned above. Avoid suing me. I would
appreciate it and so will you.
SUMMARY: Buffy/Angel with some Willow/Oz thrown into it. This takes place
after "Lover's Walk." Faith didn't like being used by her 'Watcher' or by
one Alexander Harris. She decided it was time other people got what they
wanted. With Cordelia in the hospital and Willow and Oz having their own
problems, Faith turns to the person who wants nothing but happiness for h=
er
daughter.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I realize some of this might be off-character. I can't yet
write for Faith or really Oz. I'll get better. Upon writing this, I reali=
ze
that there is very little plot, and it is primarily an emotional piece. I
think you like it anyway because it's lacking all that **MUSH** and has s=
ome
substance.
FEEDBACK: The phrase here is 'of course.' I really love feedback. Send as
much as possible. Bubba, Snake, and Eugene are my biggest fans. They thin=
k
*everyone* should send feedback. We *know* you're reading this. Don't mak=
e
my biggest fans ruin their day (and yours) by making them
come after you.  Send it to: [e-mail]

*****

PART FIVE

*****

"Buffy!" Xander yelled breathlessly as he ran into the library.

Giles was=97 as always=97 researching some demon.  Buffy was beating the
stuffing out of a dummy. Willow was =91Net surfing, and Oz was content to
watch the red-headed hacker.  Startled, Buffy didn't pull her kick and br=
oke
the dummy in half.  Its upper body landed somewhere in the stacks.

"What?" Buffy asked.

"Faith is gonna kill Angel!" Xander said.

"WHAT?!?!" Buffy and the gang practically screeched.  Giles, however,
remained silent.

"It's all a plot.  Them being *friends,* hanging out together, her
apologizing.  She's gonna kill Angel night after tomorrow night!" Xander
said.

"Xander Harris!" Willow yelled.  "That is *NOT* funny!"

Xander was taken aback.  They didn't believe him?

"I swear to God and everyone on this earth, Faith asked me to keep you gu=
ys
busy two nights from now so she can kill Angel," Xander said.

Buffy wiped the sweat from her neck, grabbed her Slayer bag, and started
walking toward the door. She stopped by Xander and opened her mouth to
speak.  Giles, however, interrupted.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"To find Faith or Angel or both," Buffy said with steel, daring him to sa=
y
otherwise.

"I can't say I'm against it, at all, Buffy," Giles said in his impeccable
British manner, though harsh.

Buffy's whole face turned cold with barely concealed rage.

"*I* *don't* *care,*" she ground out.

"He tortured me for hours!" Giles hissed.

"*THE* *DEMON* tortured *me* for *six* *months*!  Don't you try to tell m=
e
how much you've suffered, Giles!  This is my decision!  I *AM* *NOT* goin=
g
to let Faith murder Angel, no matter how much you may hate him," Buffy sa=
id.

"You love him," Giles said.  "Even now."

Buffy said nothing, but turned to Xander.

"If you're lying to me. . . ." she hissed as she strode out the door.

<< It wasn't supposed to happen like this. . . . >> Faith thought as she
listened through the stacks.

*****

"Faith?" Joyce asked at the Slayer's grave expression.

"It didn't work!" Faith said.

"She's not going to save him?" Joyce asked, a frown appearing on her face.

"Yes, but she's going to kill me too!  She and Giles had this *huge* figh=
t,
pulling out all the stops. And, Buffy left the library in a blaze of fire=
,
and Giles was shakin' so bad, I though the man was having a stroke!" Fait=
h
said, more than alarmed.

"I'll see if I can find her, Faith," Joyce said, grabbing her jacket, pur=
se,
and keys.  "You stay here until I tell Buffy what *was* really happening.=
  I
can't believe it turned out like this!  For God's sake, I only wanted my
baby-girl to be happy!"

She rushed into the night to find her daughter or the immortal vampire th=
at
would save everyone a lot of trouble.  Oh=97 everyone was going to be fur=
ious.
Joyce couldn't help but smile at what her meddling had caused.  For, if s=
he
didn't smile, she would probably break down in tears.

*****

Buffy first went to the mansion.  Angel was not there, and it looked as
though he hadn't been there for some time.  Buffy was rapidly losing her
anger and gaining worry.

<< Oh, God, don't let him die.  I don't care what it takes.  I'll give up=
 my
life=97 anything=97 so he doesn't die.  I need him so much. . . . >>

She knew she was lying to herself earlier.  If Angel had said he didn't l=
ove
her, she thought maybe she would be able to let go.  But=97 oh=97 it hurt=
 so
much.

Faith was no where to be seen.  Her apartment . . . motel room . . . was
empty and actually had food in it.  This meant that Faith hadn't been hom=
e
in the last eight or so hours.  There weren't any vampires out that night=
,
but Buffy didn't really pay much attention to the lack of vamps.  It had
been like that for some time.

Angel.  Angel was gone.  Though it wasn't unusual for him to just disappe=
ar
and turn up at will, he hadn't done it since he got back. . . . From Hell.
Buffy wondered if maybe he was feeling better and back to his old, broodi=
ng
self.  It didn't figure, though.  Suffering in torment was more like it.
Even though he seemed to be=97 normal (or relatively so), Buffy could tel=
l he
was in more pain than he was letting on, both physical and mental.

<< And, I just let him go.  I didn't help him when he needed me most?  Wh=
at
kind of girlfriend am I?  Or ex-girlfriend?  Or just friend? =97Oh, Angel=
 . .
. >>

*****

"So, you're the infamous Angelus?" the man asked.

Angel's only response was an arched eyebrow.

"Not too talkative are you?" he asked.

Angel sat silently.

"Well=97" he said, "Trick, could you come in here for a second?"

The well-dressed vampire walked in.  Angel could feel him smirking as he
came in.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Angelus.  How are you, man?" Trick asked.

"What do you want?" Angel ground out.

"Well=97 here's the thing," Trick said.  "I am a man of business, a man o=
f the
world.  My employer here, he's a sort of a=97 politician."

<< Oh, God!  Demons and vampires and Hell, and now, a politician! >> Ange=
l
thought.

"It's not good business to have *two* Slayers running around, fouling thi=
ngs
up," Trick said.

Angel was silent.

"So, we want you to do something about it, Angel," Trick said.

"Trick, you obviously should know me well enough to know I won't help you=
 do
anything to either Buffy or Faith," Angel said harshly as he eyed the May=
or
(though he didn't know it was the Mayor).

"Wait!  Wait!  Angel, my man, before you turn us down, you should listen =
to
what we want to do. . . ."

"*I* *don't* *care,*" Angel hissed.

"We'll see," the Mayor said.

*****

By the time Joyce got home, it was nearly dawn.  She hadn't seen Buffy or
Angel, so she assumed they were off somewhere together.  It irked her
motherly instincts to think her seventeen-year-old daughter was with a ma=
n=97
vampire, but this was what she wanted and was willing to accept *some* of
the consequences.  She would just have to have one of the real . . .
semi-real talks other mothers had with their daughters.

Faith was sleeping on the couch.  It startled Joyce that *someone* was th=
ere
because usually her house was empty.

"Faith," Joyce whispered from across the room.  (Generally, it was a bad
idea to wake a sleeping Slayer.)

"Huh?" she mumbled.

"You should probably get home.  Buffy will probably be back soon, and eve=
n
though you didn't do anything, she might be upset," Joyce said.

Faith drowsily went home just as the sun peeked over the horizon, so she =
was
safe from vampires. Joyce trudged up the stairs and practically passed ou=
t
on her bed from exhaustion.  She didn't hear Buffy come in, didn't hear h=
er
practically crawl up the stairs, didn't hear Buffy collapse into bed, did=
n't
hear her daughter sobbing.

No, things were not going as planned.

*****

END PART 5a

*****





-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "mace" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "The Game Played" (4/6) by Mace
Date: 13 Jan 1999 12:16:10 -0000

TITLE: The Game Played
AUTHOR: Mace
DISCLAIMER: I do not claim to be affiliated with Joss Whedon, Mutant Enem=
y,
the Warner Brothers, or Twentieth Century Fox. I do not own Buffy the
Vampire Slayer or related characters, topics, settings, or personalities.
All this is owned by those mentioned above. Avoid suing me. I would
appreciate it and so will you.
SUMMARY: Buffy/Angel with some Willow/Oz thrown into it. This takes place
after "Lover's Walk." Faith didn't like being used by her 'Watcher' or by
one Alexander Harris. She decided it was time other people got what they
wanted. With Cordelia in the hospital and Willow and Oz having their own
problems, Faith turns to the person who wants nothing but happiness for h=
er
daughter.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I realize some of this might be off-character. I can't yet
write for Faith or really Oz. I'll get better. Upon writing this, I reali=
ze
that there is very little plot, and it is primarily an emotional piece. I
think you like it anyway because it's lacking all that **MUSH** and has s=
ome
substance.
FEEDBACK: The phrase here is 'of course.' I really love feedback. Send as
much as possible. Bubba, Snake, and Eugene are my biggest fans. They thin=
k
*everyone* should send feedback. We *know* you're reading this. Don't mak=
e
my biggest fans ruin their day (and yours) by making them
come after you.  Send it to: [e-mail]

*****

PART FOUR

*****

"Hey, Willow," Oz said.

"I was gonna say that=97 only without the Willow," Willow said.

Oz smiled. << I really love her. >> Even after everything she had done, h=
e
still loved her enough to accept her apology.  He had expected something
like this for some time, and he was surprised it hadn't happened earlier.
He knew she had a crush on her best-friend, and he knew it was only a mat=
ter
of time before the oblivious teenager woke up.  What he didn't know was t=
hat
she *really* cared about Oz, and she just had to get over Xander.  This
infinitely pleased Oz.

"The Dingoes aren't playing tonight.  And, I'm gonna ask you to go to din=
ner
with me tonight.  And, I'm kinda back to that
sweaty-palms-and-barely-able-to-form-a-coherent-thought stage.  So, dinne=
r?"
Oz asked hopefully.

Though Oz tended to be a little lacking an emotion except cool, Willow co=
uld
clearly see the anticipation in his voice.

"I'd like that a lot, and you don't have to be nervous.  I was gonna say =
yes
anyway," Willow said.  "Where will we eat?"

"It's a surprise, but look nice.  Not that you don't always look nice=97
really nice=97 but dress up.  Unless you don't want to, then we can just =
go to
the Bronze.  Completely no pressure," Oz said.

"Willow!  Oz!" Xander said as he came through the door.
Oz tensed slightly, but he didn't let it show. << Oh, man!!! >> Oz though=
t.

"What?" Willow asked, fidgety.

"Who is here?  Giles?  Faith?  Buffy?" Xander asked as he looked around.

"The Fuhrer asked Giles to see him.  Faith won't be here until the sunset=
s,
and Buffy hasn't gotten here yet," Willow said.

"It's just you two?" Xander asked.

Oz nodded in affirmation.

"Good.  I saw Faith last night at the Bronze," Xander began.

"And?" Willow prompted, slightly disinterested.

"She was going to meet someone," Xander said.

"That's none of our business," Oz interrupted as he and Willow started to
leave.

"It was Angel," Xander said.

Willow stopped.  "I know. They're friends," Willow said.

"I=97 uh=97 didn't know that, and well=97 I followed her," Xander said.

"Xander!" Willow admonished.

"I know, I did *another* very bad thing.  But, I eavesdropped, and I foun=
d
out that they're going to start going out together.  They're going out
tonight.  With each other.  On a date," Xander said.

"Angel and Faith?" Willow asked.  "This is still none of our business.
Xander, don't say anything!"

"What about Buffy?  You know she still loves him, and he still loves her.
Someone should tell her before she finds out on her own.  I think she'd t=
ake
it better coming from us that accidentally seeing them together," Xander
said.

"You kinda had this kill Angel thing going on earlier.  How come you're s=
o
worried now?" Oz asked.

Xander had no response.

"So, we should just keep this quiet," Willow said.

No one said anything for a long moment.

"It's not really our business=97 what Angel or Faith does," Oz said slowl=
y.
"And Angel and Buffy don't go out anymore."

"But=97 but it's Buffy," Xander said.  "We should tell her."

"You just want to get Angel in trouble because you don't like him," Willo=
w
accused.

"I don't like the guy, and he's already caused all of us pain.  We should
get this over as quickly as possible.  Buffy deserves to know, and she's
gonna find out anyway. . ."

"Find out what?" came the blonde Slayer's voice from the doorway.

The three Slayerettes looked like they had gotten caught with the hands i=
n
the cookie jar.  They all tried to come up with some plausible lie, but n=
one
was forthcoming.  Willow stepped out of the midst and approached the Slay=
er.

"Xander followed Faith last night because she was going to see Angel, and
he=97 uh=97 heard Angel and Faith.  They're going to start=97 uh=97 going=
 out,"
Willow said.

Buffy's face contorted in pain.

<< No, no, no!  Not like that!  Not pain!  Jealousy! >> Faith thought as =
she
watched from the stacks.  << You're supposed to be mad!  I'm a terrible
person!!! >>

"He=97 he deserves something, especially everything's been taken," Buffy =
said
softly.  "Maybe some happiness=97 or less pain=97 is what he needs."

Faith slipped out of the back of the stacks and went to Joyce's gallery.

*****

"Faith," Joyce said, "did everything . . . ?"

"She's as bad as Angel.  She wasn't mad or jealous at all.  She just deci=
ded
to let him go," Faith said.

"Oh, great," Joyce said slowly.  "Now what?"

"Well=97 you can get Angel away from the mansion tonight, right?" Faith a=
sked.

"Of course," Joyce said with a smile, "I'm a mother."

Faith nodded thoughtfully.

"So what we have to do is figure out what would convince Buffy to go afte=
r
Angel if she's not jealous of her ex-, soon to be current, boyfriend," Fa=
ith
said.

A smile spread across Faith's face, and soon, it became a smirk.  Joyce
looked at Faith with an amused expression on her face.

"I think I have an idea," Faith said.

"What are we gonna do?"

"Well. . ."

*****

"Buffy, you came!" Cordelia said.

"I said I would," Buffy said cheerfully.

Cordelia paused in a moment of indecision as Buffy sat down.  She seemed =
to
gain some resolve before asking . . .

"How are Xander and Willow?"

Buffy paused.

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked.

"Together.  Are=97 are they happy?" Cordelia asked . . . hopefully(?).

Buffy wanted to look at Cordelia like she was insane.  Xander had been
particularly silent about what had gone on between Cordelia and him, but =
she
wasn't aware that Xander hadn't told Cordelia about Willow and Oz.  Buffy
glanced around the room before finally settling her eyes on the injured
girl.

"Cordy, Xander and Willow=97 they don't, I mean, Willow and Oz are still
together.  I thought Xander would have told you," Buffy said slowly.

"I haven't seen Xander since the morning after . . . after they were
kissing." There was a pause.  "When *I* saw them," she added bitterly.  "=
I=97
I told him to leave me alone.  How come Willow and Oz are . . . I mean,
wasn't Oz mad?"

Buffy was wondering if Cordelia and Xander might have a chance. . . .
"Well=97 He was Oz, but . . . Willow's had a crush on Xander since they w=
ere
kids," Buffy said.

Cordelia nodded.

"And, Oz kinda figured that this would happen someday.  But Willow was ju=
st
wondering if she was still in love with Xander or if she just couldn't le=
t
go of her crush.  She found out.  She loves Oz," Buffy said.

"They're still together."

Buffy let Cordelia absorb all this for a minute or two.

"Xander was pretty heartbroken, huh?" Cordy asked.

"He's pretty okay with Oz and Willow, and there's not really any tension
between the three of them," Buffy said.

"Oh," Cordelia said emotionlessly.

She brightened considerably.

"What about you and Angel?" Queen C asked.

"Haven't seen him since I told him we couldn't be friends.  He and Faith =
are
getting along though," Buffy said.

"Getting along, getting along?  Or just getting along?" Cordy asked.

"What do you mean?"

Cordelia almost sighed in exasperation. << Dense much? >>

"I mean are they like gonna go out?"

Buffy looked stricken.  Cordelia didn't want to do something like this to
Buffy, but no pain, no gain. She watched as Buffy gained some order on he=
r
faculties.  Buffy leveled her eyes at Cordelia, and Queen C was disturbed=
 by
the pain reflected there.

"He deserves some happiness," Buffy said.

"Isn't happiness what started this whole mess in the first place?"

Buffy flinched. << Cordy, why won't you just shut up?  I was doing just
fine!  When did you get so insightful? >> Buffy ranted in her head.

"Well, a friend then.  Or even a girl friend," Buffy replied.

<< She was right.  Buffy really is willing to let him go. >>

Cordelia sat there for a second and waited.

"Since when did Faith get so pro-vamp?  I thought she tried to kill Angel=
,"
Cordelia said.  "Are you sure she wants to be friends?"

Buffy was almost too shocked to come up with a response.

"I=97 I don't know.  She went over to apologize, and I guess they're just
friends," Buffy said as she frowned in perplexity.

"I could be wrong.  I mean, she could just find him . . . good company.
Maybe he lead an interesting life," Cordelia said as if she was trying to
comfort her friend.

"He never told me about his life," Buffy said softly.  It seems like it
would have been appropriate for her to sniff.

"I'm sorry, Buffy.  I was just trying to help," Cordelia offered lamely.

"No.  It=97 it's okay.  I *need* to get over him.  To move on." Her voice
intensified.  "Why do I have to be so dependent?  So fragile?  I'm the
Slayer, for God's sake!"

<< So in love? >> Cordelia wondered.

Buffy suddenly figured out she was tirading aloud in front of Cordelia.  =
A
blush stained her cheek bones, and she sat quiet and still for a second.

"I=97 I should go, Cordy.  I'm sorry for laying all this on you," Buffy s=
aid.

"Bye."

Buffy departed without another word.  Cordelia lay motionless for a while=
,
and someone came in the room.

"I still don't understand," Cordelia said.  "Why do you want Buffy and An=
gel
back together?  I figured you'd be all psycho-mom when you found out he w=
as
alive."

Joyce smiled.

"I'm going to give you a lesson in motherhood.  If your child wants it ba=
d
enough and can't live without it, if it's the one thing that her heart
desires, and you can provide it, you had better give it to her," Joyce sa=
id.

"So what does Faith killing Angel have to do with anything?" Cordelia ask=
ed.

Joyce smiled as she walked out the door without answering.

*****

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" Joyce asked the Slayer.

"I'm too far already to stop," Faith replied.  "=91Sides, somebody's gott=
a
help B and Angie."

"Everyone will probably be furious at you, Faith," Joyce said.

"Yeah.  They'll be mad at you too."

"Maybe," Joyce agreed, "but I'm just some meddling old woman."

Faith grinned.  "You, however, are the *other* Slayer.  They'll be more
forgiving toward me than you."

"I'm willing to take that chance," Faith said as she headed out the door =
and
toward the Bronze.

*****

"Xander," Faith said as he entered the Bronze.

"F=97faith," Xander said almost nervously.

"I wanna talk to you for a couple of minutes," Faith said. << Yeah, sneak=
ing
behind my back.  You'd better be nervous around me, kid. >>

"I guess you were pretty confused when I told you I was going to see Ange=
l
last night, right?  =91Cause, I mean, I don't exactly have any love for t=
he
vamps," Faith said.

Xander nodded.

"Well, I went about it wrong last time.  Angel is a murderer, and he need=
s
to die.  B doesn't see that, and she won't get over him until he's gone.
It's easier now that Buffy and Angel aren't hanging out anymore, but I st=
ill
need a diversion . . ."

"A diversion?" Xander asked.

"Yeah, so I can get to Angel without Buffy or Willow or Oz or Giles, for
that matter, trying to stop me.  And since you probably want him dead mor=
e
that I do, I figured you might help," Faith said convincingly.

"Me?  What can I do?" Xander asked.

"I need you to keep everyone busy night after tomorrow night.  It will be
Buffy's night to patrol, so it shouldn't be too hard to keep her busy.  W=
hen
she's finished, try to convince everybody to go to the Bronze," Faith sai=
d.

"Why night after tomorrow night?" Xander asked.  "What about tonight or
tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow is my night to hunt, and I wanna to *kill* as many vamps as I
can," Faith said.  "And tonight, I supposed to meet Angel," she finished
with a grin.

"What about Buffy?  I mean, she still cares for the murdering vampire.
Don't you think it would be better just to leave him alone?"

"You aren't going all soft on me, Harris, are you?  Xander Harris the
vampire lover?  Come on, sweet  cakes," Faith said in a teasing manner.

"I'm just worried about Buffy," Xander said weakly.

<< Moment of truth, girl friend.  You're likely to give up the best frien=
ds
you've ever had, >> Faith said to herself.

"Who cares what Buffy wants?" Faith said with an air of arrogance.

*****

Angel was hunting.  It had really been a slow couple of weeks.  Since the
infamous Spike and Drusilla fled Sunnydale and the sadistic sociopath
Angelus had been vanquished by the Slayer, Sunnydale had been deemed
uninhabitable by most of the vampire population.  Rumors floating around
said Kakistos had been wiped out by the new Slayer and the old one only
added to the lack of vamps

The only thing left in Sunnydale was a few stragglers left from the Acath=
la
incident and some demons.  He really only hunted to hone his senses.  Hel=
l
had really done a number on him.  Before, he and Buffy probably could hav=
e
taken those vamps out with no problems, not to mention Spike was helping.
But, he'd hurt himself fighting them, though, he didn't tell Buffy.  She =
had
enough problems to worry about without him adding to them.

<< Buffy. . . . >> He could feel her=97 somewhere in Sunnydale.  The othe=
r
Slayer Faith, he was getting an inkling of.  If he concentrated, he could
feel the resident werewolf somewhere. << Isn't he Willow's boyfriend?  Oz=
?
>>

He wondered about Joyce and what she had said.  Though he knew there was
something going on, he wasn't exactly sure what.  First, Faith had come t=
o
apologize.  Then, the Slayer's mother had *talked* to him twice.  It was
bizarre and somewhat startling.

While feeling the earth and the sky and the wind and the moon and Buffy a=
nd
everyone else, he wasn't concentrating on what was closest to him.  He
fought hard, but the five vampires overpowered him, and he was trapped in
the net within ten minutes.

"What?!?" Angel asked through vampire fangs.

"Mister Trick wants to see you. . . ." one of the vampires said malicious=
ly.

"Trick?  Why does he want me?" Angel asked, honestly perplexed.

"Because, he wants the Slayers," one replied.

*****

END PART FOUR

*****





-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "mace" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "The Game Played" (6/6) by Mace
Date: 13 Jan 1999 12:17:33 -0000

For anyone who got a preview, I rewrote the second to last scene. You may
want to check it out.

TITLE: The Game Played
AUTHOR: Mace
DISCLAIMER: I do not claim to be affiliated with Joss Whedon, Mutant Enem=
y,
the Warner Brothers, or Twentieth Century Fox. I do not own Buffy the
Vampire Slayer or related characters, topics, settings, or personalities.
All this is owned by those mentioned above. Avoid suing me. I would
appreciate it and so will you.
SUMMARY: Buffy/Angel with some Willow/Oz thrown into it. This takes place
after "Lover's Walk." Faith didn't like being used by her 'Watcher' or by
one Alexander Harris. She decided it was time other people got what they
wanted. With Cordelia in the hospital and Willow and Oz having their own
problems, Faith turns to the person who wants nothing but happiness for h=
er
daughter.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I realize some of this might be off-character. I can't yet
write for Faith or really Oz. I'll get better. Upon writing this, I reali=
ze
that there is very little plot, and it is primarily an emotional piece. I
think you like it anyway because it's lacking all that **MUSH** and has s=
ome
substance.
FEEDBACK: The phrase here is 'of course.' I really love feedback. Send as
much as possible. Bubba, Snake, and Eugene are my biggest fans. They thin=
k
*everyone* should send feedback. We *know* you're reading this. Don't mak=
e
my biggest fans ruin their day (and yours) by making them
come after you.  Send it to: [e-mail]

*****

PART SIX OR THE EPILOGUE (it's your choice)

*****

After several non-successful attempts at finding Angel or Faith, Buffy wa=
s
exhausted once again.  It was three in the morning, and Buffy hadn't slep=
t
in over thirty-six hours.  She decided she would go home . . . but not
before she checked the mansion one more time.

She almost couldn't believe her eyes.  Bruised, broken, and bloody, Angel
was sprawled out across the couch in a heap. << Angel? >>

"Angel?" she whispered.

He stirred but didn't open his eyes.  Buffy walked over to the sofa and s=
unk
to her knees.  The marks of torture Trick had inflicted upon him were qui=
te
evident.  Buffy traced a long red mark on his chest. She noticed that not
only was Angel shades darker that usual, but his skin was red and peeling
like he had a severe sunburn. . . . << Sunburn? >>

Buffy didn't notice that Angel had opened his eyes at her nearness and wa=
s
watching her.

"What did she do to you?" Buffy whispered.

"I think she removed the clause," Angel answered softly.

"Angel!" Buffy said as she leapt to her feet.

She brushed her hands across the healing wounds, and Angel hissed in pain.

"Oh, God, Angel, I thought you were dead!"

Angel watched her nervously walk around the room in no particular pattern.
It was unnerving to see the Super Slayer so nervous.

"Why did you think I was dead?" Angel asked gently.

"=91Cause Xander . . . he said Faith asked him to help her kill you.  He =
saw
you and Faith kiss a couple of days ago!" Buffy said.

Angel would have looked disgusted, but he had the grace to look shocked.

"Kiss Faith?" Angel asked.

Buffy nodded numbly.  Angel got off the sofa, much to the dismay of his
muscles, and walked over to Buffy.  He was hesitant for barely a second
before he wrapped his arms around her tiny frame and sighed.

"I did *not* kiss Faith," Angel breathed into her hair.  "I don't love
Faith."

Buffy turned to him with vulnerability in her eyes.

"You love me?" Buffy asked.

Angel nodded and kissed her forehead.

"Angel=97" she said softly.  Then, she gained her senses.  "We=97 we can'=
t,
Angel. . . ."

Some of what Joyce had said finally sunk through his thick, preternatural
skull.  He wasn't about to just *let* Buffy go, not yet.

"Yes, we can," Angel said slowly.  "I=97 I was going to leave.  I couldn'=
t
stay here and not be with you," Angel confessed.  He felt Buffy tense
immediately and start to pull away.  He only held onto her tighter, thoug=
h
he knew if she really wanted to pull away, he wouldn't be able to stop he=
r.
"You trust your mother?"

Buffy nodded.  "What does that have to do with anything?"

"She said she got rid of the clause," Angel said.  "She said I could have=
 my
contentment."

Buffy relaxed and looked into the fire that always seemed to be going.
Angel looked over her shoulder as he entwined his arms around her waist.

"Stay with me?" Buffy asked before she could stop herself.

"Forever," Angel breathed into her hair.  "That's the whole point. I'll
never leave."

<< My dream! >> Buffy's mind screamed. << That's what he said. >> She wai=
ted
for the inevitable harsh words she was sure would come. << Not even if yo=
u
kill me. . . . >> They didn't.  She relaxed against him completely, watch=
ing
the fire.

Angel was amazed.  His senses were surrounded by her.  It had been so lon=
g
since he could truly appreciate feeling her completely.  He was acutely
aware of the worms crawling in the dirt and the moon moving across the sk=
y
and the fire's temperature changing slowly and of her deep, even breathin=
g.
She was sleeping, standing in his arms.

He wasn't entirely sure what exactly had been going on the past few days,
but he had a feeling the other Slayer and Joyce Summers had a lot to do w=
ith
it.  He wasn't quite sure what to do with Buffy. She looked exhausted, he=
r
muscles were strained and tired, she had dark circles under her eyes, and
her hair was a mess.  He was fairly certain she hadn't slept in days.

He wanted to keep her there and watch her sleep.  It might not go over wi=
th
her mother and friends. He owed Joyce quite a bit more than he owed most
people.  As a matter of fact, he owed quite a few people.  Willow for
restoring his soul.  Jenny for finding the spell.  Joyce for removing the
clause.  Giles for not ramming a stake through his heart as soon as he fo=
und
out he was alive.  Whistler for giving him a second chance.  Buffy.  Buff=
y
just simply because she was Buffy.  For loving him.  For letting him love
her. . . .

*****

It was about four o'clock when Joyce went in Buffy's room.  Purely out of
habit.  She did not expect to see her daughter laid in her bed, blankets
pulled up to her chin, her boots at the edge of the bed on the floor, a
glass of warming water on the night-stand, and her vampire boyfriend (she
hoped) sitting in a chair in the corner of the room.

<< Always the gentleman, huh, Angel? >> Joyce thought.

Angel opened his eyes ever so slightly, just to see what he reaction was.
He had resisted the urge to jump for joy when he realized he could once
again hear her heels hit the carpet of the first stair downstairs.  It
seemed his senses were back.

Joyce smiled just a little before she walked over to the bed and kissed h=
er
daughter on the forehead. She knew Angel was very much aware she was in
there.

"Angel," Joyce said softly.

Angel opened his eyes all the way.

"I know you probably want to know what has been happening that last coupl=
e
of days. . . ." Angel nodded.  "But, now is not the time for that." Angel
nodded again.  "Did you tell her what the ring meant?"
Angel shook his head.  "We were watching the fire.  She fell asleep stand=
ing
up against me," Angel said with the barest of smiles.

Joyce looked like she wanted to laugh, but held it in for her sleeping
daughter.  "In a hurry to get a son-in-law?"

"I'm like all mothers, Angel," Joyce said.  "They either don't wanna give
their babies up or want them married off to someone nice."

"Someone nice?" Angel asked with a raised eyebrow.

Joyce nodded.

"Accepting all this pretty well, aren't you?" Angel asked almost
suspiciously.

Joyce could barely contain her laughter.  "My daughter is a vampire Slaye=
r.
I live on a Hellmouth. Buffy's best friend is a witch.  Her boyfriend is =
a
werewolf.  I was sobering up a drunk vampire a few days ago.  My daughter
being half-married to a vampire seems fairly normal," Joyce said as she
walked away.

*****

<< Angel!!! >> every fiber of Buffy's body heralded.

It came out a soft whisper, "Angel. . . ."

Angel was at her side in a moment.  "Hey," he whispered.

"You're still here," Buffy said as if amazement.

Angel nodded.  She glanced at the window and noticed the blanket duct-tap=
ed
to the window frame. Buffy gave Angel a Look.  He held his hands up in
innocence.  "Faith and your mother," Angel said.

"Faith?" Buffy asked as confusion warded off the coldness.

*****

"I'd better go up first," Joyce said to the second Slayer.

Faith nodded in agreement.  Joyce had told Giles about what was going on
with Angel and Buffy.  He didn't really seem all that thrilled that Angel
was still alive, but Buffy wasn't going to kill Faith. So, that made it a=
ll
better.  Faith waited outside Buffy's door.  Joyce was going to walk righ=
t
in, but knocked instead.

"Come in," Buffy said with a hint of a giggle.

She found Angel perched in the chair beside Buffy's bed, and Buffy was
positioned against a pile of pillows sitting up.  Buffy smiled a weak,
nervous, and embarrassed smile.  Angel grinned.

"Hey," Buffy said.

"Hello, Buffy.  If Faith comes in, will you please try not to attack her?=
"
Joyce asked with a little teasing.

Buffy nodded.

*****

"You've been doing all this since when?" Buffy asked, shocked.

"Since I found out Cordelia was in the hospital, B," Faith said.  She
suddenly got quiet.  "I didn't mean to mess it up like that.  I didn't kn=
ow
Trick was going to kidnap Angel."

Angel nodded thoughtfully.  "I guess it's okay.  It all worked out for th=
e
best."

Buffy nodded happily, practically bouncing.  "Geez, Buff, take a Valium!"

Buffy rolled her eyes before grinning again.  Angel just observed this
silently for a moment, watching her nearly bounce off walls. << God, and =
she
isn't even out of bed. >> Angel thought.

"And you were in on this too, from the beginning?" Buffy asked her mother
pointedly.

"I was," Joyce said, smiling slyly at her daughter.  She looked over at
Angel.

By the time Joyce and Faith had told the entire story, it was sunset.
(Buffy hadn't had any sleep in two days, of course she didn't wake up unt=
il
very late.)  The Scooby gang had begged and pleaded with Misses Summers t=
o
let them come over, but Joyce denied their request.  Faith was in good wi=
th
Buffy *and* Angel, so everything was just fine there.  Normally, Buffy wo=
uld
have been quite upset with her mother and sister-Slayer, but she had Ange=
l,
and Angel had Buffy.  ((*Awww, isn't that sweet? . . . And so
predictable?*))

*****

Angel waited almost nervously for Buffy to come downstairs, and he was ve=
ry
glad that vampires did not have the circulation to blush, or he would hav=
e
been a very healthy red color from all the grinning Faith and Joyce were
doing at him.

Joyce convinced Angel and Buffy to go out for a walk while the Slayers' C=
o.
came to the house.  Rupert Giles (A.K.A. the Watcher) was still very ants=
y
around the vampire whose body had killed Jenny Calendar.  And, she certai=
nly
wasn't about to let Xander Harris anywhere *near* the immortal vampire.

Buffy arrived at the landing of the stairway dressed impeccably as always.
Angel lowered his eyes from his girlfriend, once again grateful for his
inability to blush.  She was smiling and sparkling brighter than any othe=
r
time he'd ever seen her.  When she got to the floor, Joyce grabbed her
shoulder and pushed her and Angel out the door.

"Mom?  What *are* you doing?" Buffy asked.

"Out.  Both of you.  I'd rather this house *not* turn into a war zone.
They'll be here soon, and you two should be gone.  Out," Buffy said.
Angel looked balefully at Joyce.

"You aren't getting out of it now.  Go!"

Angel looked at Faith.  She smirked and shrugged her shoulders.  The door
was quickly shut behind them and Faith could be heard practically cacklin=
g
in mirth.

*****

"Any ideas what that was about?" Buffy asked, breaking the silence as the
headed into the park.

"She wants me to ask . . . or tell . . . you something," Angel said
hesitantly.

"Tell me what?" Buffy asked as she gave Angel another Look.

"It's nothing, really.  I mean, it's really sort of silly. . . ." Angel
said, trailing off.

"I'll be the judge of what's silly.  Now, tell me what?" Buffy asked.

Angel muttered something unintelligible and glanced around the park with
embarrassment.  Even with Slayer super-hearing, she had no idea what Ange=
l
said.  Angel had faced demons and hellfire, but he was afraid to tell Buf=
fy
about the ring.  Buffy grabbed him by the arm and turned him to face her.

"Angel, what?" Buffy said with compassion and her trademark Slayer-attitu=
de.

"The Claddagh ring," Angel muttered, dropping his eyes away from her.

He looked over at Buffy and almost felt himself furiously blushing.  Buff=
y
looked down at the circle of silver, heart facing toward her, and back at
Angel.

"What about it?" Buffy asked.

"It means you belong to me," Angel said.  "It=97 it means, according to m=
y
people anyway, that we're=97 uh=97 we're married. . . . There!  I hope yo=
ur
mother is happy." he said, almost snarling.

"Married?!?! Really?" Buffy asked, shocked.

He nodded at Buffy slowly.

"You're married to me?  Does anyone else know?" Buffy asked.

Angel mistook her last statement as embarrassment or worry and turned awa=
y
from her, his profile  to her.

"Only your mother.  I don't think she's told Faith or *would* tell anyone
else," he said darkly.

Buffy was too far gone to notice his dark mood.  "How?  I mean . . . well=
=97
how?  =97And=97 and you *want* to be married to me?" Buffy asked, excitem=
ent
evident in her voice.

"According to my laws, anyway, since vampires can't give holy vows.  And=97
um=97 yeah, I *want* to be married to you," Angel said slowly.  "If you d=
o . .
. to me."

Buffy jumped up and kissed him on the lips happily.  Angel was shocked fo=
r
half a second before he gave into to her kiss and pulled her up.  She sto=
od
on her toes and deepened the kiss.  He held her tighter, reveling in her
happiness.

"Wow," she said as she broke the kiss.

"You're happy?" Angel asked somewhat shyly.

"Of course.  Wow!  It meant we were married.  Wow.  I'm married!  And, I
have been for nearly a year?!? Why didn't you tell me?!?"

"Sorry," Angel said sheepishly.  "I was a little predisposed."

Buffy nodded slowly.  "I guess you're right."

She grabbed Angel's hand an examined the ring, heart facing in.  Angel to=
ok
her hand in his and looked her in the eyes.

"Do you, Buffy Summers, vampire Slayer, Savior of the world, take me to b=
e
your lawfully wedded husband according to my traditions anyway, in sickne=
ss
and in health, not even parting in death?" Angel asked with a small smile.

"I do," Buffy said, kissing his ring.  "And do you, Angel, the only vampi=
re
with a soul, who got out of Hell, take me to be your lawfully wedded wife=
 in
sickness and in health, not even parting in death, and promise to love,
honor, cherish, and *obey*?" Buffy asked with a smile.

"That's not how it goes," Angel whispered.

Buffy raised an eyebrow.

"I do," Angel put in quickly as he kissed her ring.

((*Okay, so it was sappy.  Like I said, you don't like it, finish reading
this, and write your own fanfic.*))

"It's going to be hard," Angel said after a silent moment. "There's still=
 a
lot of stuff to death with."

Buffy nodded. "Yeah, Giles can't stand you. Xander can't stand you. I don=
't
know how they're gonna take all this," Buffy said.

"I don't mean just them.  I mean, well, you and me too. I did some horrib=
le
things to you. Even if you have forgiven me, I can't forget, and I don't
think you ever will either."

Buffy held him tighter.

"Yeah, but, at times like these, it hurts a lot less, and it doesn't even
seem real.   . . . Like it was just a dream," she said.


"I can't even really believe this is real. It's like someone is playing a
game with me," Angel said.

Buffy stopped and kissed him passionately, Angel, not even hesitating.  W=
hen
she pulled back, Angel looked at her amusedly through half-lidded eyes.

"It was a game, and my mom and sister Slayer played it. . . .  And, it wa=
s
and is *very* real. . . ." Buffy said.

Angel nodded his approval before he grabbed her waist, picked her up, and
brought her lips to his once more.

*****

"So, when Misses Summers got to the mansion, she told me Angel was passed
out in her jeep.  And, I carried him in," Faith said.

"We cast the spell, and there's not a clause on the curse anymore," Joyce
said.

"You shouldn't have attempted such a dangerous spell by yourselves.  Will=
ow
could barely handle it the first time.  And how do you know you, in fact,
removed the clause," Giles asked.

Joyce smiled.  "How dare you doubt the Slayer's mother?  We followed the
spell to the letter, and the rose quartz turned a purple color."

"That's why you came in to get that picture translated?" Willow asked.  "=
You
didn't have anything to do with them finding the cross in my room, did yo=
u?"

"No, no," Joyce said.  "It just worked out to my advantage."

"I knew it!" Cordy said, on the far side of the room, away from Xander.
Everyone looked over at Cordelia skeptically.  "When I found out Buffy
thought Faith had killed Angel, I knew it.  You came by my room earlier a=
nd
told me to lead Buffy's conversation toward them.  When I saw Buffy, I pu=
t
it all together!"

"Well, I never would have guessed.  You two did some awesome planning," O=
z
said.

"So, Angel can be happy now?  Where are he and Buffy?" Willow asked.

"Out walking," Faith said.

"I still don't trust him," Xander said.

"*I* don't care," Joyce said to the boy.  "When he dates your daughter, y=
ou
can rant and rave all you want!"

Xander was quickly silenced by the Slayer's mother's sharp tone.  Faith
*knew* that Xander Harris was getting his just desserts.

She thought she had never laughed quite so hard.  "Man, you guys are the
best!" she said.

******

THE END

*****








-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "mace" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "The Game Played" (3b/6) by Mace
Date: 13 Jan 1999 14:55:55 -0000

TITLE: The Game Played
AUTHOR: Mace
DISCLAIMER: I do not claim to be affiliated with Joss Whedon, Mutant Enem=
y,
the Warner Brothers, or Twentieth Century Fox. I do not own Buffy the
Vampire Slayer or related characters, topics, settings, or personalities.
All this is owned by those mentioned above. Avoid suing me. I would
appreciate it and so will you.
SUMMARY: Buffy/Angel with some Willow/Oz thrown into it. This takes place
after "Lover's Walk." Faith didn't like being used by her 'Watcher' or by
one Alexander Harris. She decided it was time other people got what they
wanted. With Cordelia in the hospital and Willow and Oz having their own
problems, Faith turns to the person who wants nothing but happiness for h=
er
daughter.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I realize some of this might be off-character. I can't yet
write for Faith or really Oz. I'll get better. Upon writing this, I reali=
ze
that there is very little plot, and it is primarily an emotional piece. I
think you like it anyway because it's lacking all that **MUSH** and has s=
ome
substance.
FEEDBACK: The phrase here is 'of course.' I really love feedback. Send as
much as possible. Bubba, Snake, and Eugene are my biggest fans. They thin=
k
*everyone* should send feedback. We *know* you're reading this. Don't mak=
e
my biggest fans ruin their clothes (and yours) by making them come after
you.  Send it to: [e-mail]

*****

Part 3b

*****

Angel was as startled by the question as he was the fact that someone was
there.  He sat there for a silent moment, looked the woman in the eyes, a=
nd
sighed.

"I=97 don't know how to answer that.  We=97 we *can't* see each other any=
more.
It couldn't work out.  I'm a vampire . . ."

". . .She's a Slayer.  If there was no clause in the curse, if none of th=
is
had ever happened.  You and Buffy had been living happily ever after sinc=
e
January.  Not knowing anything that happened in those six months, would y=
ou
marry her?" Joyce asked.

Angel held up his silver Claddagh ring that glinted in the moon light,
heart, pointing toward him.  Joyce admired the intricate craftsmanship of
the *very* antique ring.  She looked at Angel, a question in her eyes.

"The hands stand for loyalty, the crown stands for loyalty, and the
heart=97stands for=97 love.  You wear the heart pointing towards you, and=
 it
means you belong to someone." Angel closed his eyes.  "It was a wedding b=
and
in my time.  I *couldn't* marry her legally in a church.  I *can't* make
holy vows in front of a minister," Angel said. "I never got a chance to t=
ell
her. I wanted to at the docks, but I thought it would be harder to leave.
After that . . ."

Joyce breathed a shaky breath.

"In your mind, you're already married to her," Joyce said. << I wish I co=
uld
have found someone that romantic. >>

"Was," Angel corrected.

"If you love her so much, you're willing to just let go of her?" Joyce as=
ked
as she got off the bench.

Angel followed her, surveying the area for any threats.

"I love her enough to let her fly free if she wants it.  I'll never own h=
er
completely, and I wouldn't want to.  I love her enough to let her go," An=
gel
said.

Joyce stepped into the car.

"You don't want a ride?" she asked.

"I'll walk," Angel said.  "I want some time to think."

"You love my seventeen-year-old daughter enough to let her free, Angel.  =
But
what if she couldn't come back?  What if she needed help?  What if she br=
oke
a wing?"

"It was my hand that threw the stone, then," Angel said.

"Then fix your mistake.  Don't leave a broken girl for someone else to pu=
t
back together.  She'll never be truly healed unless *you* do something ab=
out
it," Joyce said.

"I've already done enough," Angel argued.

"Whose decision is that to make?  You'll have done enough when she no lon=
ger
has black marks under her eyes and can make it through the day without
feeling lonely," Joyce said.

"It's not my job anymore," Angel said despondently.

"Then whose is it, Angel?" Joyce asked, getting the angry-mother-face on.

"I dunno.  Scott's?" Angel asked.

"Buffy and Scott broke up," Joyce said.

Angel looked genuinely shocked.

"Why?  Is she okay about it?" Angel asked.

"He broke up with her because he wanted what Buffy couldn't give: a happy=
,
perky girl with no problems or responsibilities.  He wanted to go out wit=
h a
kid," Joyce said.

"She *is* just a kid," Angel said.

"No, Angel, she's not.  I told you.  The world killed her innocence.  It
made her into a vampire Slayer and taught her that she had to be afraid.
She was a scared child.  You took the child, fell in love with her, gave =
her
comfort, and convinced her she didn't have to afraid.  She isn't a child
anymore," Joyce said.

Angel paused, not sure how to counter the clever woman's argument.   It
struck him as odd that she ought to be trying to rip his hair out, and,
instead, she was trying to pair him up with her daughter. It almost seeme=
d
like something out of his childhood.

"Why are you so anxious to have us back together?  I figured you'd come
after me with a flaming stake," Angel said as he narrowed his eyes.

She *still* sounded like an eighteenth century mother trying to make an
advantageous marriage.  Angel nearly shiver in disgust.  He would have, h=
ad
it not been so absurd and humorous.

"The only thing worse than a scared child is a terrified woman.  That's w=
hat
she is.  She's alone now with no one to fight the evil with.  Her friends=
,
Faith, Rupert, even I don't see it.  I don't really know what's out there=
. I
know to be afraid, I just don't know why," Joyce said.  "You do, and you
understand it."

And, with that parting shot, Joyce drove away.  She left the vampire to f=
end
for himself against the darkness. . . .

*****

"Mom?  Is that you?" Buffy called as Joyce came in.

"Buffy?  I thought you'd be out patrolling," Joyce said.

"I was.  I got finished.  I was worried.  You're okay?" Buffy asked.

"I'm fine, Buffy," Joyce said.

"Where were you?" Buffy asked.

"Nowhere," Joyce said.

"Mom?  That's not a good thing to say when you live on a Hellmouth and yo=
ur
daughter's the Slayer," Buffy said nervously.

"I=97 I was Christmas shopping.  I didn't think you'd be home so . . ."

"Christmas shopping?!? What'd you get me?" Buffy asked.

"It's a surprise," Joyce said with a faint smile.

"Oh=97 please?" Buffy asked, batting her eyelashes.

"Go upstairs, Buffy," Joyce said good-naturedly.

When Joyce heard her daughter's door slam, she ran to the phone and diale=
d
the number she was getting to know very well.

"It's Joyce.  Did you do it?  . . .Yeah, I'm not sure. . . .  Are you sur=
e
he heard you? . . .Absolutely?  . . .Okay, yeah.  I don't think he's quit=
e
ready, yet, but he's close.  Go to the next step tomorrow . . .  Bye,
Faith," Joyce said.

*****

When Angel arrived at Buffy's window, there was no mother watching over h=
er.

He wasn't entirely sure of Joyce's motives, but he knew she didn't
understand.  Joyce had only seen the tip of the iceberg.  She didn't know
how far he had gone when the demon was in charge of his body.  She didn't
know how hard it was to resist her.

She was laid across the bed in all her teenage glory, the moonlight
spreading across her bright hair. He could hear the steady thud of her
heartbeat and the whoosh of air in and out of her lungs.  Her  hands were
twisting the covers around, and her eyes were twitching.  He knew she was
having a nightmare.  Her heart rate and breathing caught up with her drea=
m.

He stepped out of the shadows and sat on the edge of her bed.  He gathere=
d
her up in his arms and gently rocked the sleeping girl.  She seemed to re=
lax
a little bit, but he knew the images were still present.

"Sh=97 Buffy.  It's okay.  Sh=97 everything's fine," Angel whispered.

She whimpered a little before practically limp.  He got off her bed and
stepped into the shadows behind her.  No sooner than she had been laid ba=
ck
down did she sit up quickly.

"Angel?" she asked with wide eyes.  "Angel?"

Angel didn't dare move.  She surveyed the room as he melted further into =
the
darkness.

"Angel?!?" she asked again.

She put her hands to her face and ran her fingers through her hair.  Ange=
l
watched her shoulders shake.  He wanted to comfort her, to step out of th=
e
shadows and kiss her hair, but he was afraid of what she would say. << Wh=
y
is she calling for you, then? >> Angel asked himself. << She probably fel=
t
me and is wondering why. >> Right.

She grabbed the glass of water on her night stand and drank all the water=
,
and she seemed to calm down.  She practically fell back in bed.  When her
slow even breathing signaled she was asleep, Angel grabbed the glass, ris=
ked
going downstairs, filled it with ice and water, and put it back in her ro=
om.

<< If I can't be near her, at least I can offer her some comfort, >> he
thought.  The strange thing about his reasoning was that he wasn't more t=
han
four feet away from her.

*****

END PART THREE

*****





-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Broken Bonds (Part 11)
Date: 13 Jan 1999 16:13:01 -0500

Title: Broken Bonds (Part 11)
Author: Northlight
email: [e-mail]
Summary: Giles disappears and bad things start to happen.
Disclaimer:  What isn't mine belongs to Joss Whedon.
Notes:  Thanks to all who requested more!  Without your replies, this
story would have stayed dead :)
Buffyfic people, if you can't remember what happened before, go to
"http://www.geocities.com/~northlight/buffy.html"


    Being out at night, Slayerless, was not the most intelligent thing
which Rupert Giles had ever attempted.  Unfortunately, his Slayer was
tied up with a man who set Giles' teeth on edge and who wasn't the most
trustworthy of individuals.

    Giles tried not to wince at the thought of the mess he was embroiled in
as he crept through the park, cross in hand.  Along with a wad of cash,
it had been the only thing he'd had the time to grab before the door to
his recently acquired motel room had been busted down.

    Not only had they scared him tremendously, but his 'visitors' had also
left him without protection from Sunnydale's demons.  'They're probably
hoping that some vampire takes care of their problem for them!' Giles
thought, jumping in surprise when his own foot snapped a twig.

    He couldn't go back to Simon.  The fact that he'd been found once
already after Simon had found a room for him implied that someone had
gotten to the other man.  Once again, Giles felt a stab of guilt for
drawing Simon into something which he'd spent years attempting to
distance himself from.

    "Giles!" the voice sent him swirling around, one hand brandishing the
cross, the other clutching at a stake.  His eyes widened with relief
when they focused on the familiar sight of Angel's face.

    "Thank God..." Giles gasped, his hand abandoning it's search for a
stake.  The cross was tucked back into his coat pocked and Giles rubbed
at his bloodshot eyes wearily.

    Angel took in the Watcher's less than immaculate appearance, and his
concern skyrocketed.  "Where have you been?" he demanded, worry
colouring his low voice.  "Buffy has been frantic with worry!"

    Giles' drooping head shot up at the mention of his Slayer.  "Buffy!  Is
she well?"

    "She's worried.  And angry," Angel told the weary Watcher, remembering
Buffy's less than receptive feelings for Tyler.

    Giles' lips quirked upwards, almost as if he knew exactly what Angel
was speaking of.  'I wonder how Tyler's enjoying his sparring sessions
with Buffy?'  Shaking off his irrelevant thoughts, Giles drew his
attention back to the matters at hand.  "I need someplace safe to stay
tonight.  And I need you to inform Buffy of what's happening."

    Angel nodded.  "You can stay with me.  Nobody knows where my apartment
is."

    "Thank you," Giles nodded, relief in his voice.  "Now why don't we move
along before a vampire _does_ finish me off?"

***

    "So this is the Hellmouth," Gwendolyn Post said, a predatory smile on
her thin lips.  "How very... _quaint_."  She looked down at the large,
unwieldy looking metal glove encasing her right hand, and her smile grew
wider.

    She'd only had this particular toy for a week or so, but she'd learned
to use it well enough in that time to recognize the spike of power
running through it.  That was quite apparently the Hellmouth's doing.
For that, she could forgive the town it's less than impressive motel
accommodations.

    Alain looked away from the papers he'd been shuffling through at the
sound of Ms. Post's voice.  "He has a list," the young man said,
nervously watching the twitching fingers of the glove.  He would have
protested Gwendolyn's acquisition of one of the more powerful objects,
but the last man who had done so had been on the receiving end of a well
aimed lightning bolt.

    The woman's eyes narrowed, but the harsh grin remained firmly in
place.  "It won't do him much good, will it?  Mr. Giles is outnumbered
and outgunned.  He can run all he wants and make plan after desperate
plan, but the truth is, he's already lost."

    She laughed, and the glove continued to twitch.

***

    Giles paced around Angel's apartment, his agitation growing as he told
the vampire of the events which had driven him away from his Slayer and
into hiding.  "Within the last hundred years," Giles began in his best
lecture voice, "a rift formed among the Watcher's Council."

    Angel nodded mutely, otherwise perfectly still while he waited for
Giles to continue.

    "Some believed that we should continue as we have been doing for as
long as our organization has existed.  Others believe that we should use
the magical artifacts we have gathered over the centuries.  These
beliefs had manifested themselves as debates, and I had thought that
they would remain as such.  But recently, the more active faction of the
latter group began to _act_ on these ideas."

    "How so?" Angel asked.  "Does their position on this matter truly make
them that dangerous?"

    Giles nodded, "very much so.  Most of these artifacts were created for
the purpose of evil.  Such power cannot help but corrupt those who wield
it..."  Giles grimaced.  "They have the knowledge and the power to shape
the world as they see fit."

    "Where does Tyler fit into this?"

    Giles shrugged helplessly.  "I just don't know."

***

    The dream was the same as always, except... _worse_.  She stood, wide
eyed, her boots stained red with the blood she was forced to wade
through.  Fire raged around her, lapping closer to her.  She could feel
it's heat against her body, but still could not make herself move.

    Her senses screamed at her in warning as the vampires surged past her.
They brushed right against her body, and still she remained rooted to
the ground.

    The vision that finally broke her unmoving stance was the sight of
Giles, tumbling down and down into the darkness, his wide, empty eyes
staring straight at her.

    As Buffy woke, struggling for air, a single word shot through her
horrified mind.

     '_Soon_.'


~End Part 11~



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "mace" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "The Game Played" (3a/6) by Mace
Date: 13 Jan 1999 21:19:10 -0000

Yes, this is part 3a.  I'm sorry, but I've been experiencing technical
difficulties (I'm sick) all day.  I can't think straight, and I only deci=
ded
to post this because I couldn't sleep anymore.  Sorry for all the hassle.

TITLE: The Game Played
AUTHOR: Mace
DISCLAIMER: I do not claim to be affiliated with Joss Whedon, Mutant Enem=
y,
the Warner Brothers, or Twentieth Century Fox. I do not own Buffy the
Vampire Slayer or related characters, topics, settings, or personalities.
All this is owned by those mentioned above. Avoid suing me. I would
appreciate it and so will you.
SUMMARY: Buffy/Angel with some Willow/Oz thrown into it. This takes place
after "Lover's Walk." Faith didn't like being used by her 'Watcher' or by
one Alexander Harris. She decided it was time other people got what they
wanted. With Cordelia in the hospital and Willow and Oz having their own
problems, Faith turns to the person who wants nothing but happiness for h=
er
daughter.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I realize some of this might be off-character. I can't yet
write for Faith or really Oz. I'll get better. Upon writing this, I reali=
ze
that there is very little plot, and it is primarily an emotional piece. I
think you like it anyway because it's lacking all that **MUSH** and has s=
ome
substance.
FEEDBACK: The phrase here is 'of course.' I really love feedback. Send as
much as possible. Bubba, Snake, and Eugene are my biggest fans. They thin=
k
*everyone* should send feedback. We *know* you're reading this. Don't mak=
e
my biggest fans ruin their clothes (and yours) by making them come after
you.  Send it to: [e-mail]

*****

PART THREE

*****

"So . . ." Joyce said.

"This=97 this wasn't a good idea," Angel murmured.

Angel turned around and startled to walk away. << No!  You can't leave!
Faith isn't finished yet! >> Joyce thought.

"Fine," Joyce said, an evil smirk gracing her face, "but if a vampire kil=
ls
me, it'll be *your* fault."

Angel turned around and glared at the completely frustrating woman. He
suddenly knew where Buffy got her stubbornness.

"Okay, so what do you want to hear?" Angel acquiesced.

"I guess I know how you lost your soul," Joyce said.

She could have sworn she saw the vampire blush.

"I want to know how you actually *got* to Sunnydale, why you came here, a=
nd
everything that lead up to the actual . . . losing of your soul," Joyce
said.

Angel sighed.

"In 1898, I killed a gypsy girl, the Elders of her tribe found the perfec=
t
punishment.  They restored my soul," Angel said.

"They were out of boils and blinding torment?" Joyce asked.

Angel couldn't help but smile.

"I lived in Europe for about twenty years before the war got really bad, =
and
I went to America.  I went, like so many . . . immigrants . . . to New
York," Angel said.

"Where are you originally from?" Joyce asked.

"Galway, Ireland.  Darla sired me in 1753," Angel said.

"Darla?  The girl that attacked me in my house made you into a vampire?!?=
"
Joyce asked.

Angel could only nod.

"How old were you?" Joyce asked with a sickening feeling in her stomach.

"Twenty-two," Angel answered.

"So, you're about five years older than Buffy?"

"Joyce, I'm two-hundred-forty five.  I'm two-hundred-twenty-eight-years
older than Buffy," Angel said severely.

"What about the time you were human?"

"It doesn't really count.  That person is dead," Angel said.  "I was
twenty-two, and my life was over.  I deserved it.  I was drunk all the ti=
me,
stole from my pig of a father, and visited the=97 uh=97 local establishme=
nts,"
Angel said.

"No one deserves to have lived through that," Joyce said softly.

"I don't want any pity.  If you had seen it, you wouldn't have been offer=
ing
me comfort, Joyce.  It's my own fault for being drunk, stupid, and unawar=
e,"
Angel said.

She was tired of listening to the immortal << Immortal . . . >> vampire p=
ut
himself down and was anxious to see what happened to him.  So . . .

"You were in New York?" Joyce prompted.

"Yes, ma'am, New York.  I lived on the streets, avoiding any contact with
any human beings, living off rats and other vermin that infested the city.
I lost my Irish accent and gained this one from New York, primarily
Manhattan," Angel said.

"It was 1996 before I really spoke to anyone.  A demon name Whistler, a g=
ood
demon=97 or something close to it=97 convinced me to go to Los Angeles.  =
He
showed me Buffy.  Most Slayers are trained from birth or close to it.  I
knew she would have a hard time if she hadn't been training since she was
little.  I watched her for a little while.  She was just so confused=97 I
started to care again.  I didn't want to care=97 especially about a vampi=
re
Slayer, but I did.

"I was weak, and Whistler trained me, got me in shape.  I met Buffy for t=
he
first time in an alleyway outside the Bronze.  She didn't know I'd been
watching her since she lived in L.A., and she still doesn't.  When I met
her, I pretty much acted like an arrogant jerk.  I delivered a couple of
cryptic messages . . ."

And Angel continued to relate the story. . . .

*****

Later that night . . .

"So you spent three months in Hell?" Joyce asked.

"It turned out to be about one-hundred-years.  The time is different in H=
ell
than it is here," Angel said.

Joyce was intrigued and terrified at the same time.

"What was it like?"

Joyce could almost feel the air change.  Angel tensed and seemed to shake=
 a
little bit.  He sat down on a bench and looked up at the woman.  She seem=
ed
to ooze maternal instinct.

"It was bad?" Joyce asked as she sat down.

"It was Hell," Angel said.  "I don't remember what it looks like, but I
remember the pain and the screams and the torment, not just mine.  Everyo=
ne
else's too.  It was almost a tangent thing, and I was still alive . . . o=
r
not just a soul," Angel said softly.

"How did you get out?" Joyce asked.

Angel looked at the woman with tear-filled eyes.  "A miracle?  I don't kn=
ow.
I was just back, insane, but back."

"Insane?"

Angel looked like he would have blushed.  "I=97 I couldn't handle the
memories, the pain.  I shut down."

"How did you get your sanity back?"

Angel looked at the woman.  She knew more about him than every Watcher di=
ary
ever written, more than anyone except maybe Whistler.

"This . . . thing.  It attacked Buffy, and I knew." Angel frowned. << Yea=
h,
sound like a psychopath to the lady. >> "Buffy=97 she had me changed up i=
n the
mansion so I would hurt anyone or myself. I knew there was something wron=
g,
so I broke free.  He was attacking Buffy, and I . . ." he trailed off,
embarrassed.

"You what?"

Joyce already knew what he was going to say, but she wanted to hear it.
Listening to Angel talk was enthralling.  He leaned back on the bench.

"I killed him.  All I knew was that it was trying to hurt her.  She was t=
he
only thing I think I half-way remembered.  I remembered bits and pieces o=
f
memories, that I'd hurt her.  I didn't want her to come near me, in case,=
 I
hurt her. I remembered her, and I didn't want him to hurt her.  I killed
him, and, suddenly, it's like this fog was lifted.  I remembered everythi=
ng.
I wanted to scream, and all I said was her name," Angel said.

Joyce knew he wasn't talking to her anymore.  He was talking to himself a=
nd
to Buffy.  She admired the pale countenance of her daughter's love.  He
looked just like what he was, a man in love.  She supposed it wasn't
unnatural for Angel to be in love with Buffy.  In his time, she was the
right age to be married off or even have a child. << Married? >> she
wondered. << *Would* he marry her? >>

"*Would* you marry her?" Joyce asked.

*****

End Part 3a

*****





-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: Katie Malone <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: DISCUSS: New Fiction List (Repost)
Date: 14 Jan 1999 23:25:21 -0600

I'm not sure if this came through, so here it is again:



It looks like everyone has the fate of the discussion list well under
control, but I haven't seen much talk about that of the fiction list.

As assistant admin of an already existing Buffy fiction list on xmission
(erotica only, sorry minors), the other admin and I decided to create a
"sister" list.  The new list will hopefully fill the vacuum created by the
departure of this list (that is, for the posting of Gen Buffy fic).  It is
aptly named BUFFYFIC2 and will also be hosted out of xmission:
[e-mail].  The new list is ready to go.

Anyone interested in subscribing should send email to
[e-mail] with the command: s*bscribe buffyfic2

I know I'm going to miss this list, but perhaps with the new list there
won't be too much interruption in service.



     Katie Malone
     [e-mail]



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Can't Hide the Past (4b/?)
Date: 15 Jan 1999 01:14:44 EST

Title: Can't Hide the Past
Author: Shadows
E-mail: [e-mail]
Feedback: Please?
Rating: PG-13 to R
Disclaimer: Characters seen on the Idiot Box belong to Joss Whedon & the WB
Distribution: Just ask for permission
Summary: 15 years after my own season 3 finale, the characters of BtVS find
themselves thrown back together under unusual circumstances.
Note: The last episode that I have seen is "Amends". I will follow the show
from up to there, and then it's my playground.

*****

    "Okay . . . what exactly is going on here?"

    This was definitely not his balcony, not his house, and not even *Mexico*.
Or, maybe, it was. Just an underground part.

    This place was dark and gray and full of dust. As Oz ran his long, thin
fingers across the wall, the plaster crumbled at the touch of his fingertips.
The whole place was rotting away, and a distinct smell was in the air . . .
matchsticks? Yes, but faintly. Old, used matchsticks, and the fire that
resulted from it.

    But this was not the only familiar smell. Oz, using his werewolf sense of
smell, could detect the residual emotions left in this place, just like Willow
could use her empathy to know who was the last owner of whatever she held in
her hand. He could smell, in this small hole that he was, he could smell fear,
panic, a tang of death, betrayal, and remorse. Pretty powerful smell for such
a small place, and such a strong imprint.

    Then Oz smelled something else. "Willow?" he whispered aloud, noticing her
scent on the dead air. There was no answer, for the scent was stale. Stale and
old, and strange, yet familiar. Something was up.

    Up . . . Oz walked over to where he saw a hole in the ceiling, and looked up.
Through the jagged opening he could see another ceiling, not too far away, and
the faint outline of stairs. He was under the stairs. Plaster cracked under
his feet as he stood on tiptoe and tried to peer over the hole, in case there
was something there to surprise him that had the ability to trick him. But
there was no one there that he could see. He would have to take a risk.

    He was just about to spring up there when he heard a shriek from behind, and
he jumped right out of the hole without even thinking. He caught his left foot
on a sharp edge of the hole, and he fell flat on his face. Getting up on his
elbows, he dragged himself up to his knees and crawled as close as he could to
the hole.

    He looked down, and as soon as he saw who had shrieked, dropped back into the
hole.

*****

    She was just going to tell Xander about a doodling Annie had done the other
day (she had drawn a wonderful picture of the whole family that was so
lovingly detailed for a three-year-old) when she felt his hand grow icy. Now,
it was cold outside, with it having snowed only a morning ago, but one of
things that she loved about Xander was that he was always warm, no matter what
temperature. She had turned from looking at the stores on the other side of
the road to tell Xander to put on his gloves when she noticed that he had
disappeared, and that she was lying down on the ground with a tremendous
headache.

    Cordelia blinked and stretched her face, trying to lift her head off of the
floor. Her hair had come undone from its high, fancy bun, and the shoulder-
length chocolate-colored strands stuck to her scalp in sweat. She reached a
hand up to the back of her head to see if there was blood, if she had hit
anything.

    When she felt no dampness, she lay her head back down and turned to the
right. She found herself staring at her rusty reflection.

    "Wha . . ." Cordelia started, propping herself up on her elbows quickly. The
blood rushed to her head, either of the sudden change in position or because
of the sudden fright that overtook her. As she stared at the pole in front of
her, the pole that still had dried blood in all the right places, she
shrieked.

*****

    "Cordelia, it's me, Oz!" he called as he slid down underneath the stairs.
Cordelia was sobbing now, and as soon as Oz came near her she attached herself
firmly to his body. "Oh God," she mumbled, burying her head in his shoulder.
Oz, glad that she didn't question what he was doing here or where here was,
wrapped his arms around her and hummed soothingly, something he did when
Willow got like this.

    "It's ok, it's ok . . ." he sang softly. He wondered about Willow, but right
now he had to worry about Cordelia. "What made you scream?"

    Cordelia pulled back from him and looked at him. Her body language and
expression read "stunned." "That," she said, turning around and pointed with
one shaking finger towards the pole in the center of the room. "That pole. I
was . . . impaled on that pole. I . . ." She didn't finish her sentence, just
stared at the pole in silence.

    Oz looked at it. He couldn't smell the blood, and that worried him. Maybe it
was all the dust in the room. But then a bigger worry hit him.

    "We're in the factory," he said, surprised the words were even leaving his
mouth. He thought it wouldn't work, considering the total chaos his mind was
currently undergoing.

    "The factory?" Cordelia asked, her voice thick because her tongue only moved
slightly. "But how the . . . I mean, is it . . . what's going on, Oz?" she
asked. "What am I *doing* here." She turned towards him, her eyes dancing in
fright. "What are *you* doing here? How, why did we get here?"

    "I don't know," Oz answered truthfully, "but I think that if we go up
*there*," he pointed to the hole's opening, "then we might find out."

    "But the factory is in Sunnydale," Cordelia said, her voice a soft panic.
"And you know how Sunnydale is. Five seconds outside and we're the victims of
a vampire suckfest. Uh-huh." She shook her head fiercely, and the strands of
her hair flew free from her scalp. "I'd rather stay here."

    "Would you like me to go up there or do you want me to stay up here?" Oz
asked, walking over to Cordelia and putting an arm on her shoulder. Cordelia
raised her hand to meet his, and they smiled at each other. Oz was so sweet
and considerate, and she was happy that he and Willow had gotten back together
and everything. Back together even after that pushing-everybody-away thing she
went through after Sunnydale had gone down in ashes.

    "I don't know," Cordelia said, tightening her hold on his hand. "But you're
the one with the super-hyped senses. You tell me, wolf-guy."


*****


    Oz was in the front seat, hands gripped tightly on the steering wheel, which
had become slipping from his sweat. Next to him, in the other front seat,
Willow said with her hands in her lap and staring at the window. Each of them
were to uncomfortable to look at each other, much less sneak some looks in
their general direction. The fact that Oz was called the Factory the place he
most hated weighed incredible guilt on Willow's part and unpleasant memories
on Oz's part. And he thought he had gotten over the whole jealous-of-Xander
thing, and then Willow had to turn around and go do *that* with Xander. Oz
sighed outloud.

    "Are we there yet?" F-Xander called from the back, where he was scrunched up
against a stack of old records, covered in black cloth and some stale Dorito
chips Oz had eaten back there and forgotten to clean up. Next to him sat his
younger self, who kept staring at his older self. F-Xander tried to ignore
him.

    "Almost," Oz answered in an odd voice. Willow shifted in her seat and stared
out the window a little bit harder.

    "You sound like an impatient little kid," F-Willow told him, her voice clear
in Oz's ear because she was propped up against his seat. Next to her sat
Buffy, who had come along in case any vampire activity showed up. "Are you
*that* anxious to get there?"

    "No," F-Xander said with all seriousness. "You know what happened there."

    Willow frowned. "Hmm," she grumbled, musing over something.

    There was a pause, and then F-Xander turned towards Xander. "So what's up?"
he asked, not wanting to make F-Willow feel too uncomfortable.

    Xander looked back at him, his gaze not wavering. "You mean you don't know?"
he asked, his voice a bit icy.

    F-Xander shrugged. "I suppose I do," he said, then look at F-Willow. "Guess I
forgot."

    F-Willow leaned towards her younger self and stage-whispered, "He's
forgetting things because he's getting old." Then she giggled and wiggled her
eyebrows at F-Xander.

    "I am not old!" F-Xander said indignantly. He looked around, and as he
knocked his shoulder on the stack of old records, the few Doritos fell in his
lap. He picked one up and threw it at F-Willow. "Am not."

    "Are too!" F-Willow shot back, and then bent over to pick up the chip, which
had landed at her feet. She gathered it with her fingers and then threw it at
F-Xander, hitting his stomach. "You are *so* old. You can't even hit me!"

    She was answered by a Dorito right between the eyes. "Am not."

    "Are too!" Dorito to the chest.

    "Not!" Dorito to the chest, sliding into the bodice of her nightgown.
Laughter. "I do have good aim, don't I?"

    At that comment, F-Willow extended her leg and kicked F-Xander's foot "Say
that in front of Oz, and he'll beat you up," she warned playfully, settling
back into her seat. F-Xander put on an expression of mock horror.

    {I'd better} Oz thought angrily, and then realized that they were in front of
the Factory. His foot slammed down on the brake pedal, and all of the van's
occupants lurched forward.

    "What was that?" Buffy demanded angrily. Something that once was a hat had
slid off F-Xander's stack and landed on her head. She peeled it off and put it
on the floor next to her. Oz didn't turn around, just turned the key and off
went the engine. He climbed out of the car, muttering "Sorry" loud enough for
them to hear.

    "That was wrong," F-Xander said as everyone else stayed in the van. "That
*felt* wrong." F-Willow threw another Dorito at him, giggled that he had
better shape up, and then crawled across the van to open the doors.

    As the van door opened and everyone tumbled out, Oz went around back for a
moment to collect himself. Sure, he felt emotions, just like any other human
being did. But he was *not* good at showing them, or more close to the target,
he was afraid of showing them. Like that little scene just now in the van,
when he had slammed down on the brakes in anger. What if someone had gotten
hurt? What if *Willow* had gotten hurt?

    {I wish Xander would get hurt. I wish I could hurt him as bad as he hurt me.
I hope he never sees Cordelia again, because he deserves to be without her. He
deserves to be alone. Now that would hurt him.}

    "Oz?" He turned around to see Willow right next to him. Her voice was
quavering. "can we talk?"

    "Uh, is there time?" Oz asked. On the other side of the van, someone was
slamming the doors shut again.

    "Short talk," Willow assured him. Then she averted her eyes, settling on the
ground. "So this is the spot you most hate?" she asked softly, half-knowing
the answer Oz would give her.

    "Well, we'd, uh, have to go inside and see." Oz could see that the answer
didn't cut it for her. "Look, Willow, I'm not hating you. I mean, I could
never hate you. 'Cause your . . . well, your Willow, and I love you.

    "But, I do hate Xander, and I hate what you did. That hurt me a *lot*. I
mean, I've liked girls before, but I've never *loved* a girl, and I *know*
that's what you I feel for you. Love, is what I feel for you." She was looking
into his eyes again, and now Oz had to push his away. "And I thought you loved
me back, but I'm thinking . . . that while you were cheating with Xander, and
I told you I loved you, and you said it back to me . . . I'm wondering if you
meant it. 'Cause for all I know, you were telling the same thing to Xander.
And the way you two were on that bed." He drew in a sharp breath. "You guys
must've said that to each other already."

    When he looked back, Willow's eyes were brimming with tears. "I do love you,
Oz," she said quietly, "and I keep kicking myself over the head for doing what
I did with Xander. And I can't believe I had the *nerve* to stand like that
and tell you I love you while I was . . . cheating on you. But I know why I
did that." She waited until Oz lifted his head up to continue. "I did that
because I love you, with all my heart and soul and . . . you know, that other
stuff that people say when they're in love. And I thought I had that with
Xander-for such a long time-until you came and showed me what love was really
all about." She gave a little smile. "And you hear what I said. It seems that
we kind of worked things out."

    Oz didn't smile just yet, but he relaxed. "Yeah, I guess so." Then he let out
that sharp breath he had taken. "You know what, Willow? I love you."

    Willow beamed. "I love you too, Oz." And she meant it with all her heart and
soul and . . . that other stuff.

    Now he smiled.

    "Hey, lovebirds?" They turned around to see Buffy standing there. "Um, Xander
and Willow-I guess-are waiting out there for you guys to wrap it up." Her
mouth made one straight line, a sign that meant she was in a hurry. She knew
that once they got Oz, they would have to look for Cordelia next. And then,
last but not least . . . herself.

    Creepy.

    "O-ok," Willow said, nodding her head. "We're there." Oz reached out for her
hand, and she took it. Together they followed Buffy out into the open.

    F-Xander and F-Willow were engrossed in an argument: F-Xander was holding
tightly onto her arm and Willow was struggling to get out of his tight grip.
"Let me *go*, Xander!" she was telling him. "Somebody's got to go in there."

    "Not you. Don't you remember the last time somebody was in there? That person
got impaled."

    "Oh ho, I remember that being under some different circumstances," F-Willow
said, arching her eyebrows and rising on tiptoe so that she looked taller.
"I'm not going to run out of there because I caught my boyfriend cheating with
his best friend."

    "You know, I seem to remember you being a crucial part in that little fix
too."

    "Oh yeah, well, you were a bigger part then me!"

    "Oh really? How so?"

    Willow made an arrogant "hmmf" sound. She made goo-goo eyes at Xander and
made her voice sound young and sing-song. "That we're old, old friends. Just
very good friends who like to hang out, and can I kiss your earlobe?" Both of
them set their jaws at the same time, looking like they were gonna claw each
other's eyes out.

    F-Xander stood his ground. "You're still not going in there."

    "Well then, Mr. Caution Man, since it's so dangerous, who are you gonna send
in there?"

    "I dunno, little Ms. Resort-to-the-Black-Arts. How about Buffy?" F-Xander
suggested, the slightest hint of cruelty evident in his voice.

    Willow's eyes widened and she made an "ah!" sound. "Well, aren't we the
little hypocrite," she started sharply, ready to launch into a lecture.

    Xander and Willow exchanged nervous glances. "Uh," Willow the peacemaker
started, but she was cut off by a sudden, familiar shout of:

    "So this is *Willow's* fault? Why does everything that happens to me in this
Factory has to be because of *Willow*!"

    F-Xander and F-Willow looked at each other, understanding passing between
them, and they both ran into the Factory at once.

    "*Finally*," Xander sighed as he and the rest of the gang followed close
behind.



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Can't Hide the Past (4a/?)
Date: 15 Jan 1999 01:53:44 EST

Title: Can't Hide the Past
Author: Shadows
E-mail: [e-mail]
Feedback: Please?
Rating: PG-13 to R
Disclaimer: Characters seen on the Idiot Box belong to Joss Whedon & the WB
Distribution: Just ask for permission
Summary: 15 years after my own season 3 finale, the characters of BtVS find
themselves thrown back together under unusual circumstances.
Note: The last episode that I have seen is "Amends". I will follow the show
from up to there, and then it's my playground.

*****

    Buffy watched as F-Faith suddenly turned around and realized that Angel was
in the room. In a blur of motion, F-Faith suddenly had Angel pinned up against
the wall, and pulled another stake out of seemingly thin-air. Muttering
something to him, she pulled back her arm and prepared to plunge it in his
heart.

    Uh-uh, not while Buffy was still in the room. Hurrying to her ex's defense,
she ripped F-Faith off of Angel before she could get the job done. Both of
them tumbled to the ground, but F-Faith put her leg under Buffy's, and the
present slayer fell to the floor, hard. F-Faith did a bellyroll and then sat
on top of Buffy, grabbing her by the collar and then leering in her face.

    "What, are you an idiot," she growled. "Are you still trying to protect your
damned little boyfriend. I don't know who I should kill first, him or-"

    "-no one," F-Xander finished up for her and he nudged F-Faith with the toe of
his shoes. Angry, F-Faith bounced back up, her whole demeanor asking for a
fight. "Uh, Faith? As much as I'd like to fight with a Slayer, because you
know how much I enjoy shortening my life expectancy, I propose instead we have
a *talk*," he looked over at F-Willow, "between ourselves before we do
anything stupid or drastic." He let the final word hang heavy in the air as
his dark brown eyes settled back on F-Faith.

    F-Faith scowled at him, but crawled off of Buffy and grabbed F-Xander's
sleeve. "Then we talk," she grumped, looking towards F-Willow. F-Xander raised
his eyebrows in a come-over-here gesture.

    F-Willow looked back at them nervously, and then her eyes darted from the
Gang to Angel, and then back to her fellow visitors from the future. She
gulped and then climbed on top of the table, scurrying across it and the room
to get as far away from anybody that she could possibly be.

    While the threesome made their way to a tiny corner of the library, Buffy
turned to Giles. "So, what's the deal with the time warp?" Buffy asked
brightly, popping up on her heels in a decidedly Willow fashion.

    Giles was focusing on something over Buffy's shoulders-the empty spot where
Angel had stood but seconds ago-but now his eyes focused on the slayer. "Hmm,
time warp," Giles mused, bringing a hand up to his chin. He rubbed it
thoughtfully. "Could be."

    Xander shifted nervously on one foot. "So, uh, can . . ." he shot a look at
where the three adults were discussing in confidence. F-Xander had one
protective arm slung over a trembling F-Willow, and F-Faith, wet and
bedraggled as she was, managed to pull herself together and was looking fairly
foreboding as she reared up on her heels and yelled something angrily at F-
Xander. "Can Willow fix what happened?" It felt strangely odd to be talking
about his best friend as though she were not there. But she was, both aspects
of her. And his other "aspect" was with his arm around her other, and without
even looking Xander could tell that Oz was jealous.

    "We would have to ask her," Giles said, throwing a glance at the trio. F-
Xander was now yelling back at F-Faith, and she had stop her arguing to hear
his argument. F-Willow was clinging on to F-Xander's side, and she didn't look
up to casting a circle, much less gathering her physic energy to peer into the
shadows of the ether.

    "Don't you think I know that?" F-Xander was yelling at F-Faith, and he had
the advantage of being a head taller than her. He looked down at her, and
although F-Faith could lick him if she tried, it was still somewhat menacing.
"If anyone should want to kill him, it should be me. And Willow. And all of
Sunnydale in general. But we're not going to, because we're not going to do
some Hellmouth version of Back to the Future 2. Catch what I'm saying, Faith?"

    "Ok, I get the damn point!" F-Faith yelled back, standing on tiptoe and her
fists clutched at her side. "But I say that if Angelus gets within five feet
of me, I'm staking that son of a bitch, no matter *what*!" F-Faith was so much
into this that the veins on her neck were standing out. "And don't you tell me
otherwise!"

    "Fine," F-Willow said hurriedly, putting one slim hand on F-Xander's chest,
stopping him from lunging forwards towards Slayer #2. "If Angel comes near
you, then you stake him. But don't *you* go near *him*. Don't you go looking
for a fight." She finished off with a comically fierce expression that passed
off as pathetic in her current state.

    F-Faith shook her head, her short mane of wispy black hair fluttering around
her face. She sucked on her teeth and tossed her hair back, stomping away from
F-Xander and F-Willow and over to the table. She crossed her arms angrily and
slammed down into a chair. "The sooner this nightmare is over with, the
better," she hissed through clenched teeth. Then she started patting all the
pockets in her outfit, mumbling about something.

    "You know, sometimes it's like we connect, and then other times it's just
like we completely bounce off each other. She's so pissy. What makes slayers
act as though they have PMS all the time?" F-Xander murmured to Willow as they
made their own way to the table. "Maybe the slaying?" F-Willow suggested,
sitting down next to him as he pulled out two seats, across from F-Faith and
far enough away from their younger selves.

    "Do, you, ah, think you could do the spell now?" Giles asked, fumbling for
his glasses. He looked questioningly at F-Willow, and she stared blankly at
him, gathering her thoughts. Xander cleared his throat loudly, nervously. F-
Willow was clinging to his future self again.

    "Well, I would need, hmm, let us see . . ." she trailed off, staring at the
ceiling. "I would need a bit of salt, or a bit of earth, a cup of water, a
candle-pepper will do, I've found that out, but oh!-" F-Willow's eyes met with
Giles', and she started to shake again slightly. "Of course, you already know
what needs to be laid out on an altar. Really, all I need is some runes to
cast, a crystal ball if you have one or a chalice of red wine, and a stick of
sage to burn." She turned her eyes to floor. "That would be about it, really."

    Suddenly F-Xander gave a yelp and jumped out of his chair, sending it
clattering away to the floor. He back away, one hand on the knee of his left
leg, and staring beneath the table.

    Out materialized D-Giles, whom no one noticed had gone missing. He gave a
passing glance to F-Xander, but then turned around to face F-Willow. He rested
his shaggy golden-haired head on the arm of her chair and stared at her with
his deep, mournful brown eyes. They were nerving, and F-Willow scooted closer
to the other side of her chair. "Yes, that's it," she said detachedly, lost in
the dog's stare.

    "I-I'll get the materials," Willow said, backing towards the book cage where
Giles kept some of her things in stash, in case they ever needed to perform a
quick rite. "I know where they are." She closed the door to the cage behind
her in a hurry as she flung open the place where Giles kept the weapons, and
reached behind a crossbow where the makeshift altar that she had constructed
for Angel's re-souling had laid untounched for awhile.

    "Here's an altar," Willow announced, pulling it out and dusting it off. Her
red hair fell in front of her eyes and she shoved it back again with one hand,
even though the board was so heavy that she had to steady it on her leg to
keep herself balanced. She bumped out of the cage, carrying the altar. "There
are some packets underneath that-"

    "On no!" F-Willow cried out, jumping up and clapping a hand over her mouth,
her eyes opening wide. Willow was so surprised that she dropped the board, and
it made a loud crack as it split evenly in two. As Willow bent down to pick up
the pieces, F-Willow started pacing towards the double doors.

    "Oh my goddess," she whispered, "this is so serious." She turned back to face
the group, hands clutched behind her back. "Don't you see it to? Xander and I
are back here, but that's because Xander cast the spell and then I touched the
book it came from while it was still resonating with magick-"

    "Wait, how do you know that?" Xander asked, but F-Willow continued on over
his comment and no one paid him any mind.

    "-so that's why we're here. But that does *not* explain why Faith and the dog
are here. I mean, that dog is a puzzle onto itself. But we can only assume
that since the four of us are back, then everyone else is too." Her hand
appeared, and they were streaked with red marks from where F-Willow had
pressed down too hard. "That means Oz, and Cordelia, and . . ." she let the
unspoken name hang in the air, and instead concentrated on the floor. "And
other people," she finished up quietly.

    "Then we have to go find them," F-Faith said when nobody else spoke up. "But
where?"

    "Well, let us analyze where we ended up." F-Willow sat down on the floor,
unconsciously crossing her legs yoga-style, as though she was preparing for
meditation. "Faith, you . . .?"

    "Ocean," F-Faith said, hissing through her teeth again. She grabbed a bit of
her hair, which had dried now and was sticky and smelled like salt. She
grabbed a thick chunk between her hands and wrung it out, drops of seawater
falling on the hardwood floor. "The ocean," she repeated again, wiping her
hands on her leather outfit.

    "Ok," F-Willow said, and played around with her tongue, letting it climb up
the walls and roof of her mind. For some reason, it helped her to calm down
and to think. Unfortunately, it also gave her a very grotesque appearance,
most of the time. "And Xander, you?"

    "The library, right where you found me." He put his chin on his hands and
stared at F-Willow oddly. "Did Angel *really* 'save' you?"

    F-Willow rolled her eyes. "Forget the irony right now," F-Willow said. "I'm
just glad someone got me out of there. I hate the cemetery, I mean," he voice
was reduced to the tiniest bit of sound. "You know how I feel about the
cemetery, about what happened there." And then, with that out of her mouth,
she gasped.

    "I have it!" She cried, leaping up. "Again, I mean, I have it again!" She
walked quickly over to F-Faith. "I mean, you're terrified of the ocean,
right?" F-Faith was not one to advertise her fears, and the slayer just stared
back at her with dull eyes. "Ok, don't admit it, but I know the truth." As F-
Willow turned around to walk near to Xander, F-Faith's eyes bore proverbial
holes in F-Willow's head. "And Xander, you were in the library 'cause of . . .
well, you know." She paused uncomfortably.

    "Point?" F-Xander asked, sighing loudly.

    "It means that we all came back to a place that we hated. Faith, the ocean.
Me, the cemetery. You, the library. So basically, all the others are in places
that they hate. So it will be easy to find."

    "That's just grand, Will," F-Xander said, standing up. He pushed that chair
back in and went over to lean heavily on the banister. He wasn't feeling very
good. "But just exactly where are we going to find Oz and Cordelia at? Who
knows where they hate the most?"

    There was a moment of silence. Present and future were consumed with trying
to find out where they would find the others. Then Oz walked over to F-Willow.
He put a tentative hand on her shoulder, and F-Willow felt the touch of her Oz
now, and she wanted to feel it again. She just had to find him and see if he
was ok.

    "Um, I think I might know where I am," he said quietly. Then his eyes made
the slightest flick towards Xander and Willow, and suddenly it clicked with
everyone where exactly they could find Oz.



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "Andrea Newbery" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Best Intentions, (6/18)
Date: 15 Jan 1999 08:56:35 PST

Title: Best Intentions
Author: Andrea
e-mail: [e-mail]
disclaimer: These characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant
Enemy, the WB, etc. They are not mine.
spoilers: Everything up to the end of season two.
distribution: Sure, just let me know.
summary: Xander/Cordelia. This fic is set in the same timeline as
Christine's amazing story, 'The Wildest Times in the World' although
technically this story takes place before that one. If you haven't read
it, e-mail me and I'll send it to you.
Feedback: Please. Good, bad, anything.
Thanks to Christine, for writing the story that started this, and for
helping me when I got stuck and for thinking up the title. And there's
still more I could thank you for. :)




May 30, 2006

Cordelia received her final divorce papers on a Friday, almost a year to
the day after she arrived in Sunnydale. She sat in her small impersonal
apartment the entire night staring at the walls, not knowing exactly
what she was supposed to be feeling. Should she feel some sadness over
the failure her marriage had been? Some sense of shame that she had
disappointed her family? God knows, her parents thought she should. But
she couldn't feel either of those things; all she felt was alone. She
had done it, had gotten rid of all the traps she had set for herself in
her attempt to leave Xander and the person she was behind. So now that
she was free, she didn't know what to do with herself. Her life was
empty, filled only by her long hours at work. She had no friends, no
hobbies; she didn't even own a t.v. She was twenty five years old and
she was a divorced woman. Laughing suddenly in the silence of the
apartment, she stood up and went to stand in front of the mirror.
Staring at her image she spoke sternly to herself. "It's time Cordelia.
You have to find him, try and explain. You have to get past this and
move on with your life. Or else you should start buying cats." Making a
face at the vision of her surrounded by only cats for the rest of her
life, she turned away from the mirror, grabbing a sweater as she left
her apartment. She climbed into her car and drove aimlessly for hours,
not sure what she should do now. Finally she stopped at the beach,
thinking that a walk along the water would help her focus her thoughts.

She wandered slowly down the beach, pulling her shoes off so that she
could feel the sand beneath her feet. Kicking the sand in front of her
she walked with her head down, not noticing that she was alone on the
beach until she heard the crash of breaking glass. She froze,
remembering suddenly where she was and the trouble she may have gotten
herself into. She moved forward cautiously, her breath catching when she
saw the figure standing on the beach. Her heart stopped as she drank in
the sight of him. She watched him sit down on the rocks they had once
sat on together, his pained expression keeping her frozen in place.
*************
Sunnydale High School Library
May 30, 2006

"So, what's the sitch?" Xander spoke casually as he sat down across from
his two best friends, his two very concerned looking best friends.
Settling back into his chair he scanned the library for Giles, sure he
would be coming out from the stacks any moment, research face firmly in
place. He turned back to Willow and Buffy, still not overly concerned.
"Anyone?"

Willow shared a look with Buffy before clearing her throat. "Um...well,
it's not a demon."

Xander stared at the hacker turned Watcher with a perplexed look. "Not a
demon? Then why the big meeting and the long faces? It's Friday night, I
might have had plans."

"Right Xander." Buffy spoke sarcastically. "Like a date?"

Xander grinned at her, hiding his hurt under a smile. "And you have so
much room to talk."

Willow held up her hands to silence both of them. "Enough." She turned
to Buffy; a look of warning on her face.

The Slayer nodded slowly, then turned to Xander and blurted out their
news. "Cordelia's back in town. She's been in town for almost a year,
but we were afraid to tell you."

He sat stunned as Willow turned angrily to Buffy. "We were going to ease
into it, remember? Be gentle? We were not going to just throw it at
him."

"You would never have been able to say it." Buffy accused Willow; her
face sad. "You wanted to try and hide it from him forever."

"Why didn't you?" Xander's voice sounded like it was far away even to
his own ears. He stared at his friends, feeling himself sinking into a
dark hole. The same one he had spent four years trying to climb out of.
He lashed out at Buffy and Willow, anger the only emotion he could hold
onto. "If she's been here for a year and I didn't know...why didn't you
just keep it a secret?"

Willow held her hand out to him, her eyes burning into his. Her voice
was shaking slightly as she answered him. "If I thought that I could
keep it from you forever I would have." She grabbed his hand when he
didn't offer it to her and held on tightly.

Buffy nodded at Willow's words, her eyes full of sadness for him. "But
we think Cordelia may try and contact you."

Xander felt a surge of hope run through him, but it quickly died.
Cordelia would never contact him unless she wanted something. He felt
the pain he had known when she left clawing at his stomach, reminding
him of the years of torture he had put himself through trying to get
over her. Not sure if he could keep his voice from breaking, he spoke
softly. "Why would she contact me?"

Willow took a deep breath, her face turning slightly red. "I've
been...well..."

Buffy interrupted Willow's confession, speaking quickly. "Willow's been
tracking her. Trying to find out what she's back for, and why."

Xander turned to Willow; impressed by the lengths she had gone to trying
to protect him. "And you found something today that made you decide to
tell me that she was here?"

Willow nodded before replying. "Her divorce becomes final today."

Xander swallowed loudly, the thought of Cordelia getting a divorce
shocking him. He couldn't picture her giving up her perfect life with
her perfect husband and running back to Sunnydale. He looked at Buffy
and Willow, his expression confused, they didn't actually think that it
had anything to do with him, did they? His voice puzzled he pushed them
for more information. "And why do you think this will make her contact
me?"

"She didn't get any money. No alimony, no lump sum payment, nothing."
Buffy spoke angrily; pushing herself away from the table and standing
up. She stared intently at Xander as if she could make him see what she
saw. "She supports herself making clothes."

"So?" Xander inquired, still struggling with the knowledge that
Cordelia's perfect life hadn't turned out quite so perfectly.

"So you have money now Xander." Buffy slammed her hands down on the
table, leaning in closer to him. "Don't you see? You have what she
wants, what she's always wanted. Money, prestige, you've got it all
now."

Leaning back in his chair as if he could escape Buffy's words Xander's
mind spun as he tried to process everything he had been told. Cordelia
was back in town, divorced and penniless. He closed his eyes, picturing
the girl he once loved with all his heart, her bright smile and dark
hair, the girl who had almost destroyed him. He opened his eyes slowly,
looking into the concerned eyes of his best friends. Clearing his throat
he spoke calmly. "Well, she's out of luck if she's looking to me for a
free ride. The Cordelia I loved was nothing but an illusion, the real
Cordelia has nothing to offer me."

"You still love her." Willow spoke surely without a hint of judgment in
her voice.

"I love a dream Willow. I love a girl who cared about other people and
didn't care about money or power. I loved a girl who loved me back. That
girl is not Cordelia." Xander stared straight at Willow as he spoke, not
sure if he was trying to convince her or himself.

"We just don't want you to hurt anymore." Buffy offered quietly, the
anger gone from her body now. She slipped back into her chair beside
Willow and continued speaking. "We almost lost you before because of her
and we don't want it to happen again."

"It won't." Xander said quietly, anger slowly building in him. "Cordelia
will never get a chance to destroy me, if anything I'll destroy her."
His voice shook with conviction as his eyes hardened. Pushing his chair
back he slowly climbed to his feet feeling suddenly old. "I'll talk to
you guys tomorrow okay? I need to be alone right now."

He felt their worried looks as he walked out of the library, but he
refused to look back. Heading slowly out of the High School he was
overcome by memories of Cordelia everywhere he walked, the closets they
used to make out in, the bench they had sat together on, all of the
memories pushing his anger away and leaving only sorrow.

Xander walked slowly along the beach holding an almost empty bottle of
rum carelessly in his hand. Since leaving the library two hours ago he
had been walking on the beach, trying to make sense of his life. How had
he gotten to the point that his two best friends were so worried about
his sanity that they had kept this a secret from him for a year? Looking
down at the bottle in his hand he wondered if they weren't right to
worry. He hadn't taken one drink since his first book had been
published, but with the news that she was back in town all his hard won
peace had shattered.

Throwing the bottle against a rock he enjoyed the noise it made as it
smashed. How had he lost her? How had she fooled him?  He still couldn't
understand after all these years how she had just walked away. He
thought she loved him as much as he had loved her. Still loved her. But
she had walked away without a backward glance. One night she had been
his Cordy, and then in a blink of an eye she had become the bitch again.
He had been so stunned at her sudden change he hadn't even asked her
why, hadn't fought for her at all. He just let her go; let his love walk
out of his life and never look back.

He sat down on the sand, his knees pulled tight against his chest,
remembering the start of their last summer, when they had sat together
on this beach and vowed never to be apart again.
*********

June 25, 2000

Xander watched his girlfriend run along the edge of the water, her pants
rolled up past her ankles as she yelled at him to hurry up and come join
her. He dropped the pile of blankets he had collected from the car and
deciding that starting the fire could wait, he pulled of his shoes and
ran to the water.

Cordelia grabbed him as he came near her, wrapping her arms around his
neck as he swung her around, both of them laughing as the water splashed
their pants. She leaned against him, laughing helplessly as they spun.
He stopped when he thought he would fall, and they held onto each other
as they waited for the world to stop spinning around them. He pulled
back from her and  looking into her eyes he grinned. "So, did you miss
me?"

She laughed freely then, her joy filling his heart. "Miss you? How could
I? I called you every night." Leaning forward she kissed him quickly
before pulling out of his arms and running down the beach.

He shook his head and took off running after her, tackling her from
behind and falling with her into the water. They both went under and
came up gasping for breath. Cordelia glared at him, her mascara running
in black streaks down her face. He tried his best to look innocent and
was rewarded when she pulled him to her, kissing him deeply as the waves
crashed around them. They lay in a tight embrace on the beach until
Xander became aware that she wasn't shaking from desire, but because she
was freezing. Pulling her up they walked slowly to the blankets.

"Take off your clothes, I'll start the fire." Xander threw the bag of
extra clothes at her as he spoke.

"Pervert. I just got home and you're trying to get me naked already."
Cordelia spoke, her teeth chattering.

Xander turned and looked her up and down slowly before turning away.
"Drenched rats don't do it for me honey. Sorry." He smiled to himself,
knowing she was glaring at him as he concentrated on getting the fire
going. Once it was well lit he turned towards her, wanting to get out of
his wet clothes too.

Cordelia was standing there, her wet clothes removed, but no new ones
added. She grinned at him. "On the other hand, I kinda like a drenched
rat." Moving forward she pulled his t-shirt over his head and embraced
him. "But I like the no-clothes type of rat even better."

He kissed her then, his hands touching her body, feeling her heat
burning him. She leaned into his embrace and he picked her up. Carrying
her over to the blankets spread out beside the fire he carefully laid
her down.  Staring down at her in the firelight he spoke in a voice
thick with emotion. "I don't really know what trick of fate put the two
of us together, but I am so thankful for it. This year apart has only
strengthened what I already feel for you."

She looked up at him; the tears in her eyes making them shine. She
reached up and ran her hand along the line of his jaw. "Me too. Now come
here." Her hand slipped around the back of his head and brought his lips
down to meet hers. They had made love almost silently, their bodies
speaking for them, until much later when they were curled up together
under the blankets and the fire had almost burnt out.

"Xander." Cordelia's voice was so low he could barely hear her. " I did
miss you, everyday. I felt like I had lost a piece of myself. Even
though I knew I would see you again, it still hurt. I was so worried
that you would forget me, or decide that you didn't really love me."

He leaned up on one elbow, staring down at her. "I know the feeling. I
worried that you would remember that I was a loser, or a geek. Or that
you would decide that it cost too much to love me."

"Too much? I've only gained from loving you. And if you're a geek, then
I'll shout from the rooftops that I love a geek." Her hands ran over his
shoulders as she spoke, her eyes clouding with renewed desire.

He leaned down and kissed her, his arms tightening around her as he
loved her. They had fallen asleep much later, their limbs tangled
together. He had woken as the sky began to lighten, waking her with a
soft kiss. "Come on Cordy. If you don't want to make a public show of
yourself we'd better get going."

She sat up slowly; silently putting her clothes back on and helping him
fold up all the blankets. They walked hand in hand back towards the car.
He stopped halfway there, her silence frightening him. "Cord, is
something wrong?"

She looked at him, startled out of her thoughts. Pulling him over to the
rocks that lined the beach she sat down and looked at him. "I don't want
to do it again."

He looked at her, his heart racing. Sitting down beside her, he
questioned her. "Do what?"

"Leave you." Her voice whispered across the deserted beach. Then
speaking louder she said it again. "Leave you. I don't want to be apart
from you."

"Then don't." Xander said softly, his arm sliding around her. "Except,
what about your school?"

"I'll figure something out. I just can't leave again." Her voice sounded
as if she would cry, but her face was determined.

"So then we'll find a way. I mean we've done battle with the forces of
evil. This should be a piece of cake." Smiling at his girlfriend he
pulled her to him and held her.
********

Xander leaned back against the rock, staring out at the waves crashing
along the shore. Speaking to himself he asked the question he wanted to
hear her answer. The same thing he asked every time, the question he
would never get the answer to.  "So then what changed Cordelia? Did you
decide that I wasn't good enough for you? Was it pressure from your
family? Or did you just stop loving me?"

"No Xander. I never stopped loving you."
********



______________________________________________________
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "Andrea Newbery" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Best Intentions, (7/18)
Date: 15 Jan 1999 08:58:35 PST

Title: Best Intentions
Author: Andrea
e-mail: [e-mail]
disclaimer: These characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant
Enemy, the WB, etc. They are not mine.
spoilers: Everything up to the end of season two.
distribution: Sure, just let me know.
summary: Xander/Cordelia. This fic is set in the same timeline as
Christine's amazing story, 'The Wildest Times in the World' although
technically this story takes place before that one. If you haven't read
it, e-mail me and I'll send it to you.
Feedback: Please. Good, bad, anything.
Thanks to Christine, for writing the story that started this, and for
helping me when I got stuck and for thinking up the title. And there's
still more I could thank you for. :)


May 30, 2006


Cordelia felt the words leave her mouth before she even considered it.
He turned at the sound of her voice and stared blankly at her standing
there. She watched him consider her, knew that he hadn't accepted her
presence yet. But then his face filled with love and he moved towards
her, his hand outstretched. She held her breath, her heart pounding
wildly, moving tentatively forward.  Xander reached out for her, his
hands grasping her tightly as he pulled her to him, mumbling softly in
her hair as his hands moved across her back. Cordelia stood frozen in
his embrace, caught between enjoying the feel of him holding her again
and the knowledge that the smell of liquor emanating from him was
probably the only reason he was anywhere near her. She pulled back
slightly, fighting the urge to stay in his arms as long as he would let
her. Xander stumbled as she moved away, his upper body swaying as he
tried to stay on his feet.

"Are you real?" The words tumbled from his mouth barely intelligible. He
reached out to touch her face, his eyes full of love. "Are you back with
me?"

She stared at him, realizing he was to far gone to remember that he
hated her. Swallowing the tears that wanted to come she smiled at him.
"It's me. Come on, I'll take you home."

"No." Xander sank to the sand, his arms reaching out for her. "I was
just remembering the night we spent here on the beach, when you told me
that you never wanted to leave me. Stay with me here. Pretend you never
left me." His voice pleaded with her.

Cordelia was beside him on the sand before she had time to think, her
arms encircling him as if she could protect him from the clarity he
would find once the effects of the liquor wore off. "I'll stay Xander.
Don't worry, I won't leave."

"But you did." Xander spoke brokenly, more to himself than to her. "You
left me and you said you never wanted to leave me." Snuggling his head
onto her lap he closed his eyes and began snoring softly.

Running her fingers through his hair Cordelia cried softly, her heart
breaking at the pain he still felt. "I never wanted to leave you.
Never." Her arms wrapped around him tightly as he lay in her lap and she
watched him sleep.

She woke a few hours later, the moon still high in the sky. She was
confused for a moment, the feel of someone's arms around her an
unfamiliar feeling. Xander moved against her then, his arms holding her
a little tighter as he mumbled in his sleep. She stared at his face, so
peaceful and unable to help herself she leaned in slightly to kiss his
face. Knowing that she shouldn't do it, but also knowing that once he
woke he would hate her again. Softly she touched her lips to his, trying
to memorize the feel so she could carry it with her always.

When his lips began to move against hers she pulled back, but his lips
captured hers again and she gave into the kiss. Her mind was screaming
for her to move away, to stop this before it went any further, but the
feel of him in her arms was too hard to fight. Cordelia surrendered to
the moment, the temptation to be with him again impossible to resist.
She closed her mind to any thought except the feel of him in her arms as
they made love once again.

She woke again as the sun was slowly coming up in the sky. Slipping from
Xander's arms she dressed quickly, terrified he would wake up before she
could disappear. Last night had been her gift from fate and she knew as
soon as Xander woke reality would come crashing back. Looking back down
at his sleeping form she smiled softly before turning and running down
the beach.

Cordelia avoided the beach after that night, afraid she would run into
Xander again, afraid he wouldn't remember that night. More afraid that
he would. She threw herself into her work once again, the loneliness
becoming more and more difficult to bear. Most nights she sat alone in
her apartment wondering how she was going to survive the rest of her
life. Something had to change, she was sure of that. She either had to
get out of this town, or move on.  Xander wasn't ever going to be a part
of her life. Rescue came in a strange form, her old friend Harmony, now
a busy socialite in the Sunnydale country club came into her shop one
day to ask for her help with a charity auction to benefit the Children's
hospital. She couldn't understand why she said yes, but she had,
grabbing onto the first semi-friendly voice she had heard directed at
her since she had come home.  Before she knew it she was on the planning
committee and most of her nights were busy.

She almost enjoyed the nights spent planning, enjoyed the verbal
sparring matches with Harmony, enjoying even more the look on Harmony's
face when the only space available to hold the auction was at Sunnydale
High School's auditorium. Some days she could almost pretend that this
was the life she had always wanted. Everything went smoothly until she
received the final copy of the guest list. She had felt her stomach drop
out when she saw Willow, Buffy and Xander's name on the list of major
contributors. Grabbing a chair she waited for the sinking feeling to
pass. She looked over the paper closely, unable to believe that she had
walked into the trap Harmony had set, but there it was, hidden on the
back page in tiny letters, Alex Harris will be emceeing the auction.
Laughing bitterly she stared at the words, finally understanding why
Harmony had wanted her to be on the committee.

 Going into her room she changed her clothes without knowing for sure
what she planned to do. Quickly fixing her hair and make-up she stood
looking at herself in the mirror. Satisfied that she looked like the
Cordelia they all thought she was she spun around and left her apartment
once again. Driving much too fast down familiar streets she pulled up to
Sunnydale High School before she had time to think about what she was
doing.

Slamming the car door behind her she walked into the building and headed
straight to the gym. There was a meeting of the decorating committee
there tonight. She wasn't sure if Harmony would still be there, but she
was to angry to think straight. Yelling out Harmony's name she entered
the gym, her eyes blazing as she prepared to have it out with her one
time friend.  "Harmony, why didn't you tell me? I can't do this.
Harmony, where are you?"

"She's not here."

She spun around at the sound of his voice, her stomach clenching.
"Xander." She fought desperately to keep her voice sounding normal as
the room swam around her. Losing the battle the room around her faded as
she fell forward onto the floor.

She came back to consciousness slowly, realizing that she was no longer
in the gym. Moving her head tentatively she realized she was in the
library. And that a very annoyed Xander was staring down at her.
Struggling to a sitting position she pushed her hair off her face as she
waited for him to speak.

"Why did you come back here?" Xander's voice was low and angry.

"I...I was trying to find Harmony. I didn't know you were here."
Cordelia spoke softly, not wanting to anger him further.

"Not here. Sunnydale. Why come back? Haven't you done enough?" Xander's
voice was still angry, but she could hear the pain under it, the hurt he
was hiding.

Swallowing she struggled to sit up, hiding the hurt she felt. "I wanted
to explain. To apologize. Xander..."

He was staring at her in open horror now, his mouth hanging open. "You
are back for me."

Cordelia stared questioningly at him. "Back for you? I know you'll never
forgive me. I just...I just wanted to say that I was sorry. More sorry
than you'll ever know."

He began shaking his head, his features hardening into a mask. His mouth
was tight as he spoke. "So, now you're sorry. Now that I have the money
and the prestige you're sorry. How very Cordelia-like."

It was her turn to be horrified as she leaned back against the couch.
"No. I...money doesn't mean anything. Xander..."

He smiled at her as he began clapping slowly; each time his hands came
together the roar in Cordelia's head got louder. "Beautiful Cordy.
Beautiful. I might believe you, if I didn't already know you. Very
realistic, you almost seem human, your face so pale and your hair a
mess. One might almost think that you were being truthful. That you had
no idea that I would be here."

"I didn't." She choked out.

Xander continued as if he hadn't heard her. "But we both know you did.
I've been set to emcee the auction for months. You can't honestly expect
me to believe that you didn't know that."

Cordelia stared at her hands, wondering why she hadn't realized what
Harmony was up to. She didn't realize he was waiting for her answer
until he spoke again.

"What? You thought it would be this easy to trick me? You faint and I
come running back.  Come on Cordy, put a little effort into it. Put a
smile on your face, compliment me, something. Cause this lost soul look
just isn't you." Xander's leaned in close to her, the tone of his voice
chilling her.

She pulled her knees up to her chest, wanting to block out his words.
Speaking softly she questioned him. "And what exactly do you know about
me?"

"I know you're heartless and cold. I know people are nothing more than a
means to an end for you. I know you Cordelia. And I won't be fooled this
time." Xander glared at her, his arms crossed in front of him.

She nodded her head, folding her arms tighter around herself, trying to
widen the distance between them. "Like I fooled you before? Is that what
you mean? And how did I fool you Xander? By dating you? By changing
everything about my life? By loving you?"

"Don't." Xander's voice was harsh. "Don't sully the word Cordelia. Call
it lust, call it anything, but don't say that you loved me."

Cordelia threw her head up and glared at him. "Does that make it easier?
Well, I did. So deal with it."

"Maybe you did, as much as you can love anything." Xander turned and
started to walk out of the library.

Cordelia watched him start to leave, but the anger was present in her,
for the first time in a long time and she couldn't let it go, even if it
destroyed her to see the hate on his face. She sprung from the chair,
ignoring the buzzing in her head as she caught up with him, grabbing his
shirt to turn him around. "How dare you? How dare you say these things
to me? What gives you the right to sit in judgment on me?"

He pulled his arm free and spat out. "Because I loved you. Because I
believed you loved me. Because you left me, and you never looked back.
Because I wanted to die when you left." His face was bitter as he
paused, before continuing. "Because I still dream about you, dream of
holding you. That's what gives me the right." His voice was louder now,
his anger building. "Because after all this time I still want you. Is
that what you want to hear?"

Cordelia stared at him, her anger fading as she remembered the night on
the beach and realized that to him it was only a dream. Her voice was
soft as she spoke again. "How do you know I never looked back? Did you
ever look for me? Ever call me? Don't lay this all on me Xander. You
never once tried to come after me. You seem to think I walked away free
and clear Xander." Her voice broke as her words trailed off.

"Come off it. Cordelia Chase doesn't miss someone like me. You just went
back to everything that being with me made you lose."

She crumbled then, feeling her insides disintegrate. Holding herself
together by sheer will she spoke again, "How could you have been with me
Xander? We were together for over two years and the whole time you were
just waiting for me to change back?"

"No. I believed you. I believed the lie, totally." Xander's voice was
bitter as he stared at her.

Cordelia nodded her head at him, her smile bitter. "But I act like a
bitch for two weeks and you forgot those two years. You let me walk
away. You didn't call, didn't write. You've been so busy hating me,
blaming me, that you never asked yourself why. You never asked me why."
Her voice was shrill and out of control even to her own ears. "You let
me go Xander. I was yours and you let me go. And I've taken the blame
for it for much too long, but I'm done now. You can take your hatred and
your mistrust and your friends and you can stay out of my way."

Xander was watching her, the hatred mixing with puzzlement on his face.
He was silent for a moment before the confusion faded away, and the
anger burned even stronger. "Cordelia this is low, even for you. You're
going to try and blame this on me? And then conveniently forgive me, I
suppose. Then we'll fall into each other's arms and live happily ever
after. Well then come here honey." Xander reached out and grabbed her
before she could react.

He pulled her close to him, his lips hovering above hers for a moment
before coming down hard on them. Cordelia was engulfed in a storm of
emotions, from passion to fear, overwhelming love to the first stirring
of hate.  She kissed him back frantically; unable to stem the tide of
emotions she was feeling. He released her just as suddenly, pushing her
away with one hand as he wiped his mouth with the other. "So is it all
forgiven honey?" Xander voice was rough, his breath ragged.

Cordelia felt the burn in her lips, and the hole that had just widened
in her soul. She felt a tear run down her cheek, but she refused to wipe
it away. Speaking softly to the man she loved she whispered, "I forgave
you everything that happened then. I don't know if I'll ever forgive you
this night."

Turning Cordelia walked out of the library, wiping frantically at the
tears that spilled down her face. She felt her anger burn inside her at
Xander, at Willow, at Buffy. At all the people who had found it so easy
to believe the worst of her.
********


______________________________________________________
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "Andrea Newbery" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Best Intentions, (8a/18)
Date: 15 Jan 1999 09:05:42 PST

Title: Best Intentions
Author: Andrea
e-mail: [e-mail]
disclaimer: These characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant
Enemy, the WB, etc. They are not mine.
spoilers: Everything up to the end of season two.
distribution: Sure, just let me know.
summary: Xander/Cordelia. This fic is set in the same timeline as
Christine's amazing story, 'The Wildest Times in the World' although
technically this story takes place before that one. If you haven't read
it, e-mail me and I'll send it to you.
Feedback: Please. Good, bad, anything.
Thanks to Christine, for writing the story that started this, and for
helping me when I got stuck and for thinking up the title. And there's
still more I could thank you for. :)





July 17, 2006

Xander watched her walk away; her head held high, her shoulders
straight. He felt a curious lump in his throat. She was back, finally,
after all this time. And even though he knew she was lying he had wanted
to believe her. Even though he knew she was a self-absorbed bitch who
didn't even understand the meaning of the word love he wanted to chase
after her and beg her to forgive him. He sat heavily down in a chair,
his hands covering his face.

He didn't notice when Willow entered the library and sat down in the
chair across from him. She cleared her throat quietly, letting him now
that she was there. He looked up into the understanding face of his best
friend. "She was here."

Willow nodded as she reached out and patted his arm. "I saw her car
outside. She looked pretty upset."

Xander sat back in his chair and rubbed his hands across his eyes. "Her
plan didn't work. She played the damsel in distress to perfection, but I
told her I knew what she was up to."

"Good." Willow looked at him, her face worried. "You've got to let this
go Xander. Move on. Cordelia left you over five years ago and you're
still not over it. Buffy's doing better than you."

"Buffy's doing better because she knows he loved her. Hell I know he
loved her and I can't stand the guy." Xander slammed his hand down on
the table. "Why couldn't I have someone who loved me as much as they
loved each other?" He stood quickly, walking over to the weapons cage.
"Except who isn't a monster."

"Xander." Willow's voice held a note of warning.

"I know, I know. But I never liked him." Xander busied himself playing
with the weapons that were not yet put away.

"You will have someone that loves you that much Xander. I'm sure of it."
Willow got up from her chair and walked over to him, carefully taking
the crossbow from his hands and locking it up.

Xander smiled at his friend before walking away from the weapons cage.
He didn't look at her as he began speaking again. "I had this dream
about Cordelia and I can't seem to stop thinking about it."  Picking up
a book he feigned interest in it until Willow came around to stand in
front of him. Knowing she would wait all night for him to finish he
began speaking again. "I dreamt that she came to me on the beach and
told me that she never wanted to leave me. And..and then we made love."
Xander dropped his head, his face turning red as he suddenly threw the
book he was holding. His paced around the library as he continued
talking, his voice angry.  "I can't stop thinking about it. It was so
real, so vivid. I keep having these flashes of her, she's crying or
she's holding me, or we're making love. It's driving me crazy, but I
can't get it to go away."

"Xander..." Willow's voice trailed off as she looked sympathetically at
him. Squaring her shoulders she spoke softly. "What if she's not lying?
What if she really has changed, realized that she made a mistake? I
mean, Xander, none of us has a perfect track record. Maybe she got
scared?"

"Willow she wasn't scared. She was a bitch. She walked away from all of
us without ever looking back." Xander glared at Willow before stalking
out of the library.

*******

______________________________________________________
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "Andrea Newbery" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Best Intentions, (8b/18)
Date: 15 Jan 1999 09:06:27 PST

Title: Best Intentions
disclaimers in part 8a.


********
Cordelia sat in her car for hours, sobbing until she had no tears left.
The only thought left in her head was anger at the unfairness of it all.
How dare he sit on his high horse and judge her? He had failed her too.
He was the one kissing another girl in the graveyard. She vowed to
herself that these were the last tears she was ever going to cry for
him.

She drove home blindly, and walked into her empty apartment. Sitting
down at her kitchen table she dropped her head into her hands. Xander's
words had shown her something she had tried not to face. His touch had
proven his words. That had held none of the pain she had seen at the
beach, none of the love she had felt in his arms. The sober Xander
detested her more than she had imagined. He hadn't doubted her act, not
even for a moment. When she had insulted him, he had thought that was
the real Cordelia. Slamming her fists down on the table she pushed her
chair back. Standing she began pacing around the room, her anger pushing
the unbearable pain down so low she could barely feel it.

She walked through the weeks leading up to the auction in a daze, barely
noticing the world around her. The nausea and the dizziness that seemed
to plague her constantly she ignored until she passed out in the grocery
store one day and woke up in the emergency room at Sunnydale General.
She had tried to sit up, but a wave of nausea forced her to lay back
down. She heard a rustling beside her bed and turned to see Willow
sitting quietly in a chair.

The redhead looked up from her magazine and spoke quietly. "I saw you
pass out. I..I don't think anyone should wake up in a hospital all
alone."

Cordelia stared at Willow; her thoughts still confused as she noticed
the air of self-confidence Willow now possessed. Licking her lips she
whispered her thanks before closing her eyes again. She lay there,
comforted by the rustle of the paper as Willow read her magazine. When
she felt stronger she spoke to Willow again, her voice soft. "You don't
have to stay. I'm awake now, and I know how you feel about me."

"Do you?" Willow spoke calmly, placing the magazine in her lap as she
considered Cordelia.

"You hate me." Cordelia whispered.

 Willow nodded her head slightly. "You hurt Xander. He almost died when
you left."

"And you think I was okay?" Cordelia stared at the ceiling, knowing
there was no way to change the actions she had taken. No matter why she
had done it, she had still done it and the result had been horrible. But
she was also finished pretending that she was something or someone she
wasn't. Almost whispering she spoke. "I loved him with everything I was.
Do you think it was easy to leave?"

"You did." Willow's voice was still calm.

Cordelia nodded her head once. "You're right. I did. But he never
followed me. Never tried to find out why I left."

Willow stared at her like she was crazy. "You were so cold to him. Why
should he have? You made it perfectly clear to all of us that we meant
nothing to you."

Cordelia almost laughed, choking it down at the last minute. Afraid if
she started she may just keep laughing until they came with the little
white jacket. Her voice was brittle when she spoke again. "And how did I
do that? By never asking you what was wrong when you started acting
strange? By just assuming that the only reason someone could be bitchy
is because they were a bitch? By ignoring someone's actions over a
period of two years in favor of how they act for two weeks?" Cordelia
stopped speaking suddenly, the tears to close for her to be able to keep
talking.

Willow's voice was louder now.  "Are you trying to say that we failed
you?"

Cordelia covered her face in her hands, trying to give herself a moment
before she answered. Uncovering her face she spoke to the ceiling. "No.
I failed. I know that now." Her breath caught on a sob as she turned to
look at Willow, her eyes wild. "It was my fault. I thought I was doing
the best thing for everyone, but it wasn't. I thought I would make Buffy
happy, Xander happy, everyone happy. And no one would feel guilty,
because I was just shallow, self-absorbed Cordelia." Not wanting to face
Willow's questioning look she continued, talking more to herself than to
Willow. "It half worked, everyone thinks I'm a bitch."

Willow was glaring at her, her expression furious. "The best thing? You
thought losing you would be the best thing for Xander?"

Cordelia took in Willow's angry expression and decided she had finally
had enough. Her eyes dull, she stared at Willow. "Yes. I thought that
would be the best thing. I, Cordelia, tried to be self-sacrificing and
all I got for my trouble was a lifetime of loneliness. And the added
bonus of ruining Xander's life. I won't ever make that mistake again."

Willow laughed then, her voice mocking. "Self-sacrificing? You?"

"Yes,  me." Cordelia's voice was empty of any emotion. "How dare you
even presume to know me or what I would do? I fought beside you for over
three years, was your friend for over two. I proved myself to you. I
trusted you. I even, and this is the really funny part, I loved you. But
you never felt the same, none of you did. You were all waiting for the
old Cordelia to reappear. All of you, even Xander!"

"That's not true." Willow spoke angrily.

"Not true? Did you believe I loved Xander? Before I changed?" Cordelia
fired the questions at her.

"Yes." Willow spat the word out, her face cold.

"Did you believe I was your friend?"

"Yes."

Cordelia smiled then, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Then why didn't you
ask me if anything was wrong? Why did you let me push you away? It was
so easy for you to do." She paused, struggling to keep the hurt out of
her face. "You've done it for Buffy, for Xander, Oz, Giles, even Angel.
But you never asked me, never cared enough to ask."

"I'll ask now then. Did you have a reason?" Willow spoke carefully, as
if the answer was something she didn't want to hear.

"Yes. And it was a stupid reason, and it means nothing now." Cordelia
felt all her anger leaving her as she realized how futile this
discussion was. She had lost Xander because of her actions, and whether
or not Willow had cared for her once didn't really matter anymore. She
felt the tears slip down her face, but she didn't care. Smiling sadly at
Willow she spoke. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I came back here. I
thought...I thought I...I don't know what I was thinking. I just...I
never thought I would hurt him Willow. I swear I didn't. I thought he
would be happy without me."

"Why? Didn't you know how much he loved you?" Willow's voice was cold as
she considered her.

"Yes. I did. But I also knew how much he had once loved Buffy, and she
was so alone, and so sad. I thought if I was out of the picture they
would be happy together. But they weren't, so I lost everything for
nothing." Cordelia cursed herself for the broken sound of her voice. She
wasn't supposed to cry about this anymore. It was done, over; she should
just turn and walk away.

"Why would you get jealous of Buffy then? Xander hadn't been in love
with her for years." Willow spoke softly, her expression slightly less
cold.

"It doesn't matter now Willow." Cordelia felt a weight lift off her
shoulders as she spoke the words. She stared at Willow, seeing the past
much clearer now. "What I thought or felt, or even saw means nothing."

"How can you say that? Xander loved you." Willow was almost screaming
now. "You owe him some explanation of why you left him. Even if it is as
stupid as being jealous of Buffy."

Cordelia nodded at Willows words, her heart still aching at the pain she
had caused him, and the pain she had felt seeing him again. "So you tell
him. Maybe then he'll understand, and stop putting all the blame on me."

"Tell him what?" Willow took a deep breath before continuing in a calmer
voice. "What happened Cordy? What made you think he still loved Buffy?
Why?"

Cordelia stared at Willow; shocked to hear Willow calling her by the
nickname they had used when they were friends. She was silent, feeling
hopeful that maybe they could find a way to be friends once again. That
they could forgive her for leaving, if they knew that she had thought
she was doing the right thing.
She opened her mouth to finally tell someone the secret she had been
carrying for so long when the doctor walked back into the room. She
stared at him, worried suddenly that there was something really wrong
with her. Holding her breath she waited for him to speak.

"Well Ms. Chase, it looks like congratulations are in order." The doctor
smiled at her as he spoke. "You're pregnant."

Cordelia stared at him in horror, her mind flashing back to the night
she had spent with Xander on the beach. She let out a small gasp, her
hand reaching down to cover her stomach. Forgetting that Willow was in
the room, or that her life was a mess she touched her stomach, amazed
that she was being given a piece of Xander to keep with her forever.

The doctor wrote her a prescription for vitamins and told her to take it
easy for the next few days before telling her she could go home.  She
turned then to see Willow sitting with a shocked expression on her face.

The redhead slowly picked up her magazine and purse and stood. "I'll
wait outside while you get dressed. I can drive you home."

Cordelia looked at her in surprise, before speaking. 'Willow..."

"Don't." Willow held up her hand to stop her from speaking. "I don't
want to hear your explanations. I can't believe I almost thought that
you really did love Xander, that you still loved Xander. I'm sure you
and the father will be very happy."

Cordelia watched Willow walk from the room before whispering softly,
"No. We won't."
*******

The drive home was silent as Cordelia stared out of the window, trying
not to think of what lay ahead of her.  She shifted uncomfortably in the
seat, desperate to be alone and to be able to think. Her hand reached
down to touch her stomach, holding her hand over it as if she could
protect the baby from all the mistakes its mother had made. Her eyes
filled with tears as she thought of her child growing up without ever
knowing its father. She toyed with the thought of telling Xander for a
moment before realizing he would never believe the child was his. And
what could she say to him, that she found him drunk on the beach and
took advantage of him? Even if he believed her, he would never want to
be her baby's father. Sighing she leaned her head back against the seat
wishing Willow would drive faster.

She kept her eyes closed until she felt the car slow and finally stop.
Her hand on the door handle she turned back to Willow, wondering if the
red-head was going to say anything at all to her, but Willow's eyes
stared straight ahead, her face a blank mask. Cordelia slid her legs out
of the car, carefully getting to her feet. Her hand still on the door
she turned back to Willow. "Thank you. For driving me home and for not
letting me go to the hospital alone."

She stood straight, preparing to shut the door when Willow spoke. "Why
did you move back here?"

Cordelia froze, her stomach tightening. "I don't know. Because it was
home, because the best times in my life were here. Maybe because I
thought I could apologize enough, could make you guys understand that I
did love all of you." Cordelia swallowed, the sun shining down on her
forcing her to squint to see Willow. When the other girl said nothing
Cordelia continued. "When I got your letter, well, that was when I
realized how wrong I had been, how misguided. I wish there was some way
I could make you understand that the reason I left had nothing to do
with how I felt about all of you. Especially Xander. I loved him then,
and I'll always love him."

"You love him so much that you're barely divorced and already pregnant.
What, did you give Xander a few months to forgive you and then moved
on?" Willow stared out the window as she spoke, refusing to meet
Cordelia's eyes. "How could you do this Cordelia? Xander was getting
better. He was happy again, finally moving on and then you came back.
And now you want him to watch you have a baby?"

"No." Cordelia choked out, her eyes filling with tears. "I didn't mean
to do anything to Xander. I meant to make it better."

"Whose baby is it Cordelia?" Willow spoke coldly.

Cordelia stood silently for a moment, her thoughts spinning wildly,
knowing the truth was out of the question. She stumbled over the words,
trying to find the answer that would hurt Xander the least. "It's...it's
Doug's,  my ex-husbands. Call it the modern way to celebrate your
divorce."

Willow turned to her then, her eyes shiny with tears. "Cordelia, please
leave town. Don't do this to him."

Cordelia stepped back from the car, reality crashing down on her. Willow
was right, she couldn't stay here, couldn't do it to Xander or to her
child. "I'll leave before anyone can tell I'm pregnant Willow. I
promise." She pushed the car door shut and walked away from the car with
her head high and tears streaming down her cheeks.

Letting herself into her apartment, she dropped the keys onto the floor
and sunk down beside them, sobbing brokenly for the father her baby
would never know. Holding her stomach she apologized to the new life
growing there for the mistakes she had made.

*******

Xander was sitting in the library when Willow walked in, her face pale
and sad. He sat up a little straighter in his chair expecting her to
tell him that there was yet another apocalypse headed their way. Instead
she threw herself into a chair, sighing loudly. Xander sat back, sure
now that whatever was upsetting her wasn't catastrophic.  He smiled
openly at her, "Where's my sunny Willow?"

Willow half-smiled at him, obviously struggling to put her dark thoughts
aside. "How are you Xander?"

Xander looked at her worried face and realized that it was because of
him. "I'm good Will. Better than good. No drinking if that's what you're
asking. I'm working on a new book, this one's about this crazy vampire
who crashes parent-teacher night. Sound familiar?"

Willow grinned at him. "Our old buddy Spike. That should be a good one.
Can't wait to read your take on the night."

"What?" Xander grinned back at her, his face innocent, "You mean how our
fearless hero set himself up as an offering to Spike and was nearly
killed, but managed to outsmart him?"

Willow laughed, "I thought Angel set that up, and saved you. And isn't
Buffy the heroine?"

Xander laughed with her, remembering that night and amazed that they
could laugh about it. "It's funny isn't it Will? I mean we've faced
death so many times and we can still laugh about it." He leaned back in
his chair, remembering when fighting with Buffy had seemed like an
adventure.

Willow sat quietly for a while, then clearing her throat and staring at
the table she questioned him. "What about Cordelia? How are you doing on
that front?"

Xander felt his stomach drop, but quickly recovered. "Better. If I could
just stop having flashes of that dream..." His voice trailed off,
leaving the sentence unfinished.

Willow considered him carefully before speaking again. "It must have
been some dream."

"I was drunk that night Will. After you told me she was back I got
drunk." Xander stared at Willow, waiting for her to yell at him, or
worse, pity him.

Willow smiled knowingly before replying, her voice soft. "But you
haven't had a drink since that night."

Xander started to answer her, but realized it wasn't a question. He
nodded quickly before speaking again. "I can't get it out of my head."

"Do you want to tell me about it?" Willow queried.

Xander looked at his best friend, trying to decide how much he should
share. He was silent for a minute before deciding he had to talk about
it with someone before it drove him crazy. "I could feel her next to me,
even smell her. She looked so sad and alone as she told me that she had
never wanted to leave. Then I have this picture of my head in her lap
and her stroking my hair. And then I can feel her lips on mine, and her
body next to me." Xander stood abruptly, knocking his chair over. He
started pacing around the library, the words falling out of him. "It
seems so real Willow, even now. Like it's a memory and not a dream. I
mean I was drunk that night, and probably hallucinating, but when I woke
on the beach that morning I wasn't even wearing clothes." He turned to
Willow, expecting to see pity on her face, but she just smiled softly at
him. He walked over to the chair, pulling it upright and sitting down
again. "That's why I decided drinking is no longer for me. I was
drinking to escape the memories, not make new ones."

Willow nodded her head, then she pushed her chair back and stood up.
Walking over to him she wrapped her arms around him and held him close.
"I'm sorry Xander. I wish that it had turned out all right for you and
Cordy, that she had been who we thought she was. But I think that you
need to move on. Forget the dream." She pulled away from him and walked
slowly back to her chair, her eyes still showing her worry.

"I am moving on Will. I've even got a date for the Charity Auction.
Proud of me?" Xander smiled at her as he spoke, his voice teasing.

"For the Charity Auction? Won't Cordelia be there?" Willow spoke
quickly, her voice rising as she looked at him.

"Isn't that a plus? I mean, she seems to think she can come back and say
she's sorry about everything. I just want to show her that I'm fine
without her." Xander's voice was defensive as he watched Willow
carefully.

The red-head looked undecided for a moment before nodding her head. "I
guess it's for the best. Now I really have to get some work done. I was
delayed this morning."

Xander took his cue and stood up. "Okay, got the hint. I'm leaving."

He turned to look at her when he got to the door. She was just sitting
there, her head in her hands, looking like the weight of the world had
just dropped onto her shoulders. He stared at her for another moment,
suddenly sure that all of the worry on her face wasn't directed at him,
but before he could decide whether or not to try and talk to her about
it she got up from the table and walked slowly to the stacks.
*********


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-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "Andrea Newbery" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Best Intentions, (10/18)
Date: 16 Jan 1999 17:10:31 PST

August 3, 2006

Willow stared down at the man on the floor after Cordelia left the room,
her thoughts jumbled. She couldn't believe Cordelia had married this
monster, or that she had lied about him being the father. Willow had
known when Cordelia had claimed the baby was his that she wasn't being
honest, but it had been easier to believe than anything else she could
think of. Turning she looked at Buffy, knowing she had to do something.
Hearing the police heading down the hallway she whispered to Buffy,
"Don't tell Xander what he said."

Buffy looked surprised at that, but nodded her head quickly as the
police entered the room with Xander nowhere in sight. Willow rapidly
filled the police in on what she had seen and who the man was. She told
them that Cordelia had been so afraid that she had run. After promising
to find Cordelia and bring her down to the station to give a statement
they watched as the police took Doug away.  Willow stood looking at the
floor until Buffy spoke. "Kay, what exactly is going on?"

Willow looked at her best friend, her eyes full of tears. "I'm not sure,
but I think it's long past time we found out."

Buffy looked sad for a moment before she walked towards the door. "So,
the library?"

"The library." Willow agreed as they headed out of the room.

Willow went immediately to the computer as soon as she entered the room,
quickly logging on and beginning her task. Buffy wandered around the
library and Willow could almost hear the wheels turning in her head.
Finally the Slayer walked over to her and looked over her shoulder.

"Hospital records? Cordelia's records? What exactly are you thinking?"
Buffy inquired.

"I'm thinking that I'm so not underage anymore and if I ever get caught
you're going to have to perform your first jailbreak." Willow attempted
to joke as her eyes skimmed quickly over the file.  Finding the
information she was looking for she sat back in her chair, the truth
finally sinking in. "Oh God. What did she do?"

"Who? Cordelia? Why do I feel that I'm totally out of this loop?" Buffy
leaned in closer to the computer screen, trying to figure out what
Willow had found. "So she's pregnant, we already knew that. Her crazy
ex-husband told us, remember?"

"I think it's Xander's baby." Willow spoke quietly.

"Okay, now I know I'm out of the loop."  Buffy said, walking over to a
table and sitting down. "I think it's time for us to have a little talk
about Cordelia and what exactly you think is going on. Last time I
checked Cordelia and Xander weren't exactly on speaking terms, let
alone...well, making babies."

Willow slowly shut down the computer and walked over to sit across from
her best friend. "I think we were wrong about Cordelia."

"I got that part." Buffy said, her face sad again. "But I still don't
get why she left if she loved him so much. And why you think this baby
is Xander's."

Willow rubbed her forehead, trying to process all the information she
knew. "Xander told me about this dream that's been haunting him. It was
about him and Cordelia being together. He was really drunk, but he says
that it felt so real. And I think maybe it was. The timing is right; the
date of conception was the exact day Xander had the dream. I don't think
that's a coincidence."

"Oh God." Buffy whispered; her face pale. "So you think Cordelia was on
the beach that night?"

"I do." Willow said quietly. "She still loves him, she would never have
left him alone on the beach drunk."

"She really does still love him." Buffy pounded her hands down on the
table, suddenly angry. "So why did she do it? Why did she leave him?"

"I don't know." Willow said, "I was with her when she found out she was
pregnant. She fainted and I went with her in the ambulance. When she
woke up we talked. She said she had always loved him, but I didn't
believe her." Willow spoke sadly, her expression full of guilt. "She
asked me why we never tried to find out why she was acting so mean. She
wanted to know why we all just assumed the worst of her so easily. Why
did we do that Buffy?"

"Because she used to be so mean to us." Buffy spoke softly, her tone
unsure.

"That's what she said too. That the two years we were true friends meant
nothing to us, because we had just been waiting for her to change back."
Willow was crying silently now, the tears streaming down her face.

"But even if we did that, if we were wrong to let her leave so easily
that still doesn't explain why she left in the first place."

"She said she thought Xander would be happy without her. And you Buffy.
She said she thought you and Xander would be happy. I don't know why she
thought that, but she said she wanted to make it easy for you two to be
together and that if she was a bitch then you wouldn't feel guilty."
Willow stared at Buffy, her face confused.

The Slayer stared at the table for a long moment, her face going pale.
She slowly lifted her eyes to Willow, her face full of guilt. "Oh God
Willow."

Willow watched the emotions that ran across Buffy's face and her stomach
sank as she began to believe that their failure of Cordelia had been
much more than just not asking her what was wrong. She spoke softly to
the Slayer. "Buffy?"

Buffy began to speak quietly, almost to herself. "I was so lonely and
missing Angel and Xander was comforting me." She paused, her eyes filled
with tears. "And I kissed him, only for a second before he pushed me
away. I didn't do it to hurt Cordelia, I was just so sad. I never
dreamed that she knew, but she must have seen us. It happened just
before she changed, but I never dreamed, never thought... I mean she was
waiting for us outside the cemetery, she seemed fine. Why didn't she say
something?"

"I don't know." Willow spoke loudly, her hands slamming into the table
in front of Buffy. "Why didn't you ever tell me? Why didn't you suspect
that she knew something? Why didn't Xander?"

"I don't know." Buffy's voice was slightly hysterical. "I felt so guilty
after I did that, I just blocked it out of my mind." Looking at Willow
she pleaded with her to understand. "I never thought she would do what
she did. If she knew, I thought she would have come after both me and
Xander, ready to kill us."

Willow nodded her head, suddenly almost too tired to continue the
conversation. "Cause Cordelia would never do anything unselfish. Even
after everything that we had been through, we still didn't believe she
really cared about us."

"And I didn't feel as guilty because she was being such a bitch. I
didn't even consider that she knew." Buffy whispered; her face full of
shame.

Willow reached across the table and grabbed Buffy's hand. "We have to
find Xander. He has to know why she left and that she has always loved
him."

Buffy nodded her head, one tear sliding down her cheek. "And that she's
having his baby." Buffy smiled sadly before speaking. "Xander and
Cordelia having a baby. It seems strange."

"What?"

Buffy and Willow spun around, shocked to see Xander in the doorway of
the library. They jumped up from the table, each trying to figure out
what to say to him, how to explain it to him. Willow spoke first, her
voice calm. "Xander, we need to talk. Come and sit down."

Xander glared at her, his body tense. "Why would you think Cordelia was
having my baby?"

Willow walked closer to him, trying to calm him with her presence. Buffy
hung back, the guilt she felt over kissing him fresh in her mind again.
Xander backed further away from Willow, standing almost outside of the
library, his eyes moving from one to the other. Willow cleared her
throat and whispered softly to him, "Xander, the dream. It was real."

Xander stared at Willow in disbelief, his mouth hanging open. Then the
anger filled his eyes again. "That bitch."

"No." Buffy and Willow spoke in unison. Willow glanced at Buffy before
speaking again. "She loves you Xander. She has always loved you. It was
just a horrible mistake. We all made a horrible mistake."

Xander looked at them like they were crazy before turning around and
walking away. Buffy and Willow stood there, both of them frozen with
indecision. Willow moved first, her eyes meeting Buffy's. "He'll be
back, he just needs to process what he heard."

Buffy nodded; her face unsure. "So should we try and find Cordelia?"

Willow sat down slowly at the computer, her shoulders slumping. "I'll
look up her address."
********


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-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "Andrea Newbery" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Best Intentions, (9/18)
Date: 16 Jan 1999 17:09:51 PST

Title: Best Intentions
Author: Andrea
e-mail: [e-mail]
disclaimer: These characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant
Enemy, the WB, etc. They are not mine.
spoilers: Everything up to the end of season two.
distribution: Sure, just let me know.
summary: Xander/Cordelia. This fic is set in the same timeline as
Christine's amazing story, 'The Wildest Times in the World' although
technically this story takes place before that one. If you haven't read
it, e-mail me and I'll send it to you.
Feedback: Please. Good, bad, anything.
Thanks to Christine, for writing the story that started this, and for
helping me when I got stuck and for thinking up the title. And there's
still more I could thank you for. :)

August 3, 2006

Cordelia put the finishing touches on her hair, satisfied that she
looked as good as she was going to. The dark circles under her eyes were
well hidden by make-up and the gauntness in her cheeks actually gave her
a more dramatic look. Her hand reached down to touch the slight swell of
her stomach as she spoke softly to her child. "When are you going to let
Mommy keep down something she eats?" Laughing at herself she walked out
into the kitchen, amazed again at how the baby had erased the loneliness
from her life. She looked around at the boxes cluttering her apartment
and felt a momentary pang of sorrow. She turned away, refusing to think
of anything but getting through the auction and then leaving this town
behind her. Her baby was going to have a happy life without all the
horrors Sunnydale had to offer. Grabbing her coat she headed out into
the cool evening.

She drove slowly towards Sunnydale High School, not wanting to get there
any sooner than she had to. But this would be her last chance to see
Xander, her last look at her old friends. She swallowed back the tears
that seemed to come over her all the time now. This is it, she told
herself as she pulled into the parking lot, it's almost done now. She
slid out of the car after taking a quick look around for any monsters
that might be lurking around. Nothing seemed to be there so she slammed
the door behind her, catching a quick glimpse of Buffy hidden in the
shadows before she disappeared again. Cordelia smiled softly before
walking towards the building; the Slayer was on the job.

Walking up to Harmony she quickly got to work on last minute details,
making sure everything was ready to go in the order the program showed.
She caught a quick glimpse of Xander laughing with a beautiful blonde
girl and her heart stopped for a moment. Turning away she ignored the
jealousy and tried to be happy that Xander was moving on. Her eyes
caught with Willow's for a moment and she almost thought she saw
sympathy in the red-head's eyes before she turned away.

She was just finishing up her work when a hand snaked around her
shoulders. Spinning around with a rude comment on her lips she stared
open mouthed into the cold eyes of her ex-husband.

"Hey honey, miss me?" His breath washed over her, the smell of alcohol
making her stomach roll.

She backed away slowly, her eyes roaming the room to see if anyone had
noticed them, but everyone was heading out to watch the auction.  Her
face hard, she spoke quietly, her voice angry. "Doug. What are you doing
here?"

He grinned at her; his eyes still cold. "What? I couldn't just want to
see my wife?"

"I'm not your wife." She spoke quickly, hearing the applause as the
auction started. Looking around she realized the room had emptied except
for them. She looked back to her ex-husband, at the cold rage in his
eyes and she began to be afraid.

"Well, there is that." He leered at her, his hands grabbing her arms.
"But we could fix that Cordelia."

She tried to pull her arms free, but he held her too tightly. "What do
you mean?" Her voice was shaky and she cursed herself for letting him
see her fear.

"Father's going to cut me off. So I need you back." The anger on his
face was frightening to see, a child's anger at being told what to do in
a grown man's body.

"I'm not coming back. Ever." Cordelia whispered the words, her voice
disgusted. "You're a drunk and a cheat and you don't love me."

"But I love money Cordelia." He spoke calmly now, his fingers digging
into her arms.

"I can give you money." She hated the fear in her voice, the placating
tone she was using. She wanted to hit him and scream at him, but the
gnawing in her stomach told her that wouldn't go over well. She just
needed to calm him down and get away. She would leave Sunnydale tonight,
leave everything behind and just run until he could never find her.
Silently she vowed to offer him whatever he wanted in order to get a
chance to escape.

"But not enough Cordelia. Not enough. Your little dress-making business
may satisfy you, but I want more. Besides, you owe me." His voice went
from angry to petulant as he spoke.

"I owe you?" Her voice wavered as she struggled to remain calm.

"Because you loved another man when you married me. And you never
stopped loving him." His voice was smooth as he tried to look hurt.

"You didn't care that I loved him then and you don't care now. You only
care about the money."

He glared at her, his fingers digging deeper into her arms before
relaxing a bit. Shrugging his shoulders he answered her. "Well, it was
worth a try. But you are coming back with me Cordelia. Tonight."

She struggled vainly to get loose from his grip, her heart beating
wildly, but he just held her tighter. Cordelia finally stopped
struggling and just stared at him, unable to think. He took her silence
as submission and grabbing her by the waist, he pulled her to him, his
mouth covering hers. Her arms now free she pushed at him, desperate to
get his mouth off hers. His arms held her even tighter and she was
suddenly terrified that he would hurt the baby so when his tongue pushed
into her mouth she bit him as hard as she could. He pushed her away, his
fist shooting out and connecting solidly with her stomach.

She fell to the ground grasping her middle as the pain shot through her.
Tears falling down her face she looked up at him, her voice panicked.
"Please. Please, I'm pregnant. Please don't hurt my baby."

He froze; his face a mask of rage. Backing away from her he stared at
her. "Pregnant?"

Cordelia held her stomach, not caring about anything but keeping her
baby safe. She looked up at him and saw the rage growing. "Please. I'll
come with you. I'll marry you again, but just don't hurt my baby." Her
voice was choked with sobs.

He moved closer again, his voice louder. "Pregnant?"

Cordelia struggled to get to her feet, the pain in her stomach rolling
through her body in waves. She glanced towards the door and saw a flash
of red-hair moving away.  She prayed that it had been Willow and that
she would get help.

Her tormentor was growing more agitated by the second, the liquor
feeding his rage. He grabbed her by the throat, his eyes wild. "You're
pregnant. Cordelia the ice queen actually let someone fuck her?"

Cordelia felt his hands tightening around her neck and suddenly knew
that if someone didn't get there soon she was going to die. She
whispered softly, "Please. Please don't."

His hands tightened around her neck even more and the world started to
fade away. From somewhere in the darkness she thought she heard Xander's
voice and then she was suddenly free. Her ex-husband was swinging wildly
at Xander, who avoided his punches easily. She watched Xander fight her
ex-husband; easily subduing him with a solid punch to his stomach that
had him falling to the floor in agony.

Buffy ran into the room then, followed by a panting Willow.  Xander
turned to them, speaking quietly. "Not a demon Buffy, I got him. Can you
watch him while I go call the cops?"

Buffy nodded her head, going over to stand beside the moaning man.
Cordelia stared at all of them before her eyes fastened on Xander. He
met her eyes for a moment and she choked out a thank you. He looked at
her for another moment before he spoke, his voice icy. "Don't think I
did it for you.  I would stop someone from hitting a dog." Spinning
around Xander walked out of the room leaving Cordelia staring after him,
her heart shattered once again.

She pulled herself together as her husband started mumbling something.
Her heart slammed into her throat as she realized what he was about to
say a second before he said it.

"So dear wife, that was the infamous Alex Harris, the guy you spent
every night crying over. He doesn't seem to like you much." His voice
was full of pain, but also something very close to happiness.

Cordelia glanced quickly at Buffy and Willow, who were staring at her
ex-husband with identical expressions of disbelief. Cordelia prayed that
the police would arrive quickly, before he remembered about the baby.
She answered him slowly, her voice much calmer than she felt. "No, he
doesn't like me very much."

Her ex looked up at the blonde-haired girl who stood over him, looking
very much like he was thinking of making a break for it. Cordelia spoke
quickly, "I wouldn't move if I were you, she's much tougher than she
looks."

He glanced up at Buffy again and something in her expression must have
backed up Cordelia's words because he didn't move. He spoke to Buffy
then, his voice conversational, "She blamed the break-up on me, because
I drank a little and liked to party. But she was the one who loved
another man. She was my wife because she was punishing herself for
failing him. Isn't that nice? And when I come and tell her that I'll
give her another chance she tells me no."

Buffy and Willow were silent, their faces shocked. Cordelia spoke
quietly, trying to keep him from talking anymore, "You came to order me
to marry you again so your father wouldn't cut you off. The same reason
you married me in the first place."

He laughed harshly before shrugging his shoulders, "Oops. Forgot about
that." He looked back at Buffy, his face full of charm again. "And now I
find out she's pregnant. I'm must admit that I'm a little curious about
who would sleep with the frigid bitch." He turned to her, his face
bitter. "Whose is it Cordelia? The butcher, the baker, the candlestick
maker? Or did you convince Alex Harris to give it one more go? I take it
from his disgust that you weren't much better for him than you were for
me."

Cordelia stared horrified as Willow turned to her. The redhead's face
was uncertain, but then realization dawned. " Oh my God, Cordelia?"

Cordelia's head swam as her lie was uncovered. She suddenly couldn't
handle one more word, or look of hate so she turned and ran from the
room, leaving Buffy and Willow to clean up her mess.
*******


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From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Torn (9/??)
Date: 17 Jan 1999 00:16:18 EST

TITLE: Torn (9/??)
AUTHOR: Danielle Loughlin aka XandersGirl
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK: Always welcome
DISTRIBUTION: If I said you could archive it already, go right ahead.
Otherwise, please ask. I'll say yes, I just like to know where my work goes.
SUMMARY: Willow's stuck between Xander and Oz
SPOILERS: through "Lover's Walk"
RATING: PG
DISCLAIMER: Willow & Co are Evil Joss's & Co. Not mine. Although I sure wish
Xander was. Don't sue.

I'll be getting this story up on my website as soon as I can. If you're
missing earlier parts, just e-mail me and I'll be glad to send them to you.

Torn - Part 9

Oz was alone in his room, idly staring at the clock, watching the numbers
click by. It was well after midnight. But he couldn't sleep. He couldn't even
pick up his guitar and play, which was an action which always soothed his
frazzled nerves and helped him work out whatever he was feeling. But he
couldn't do it right now. All he could do was sit. And think.

About Willow. Very little else was on his mind these days. He could only think
about two things. Her, and her and Xander.

He wanted so badly to simply take her words at face value and believe her when
she said it was over between them. He knew Willow loved him. But he also knew
Xander had such a huge part of Willow. A bigger part than he could ever hope
for. It was hard for Willow to let Xander, and therefore that piece of her,
go. It was never going to be over between the two of them. He could see that.
It wasn't something he liked seeing.

Oz knew he should be the noble one, the good guy. Step aside. Tell Willow to
be with Xander. Let her be happy. Because all he wanted was for Willow to be
happy.

But Oz was letting the selfish part of him rule his thoughts right now. He
wanted Willow to be happy with *him*. Not Xander. He loved her so much. All he
wanted was her love in return. But maybe it was too much to ask for. She said,
she promised she was his. That all her "stuff" was for him and him only. And
Oz knew Willow really meant those words when she said them. She hadn't been
lying. But Oz knew that Willow didn't know what she was saying. Well, she knew
what she was *saying* saying, but she didn't know she couldn't do it. Oz could
see it. Willow could never give up Xander. And it was unfair of him to ask her
to.

And he wasn't asking her to, per se. He didn't want to destroy the years-old
friendship between her and Xander. They had a special thing going. Oz could
see that. But what he didn't want was Willow doing the smoochie thing with
Xander while she was still calling herself his girlfriend. But even Oz could
see it. He didn't know quite what was going on, but recently, the connection
between Willow and Xander . . it was more than just teenage hormones. He could
tell. This could be the real thing. And the only thing in the way . . was him.
Oz sighed and closed his eyes. He couldn't see any way around it. He could
either continue his relationship with Willow and always be unsure of her love
or feeling like he never had all of her, or he could let her go.

But letting her go was going to hurt so much. He loved her. Willow was so
different. But it was different good. She was warm and she was sweet and she
was intelligent and she was sensitive and she was all those good things rolled
up into one pretty red-headed package. She was the kind of girl Oz always
dreamed he'd meet. And he had. He wished he'd never seen Willow at the
Cultural dance last year. No he didn't. He really didn't wish that. He
couldn't imagine his life without Willow in it. She made it all so much
better. Everything he felt, he felt it twice as much because Willow shared it
with him.

But now everything felt wrong, uncertain. He didn't want to always doubt
Willow, to
wonder if she was thinking of him or of Xander. He also didn't want Willow to
play the
'what if' game with herself. If she was always asking herself what if I'd been
with Xander, she'd never be completely happy with Oz.

He knew what he had to do. But god, he loved her so much. This was going to
hurt.

He picked up the phone and dialed.

*****

Willow picked up the phone on the second ring. "Hello?" she asked, hoping it
would be Oz.

"Hey." It was. "Hope I didn't wake you up."

"You didn't. I was awake, on the computer. What's up?" Willow asked.

There was a few seconds of silence, and those few seconds immediately alerted
Willow to the fact that Oz had something on his mind. "Oz?" Willow asked
again.

"Willow?"

"Oz? What is it?" Oz's demeanor had her worried.

"I think I have to break up with you," Oz said.

Willow audibly gasped. "Oz? Why?" she said, tears rising in her eyes.

"It's . . hard to explain."

"Was it me? Was it something I did?" Willow asked. Then it occurred to her.
"Is it
Xander?"

Oz's hesitation told her she'd hit the nail right on the head.

"It's over with me and Xander!" Willow said. "Please believe me."

"Willow, I do believe you. But I also know you're not going to be able to stop
loving
him."

"I love *you*" Willow protested.

"I know you do. I love you too. But I can't be with you with the ghost of
Xander always in my head . . and maybe yours. I don't want you to always
wonder 'what if''?" Oz explained.

"But there won't be what if . . I already know who I want to be with. I want
to be with
*you*, Oz. I love you."

"I can't do it, Will," Oz said sadly.

"Oz, please?" Willow said, desperate. She couldn't lose him. Not after
everything she'd gone through to get him back. "I'll do whatever you need,
I'll stop hanging around with Xander."

"I won't ask you to do that," Oz said. "It'd be unfair to you. And I guess to
him too."

"Oz . .don't do this," Willow begged.

"I have to. Goodbye Willow. I'll see you tomorrow."

Before Willow had a chance to respond, the dial tone buzzed softly in her ear.
She slowly replaced the receiver.

She looked around her room, trying to catch her breath, which had shortened.
It was all she could do to keep from breaking down in sobs. She felt frozen. I
lost him. I lost him.

She was overwhelmed with that feeling of lonliness she'd woken up to after the
haunting dream the other night. The gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach
was the same. It had come true. She was alone.

Willow let out a stifled sob. There was only one thing she wanted to do. When
she waslittle, whenever she was upset or scared or just lonely, she'd climb
out her balcony window and run the block and a half to Xander's house. He'd
kept a ladder outside his bedroom window and Willow had used to to climb up
and sneak into Xander's bedroom in the pitch blackness of the night. And she'd
climb into bed with him and they'd sleep like that for the rest of the night,
the two of them in Xander's

She hadn't done that in years though. And looking back at it, she realized it
was a miracle she hadn't been killed by vampires. Willow thought about it only
two seconds longer, and then she was out the balcony door.

*****

Willow stepped through the place in the chain-link fence at the edge of the
Harris
property where the fence had come apart from the post. Years ago, she and
Xander had tugged the opening wider so that they could squeeze through it. She
quickly made her way through the backyard and around to the side of the house.
She looked up at Xander's bedroom. A faint glow was coming from the window. He
probably had the TV on. She tore her gaze away from the window and looked
around on the ground. Yes, it was still there. A few feet away, slightly
covered with weeds, was the ladder. As quietly as she could she lifted the
ladder and leaned it against the house. The ladder seemed to creak loudly as
she made her way up. She came to Xander's window and looked in.

Xander was on his bed, his back to her. She couldn't see his face. The TV was
on an
infomercial on some sort of instant spaghetti maker. He had probably fallen
asleep.
Willow reached for the sash of the window and pushed up. The window opened
easily. A few moments later, Willow dropped softly to the rug of Xander's
room.

Wait a second . . rug? Willow hadn't even known Xander had a rug. She looked
around the room incredulously. It was clean. He'd cleaned his room. She
managed to stifle a laugh.

She crept over to Xander's bed. He was asleep. His chest rose and fell
silently in time with his deep, even breathing. His dark hair fell from his
forehead into his eyes. He looked so peaceful.

Willow noticed he had something clasped in one hand. A picture. She gently
pried it out of his grasp, taking care not to wake him. It was a picture of
her. Her and Xander. Right before Buffy had arrived in Sunnydale. They were
sitting on the front stoop of Willow's house. Xander had his arm slung around
Willow's shoulder and Willow had leaned her head against his chest,
comfortably settled in the crook of his arm. Both were grinning. Willow smiled
at the memory. She looked over at Xander. Still sleeping.

She stepped out of her shoes and lifted the corner of the covers. Wordlessly,
she slipped into bed beside him, curling up against his warm body. Xander
didn't move. She reached for his hand and laced her fingers through his.
Within minutes, she was sound asleep.

*****

Xander opened his eyes. Something had awakened him from his sleep. It was
still dark and the clock on his nightstand read 2:43 a.m. He started to roll
over.

There was somebody in bed with him. He froze.

Then he caught a glimpse of fiery red hair and relaxed. Willow. He smiled down
at his sleeping friend, remembering how she used to always come over late at
night like this. Willow's hair had fallen into her face, and she had a slight
smile on her lips. Xander reached down and tucked the stray strands of hair
behind her ear. Slowly, he settled himself back under the covers, taking
Willow into his arms. She faced away from him, and he could bury his face in
her hair. Letting out a long sigh, Xander gently kissed the top of Willow's
head.

"I love you, Willow," he whispered, before closing his eyes and drifting back
to sleep.

*****

Willow worked to keep her face perfectly motionless and her breathing even,
continuing to let Xander think she was asleep. He'd woken her up when he
touched her hair, but she hadn't opened her eyes, waiting to see what he would
do.

Her heart had started pounding when she heard his whispered words. After a few
moments, when it seemed Xander had gone back to sleep, without even thinking
about what she was saying, Willow whispered back to him. "I love you, too."

End Part Nine



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: [e-mail] (C. Catherine)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: My Moira (12/?)
Date: 16 Jan 1999 21:10:11 -0800

TITLE: My Moira #12
AUTHOR: Taygeta
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK:  Very muchly wanted (bad or good...whatever the complaint)
DISTRIBUTION: Sure, just tell me first.
RATING: PG
KEYWORDS: Future.  Semi-Buffy/Xander fanfic, but more Future Slayer.
DISCLAIMER:  The characters portrayed in this fanfic and any such
reference to Buffy the Vampire Slayer television series belong to their
creator, Joss Whedon, and their owners, Mutant Enemy productions, Kuzui
Productions, Sanddollar Productions, and 20th Century Fox. In other
words, they do not belong to me.  Copyright infringement not intended.
FUTURE INSTALLMENTS: Since the list is closing down, I'd just like to
mention that any future installments will definitely be found at the "My
Moira" poriton of my site:
http://www.geocities.com/televisioncity/network/1038/MM.html
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
My Moira #12
By: Taygeta

"So youngàso beautifulàso like her motherà" whispered Angelus in the
shadows of the cemetery.

The dust rose and fell when Moira stumbled and inadvertently staked the
vampire in the heart.

"Wow," said Moira to Cordelia, who had been following her from a
distance, "I wasn't even aiming for that."

Her Watcher folded her arms across her chest, "You can't always depend on
lucky breaks to help you through your vampire troubles and what if next
time, it's not a vampire?"

"ThenàIàfall over with a machete," the slayer said with her smile that
was a strange essence of her mother and her father.

"Moiraà" Cordelia said with a sigh, "and I thought your Dad was bad when
it came to making jokes."

"Well, Mom always said that I had Dad's humor."

"And that's a good thing?" a voice said questioningly from the shadows.

They armed themselves with their stakes and crosses and the slayer said
cautiously, "Who's there?"

Cordelia stopped her protΘgΘ from preceding further, recognizing the
voice with an almost nauseating wave of remembrance, "No, Moiraàstand
back."

"You better do as your watcher says, Slayeràyou don't wanna mess with
meà" Angelus replied as he came from behind the tree in full vampirical
form.

"Who are you?"

The demonic eyes of the long-immortal vampire met the watcher's eyes and
grinned with the realization that Moira still did not know who he was in
her future and who he had been in her mother's past.

Laughing softly as he turned back to the slayer, "Myàmyàaren't we the
innocent.  Really, CordeliaàI would have at least thought Buffy would
have used me as a pinnacle example for abstinence."

"Angel, this is neither the time nor the placeà" Cordelia replied
stiffly.

"And I was never one to defy prophecy, was I?" he chuckled, "200 some odd
years in this body, and I never once defied prophecyàmaybe it's time I
started?"

"Prophecy?"  Moira asked in a confused tone to her watcher.

But Angelus answered in her name, "Prophecy Girlà vampire
slayeràheadstrongàso much like your mother, you wouldn't believeà"

The wrinkle on her forehead deepened, "Who are you?"

"Your destinyà" he said, and with that, he disappeared back into the
cloak of darkness.

"Cordelia?" the slayer questioned her watcher again.

She gazed at her slayer for a moment and sighed, "Let's go home, Moira."

*~*~*

"I still don't understand why you can't tell me," she said exasperatingly
when Cordelia stopped in front of the Summers-Harris home.

"I can't tell you because it's not my place to tell you.  I have to tell
you what he represents to you as a slayer, but before I can do that, you
have to know what he represented to your mom and only she can tell you
that."

"So, what do you expect me to do?" she said, "What am I suppose to say?
'  Hi, Momàwho's Angel?'"

"Moiraà" sighed Cordelia.

The slayer followed her sigh and replied, "FineàI'll ask her.  Good
night, Cordelia."

"Good night," she replied and as she saw her slayer walk towards the
house, "and good luckà"

*~*~*

"Mom?"  Moira asked looking up from her books on her bed.

"Some late night studying?"  Buffy said with surprise as she walked into
her daughter's room.

"A little history homework to finish, that's all," she replied.

"Well, I'm glad that you're keeping with your school work, in spite of
all thisàstuff," her mom said.  She kissed her on the cheek and perchance
a glance at the latest copy of 21st Era Teen on top of her history book.
She took it up and continued, "School work?"

"It strengthens my education," Moira justified.

Buffy skimmed the cover, "18 ways to tell if he loves you."  Her daughter
smiled sheepishly as she handed her back to the magazine, "Finish your
work and get sleep, huh?"

"Yes, Mom.  Good night," she said as her mother walked out the room.
Contemplating for a moment, she called out, "Mom?"

Buffy turned around, "Yeah, honey?"

"Who's Angel?"


___________________________________________________________________
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From: "Andrea Newbery" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Best Intentions, (11/18)
Date: 17 Jan 1999 10:39:59 PST

Title: Best Intentions
Author: Andrea
e-mail: [e-mail]
disclaimer: These characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant
Enemy, the WB, etc. They are not mine.
spoilers: Everything up to the end of season two.
distribution: Sure, just let me know.
rating: PG-13, I think. There's a little swearing in this part.
summary: Xander/Cordelia. This fic is set in the same timeline as
Christine's amazing story, 'The Wildest Times in the World' although
technically this story takes place before that one. If you haven't read
it, e-mail me and I'll send it to you.
Feedback: Please. Good, bad, anything.
Thanks to Christine, for writing the story that started this, and for
helping me when I got stuck and for thinking up the title. And there's
still more I could thank you for. :)



August 3, 2006

Xander drove aimlessly around town, the knowledge that Cordelia was
carrying his child pushing out all other rational thought. He wasn't
sure if he was looking for her to talk to her or to kill her. How could
she do that to him? Sleep with him on the beach and then run away before
morning? His anger built as he realized that she had never had any
intention of telling him. If Willow hadn't figured it out, he would
never have known his child, never even have known he had a child. The
rage was almost spilling out of him when he saw her car parked in front
of a run down apartment building.

He braked hard, the tires screeching along the pavement. Jumping out of
the car he saw Cordelia exiting the building, a large suitcase in each
hand. He ran over to her, not noticing the pain in her face or the
awkward way she was walking. He was directly in front of her before she
saw him, her eyes widening as he grabbed the suitcases from her and
threw them towards her car.

"Going somewhere Cordelia?" His voice sounded frightening to his own
ears as he stared down at her.

She made a small sound, somewhere between a gasp and a moan before
trying to walk around him. He let her pass him before turning around to
speak again. "Ever plan on telling the baby about its father?"

She froze for a moment, before beginning to walk towards her car again,
her gait slow and wobbly. He caught up with her quickly, spinning her
around to face him. "It's my baby Cordelia."

She stared up at him, her eyes widening. Shaking her head she backed
away from him. "Are you crazy Xander? How could it be your baby?" Her
voice struggled to be derisive, but the shakiness was too evident.

Xander shook his head, trying to contain his anger. "Don't lie to me.
Willow figured it out."

Cordelia took a deep breath, then she spoke softly. "I'm leaving town
Xander. No one will ever know."

"I know." He screamed at her, using all his self-control to keep from
shaking her. "This is my baby too."

"Xander." She whispered his name, her voice full of pain.

"Save the wounded act Cordelia." He spat the words at her, too angry to
listen to her try and explain. "I don't know how you did it, but Willow
and Buffy are both singing your praises once again." He paced in a
circle around her unable to stand still. He stopped suddenly, his voice
cold as he interrogated her. "Was it good Cordy?" Cordelia stared at him
blankly so he asked her again. "Was it good fucking a drunk man? Did I
satisfy you? Or was the thought of  my money enough?"

"Don't." Cordelia spoke softly, but her voice held none of the fear it
had earlier. She considered him carefully before continuing. "I made
love to a man that loved me and missed me. A man who gave me more joy in
a drunken embrace than I have felt in the last five years." She walked
closer to him, and stared him straight in the eyes as she finished. "It
wasn't about money, or prestige. It was about love. I know I shouldn't
have done it, but I'm not sorry. And I won't let you make me feel guilty
for it." She turned then and walked over to where one of her suitcases
lay, bending down slowly to pick it up.

Xander watched her moving, the anger that had been leading him fading
away, leaving only sadness. He walked over to her, gently taking the
suitcase from her hand and setting it down beside her car. She said
nothing as he collected the other suitcase and brought it to sit beside
the first. Xander turned to her, looking at her for the first time
without a haze of anger surrounding him. She looked very young standing
there, her face pale and gaunt as she waited to see what he would do. He
stood transfixed, suddenly wanting to hold her in his arms and tell her
that everything would be okay. Instead he cleared his throat; Willow's
words reverberating in his head, and asked her the question he truly
feared the answer to. "Willow said you loved me. That you always loved
me. Is it true?"

Cordelia's face crumbled, the tears spilling down her cheeks as she
nodded her head. Taking deep breaths she struggled to speak, her voice
trembling. "Yes."

He closed his eyes as her affirmation washed over him, stumbling
backwards until he was leaning against her car. He stood there for a
minute unable to speak before he opened his eyes and looked at her. She
stood there, her arms wrapped around her stomach as she sobbed. Walking
over to her, he touched her arms softly and looked down at her. Speaking
carefully he asked the question he had been haunted by for the last five
years. "Why then? Why did you leave me?"

She stared up at him, her eyes full of pain, but when she spoke her
voice was calm, almost cold. "Why didn't you try and stop me?"

"Cordelia." Xander whispered, suddenly sure that no answer he could give
her would make it right. "I don't know. You seemed so different, so much
like the snob I had always hated. Like what we had didn't matter."

She sagged against him, only his hands on her arms keeping her upright.
She stared at him; her eyes pools of agony and loneliness as she pleaded
with him to make her understand. "Why did you believe me? Why didn't you
know that something was wrong?"

"What was wrong?" He asked her, knowing in his heart that he had been
mad at the wrong person all these years.

She straightened up, a look of pain crossing her face before she backed
away from him. "Just let it go Xander. It was a long time ago, and it
really doesn't matter anymore." She moved towards her suitcases, her car
keys jingling in her hand.

Xander moved towards her, angry that she could walk away. He spoke
loudly, the anger back in his voice. "Let it go? I've spent the last
five years in misery because you left me for some reason that you don't
even think matters?"

She spun around, reacting to the anger in his voice with anger of her
own. She threw her head back, her eyes glaring as she spoke calmly and
coldly. "I left you because I saw you and Buffy kissing in the
graveyard. I was a bitch because I thought it would be easier for you
and Buffy if you could be together without guilt. I did it because I
stupidly thought that you two would have a happy life. I did it because
I loved both of you so much that all I wanted was for you to be happy."

Xander stood there stunned, his stomach sinking as the depth of the
mistake he had made sunk in. How could he not have known? She had began
acting strangely on the very night he had kissed Buffy. He stepped
forward slightly, wanting to go down on his knees and beg for her
forgiveness, but he didn't know what to say. He couldn't even understand
why he had never suspected, how could he expect her to understand? So he
just watched silently, tears streaming down his face as she fumbled with
her car keys and opened the trunk.

"Cordelia?" The word was strangled through his throat, his head still
spinning. He took a tentative step toward her, not knowing what he would
say; just knowing that he couldn't let her leave without at least trying
to explain.

She was leaning against the car, not reacting to him as he moved closer,
his stomach sinking even lower. He touched her shoulder cautiously and
she moved slightly, a gasp of pain escaping her lips. He dimly heard
another car screech to a stop in front of the apartment building as
Cordelia grabbed her stomach and sunk to the ground, crying out in
agony.

"The baby." Cordelia gasped out, looking up at Xander for
help. He leaned down to pick her up, his heart beating wildly and turned
to see Willow and Buffy running towards them. He took off towards
Buffy's jeep, screaming at them to get back to the car.

He ran as fast as he could, the terror in Cordelia's eyes spurring him
on. Buffy jumped into the driver's seat as he climbed into the back with
Cordelia.

"Hospital. Fast." He choked out as he looked down at Cordelia and
realized that she was unconscious. He smoothed her hair back from her
face, whispering his love to her, promising her that everything would be
all right. He looked up once to meet Willow's worried eyes before
letting the tears flow freely.

"Oh God Willow. What did I do?" His voice was thick with guilt as he
stared at the still form in his lap. "What did I do?"

"Xander." Willow began, then stopped as she saw the look in Xander's
eyes.

Buffy drove fast towards Sunnydale General, ignoring every stop sign and
red light until she pulled up at the emergency entrance. Xander had the
door open before the car was even stopped, running into the hospital
with Cordelia in his arms. He quickly explained the situation to the
nurse and Cordelia was quickly put on a stretcher and taken away.

He stood staring down the hallway they had taken her until Buffy and
Willow came to stand beside him. They stood on either side of him,
softly supporting him as they led him over to the waiting room and sat
him down in a chair. He sat staring at the floor, until Buffy touched
his arm and spoke softly to him, her voice frightened. "Xander?"

He froze at the sound of her voice, for one moment furiously angry with
her, but it passed quickly. His voice was textured with guilt and fear
as he spoke. "She saw when we kissed. That's why she left."

"I know." Buffy answered softly, her voice sad. "I'm so sorry."

He didn't say anything after that; the fear was too pervasive to allow
him any words. Willow and Buffy sat beside him silently as the night
wore away, neither of them moving. When the first rays of dawn were just
beginning to break the nurse came to get him; her expression slightly
panicked. She took him down the long hallway explaining as they walked
that the baby was gone and that Cordelia was not taking it well.

"Where is she?" Xander questioned, his pace quickening.

The nurse motioned towards a closed door and Xander sprinted to it, not
knocking before he threw himself into the room. He stopped just inside
the door, the sight of Cordelia freezing him. She was sitting up in the
bed, two nurses holding her down as she struggled to get up. Her hair
was plastered to her pale face and she was sobbing hysterically. One of
the nurses turned to him, asking him if he was the husband. He opened
his mouth to say no, but nodded instead, moving slowly to stand at the
foot of the bed.

"Cordy?" He whispered, his voice choked with sorrow.

She stopped struggling at the sound of his voice, her eyes searching his
face. "Xander?" Her voice was terrified as she stared at him.

He moved closer to her, the nurses letting go of Cordelia's arms and
backing away. Reaching down he touched her face, smoothing the hair
back. Whispering her name again, he wrapped his arms around her as she
sobbed. Her head pushed against his face as she cried on his shoulder as
if she would never stop. He felt his own tears slipping down his face as
he kissed her head and murmured meaningless words of comfort.

Her sobs finally slowed and she pulled away from him, leaning back
against the pillow, her eyes red and swollen. She looked up at him, her
voice hoarse as she spoke. "You would have loved the baby."
 It was a statement more than a question, but he nodded his head anyway,
his hand reaching out to cover hers. She stared at him for another
minute before speaking again. "The baby was everything to me. It was all
I had, all I wanted."

"Cordelia." He uttered, feeling totally helpless to comfort her. "I'm
here for you."

She didn't say anything in response to his words, her expression
impossible to read as she stared down at the sheet covering her, her
fingers plucking aimlessly at the fabric. When she lifted her eyes again
it was only to whisper that she was okay now, and that she wanted to be
alone for a while. Xander leaned over and kissed the top of her head
before walking away.

He moved slowly down the hallway, barely noticing the people who passed
him, faces that were blurred by the tears in his eyes. He forced himself
to keep moving, to keep the tears hidden, until he could be alone.
Willow and Buffy stood up as soon as they saw him enter the room, their
faces filling with sorrow as they looked at him. They moved
simultaneously over to him, wrapping themselves around him as they
cried. He didn't cry though, he couldn't, the guilt he felt overwhelming
him. Pushing them away he walked shakily over to the chairs and sat
down, feeling the weight of his failure pushing on him.

"How is she?" Willow asked, kneeling in front of him, her goodness
shining in her eyes.

"Sleeping. She wants to be alone." Xander mumbled, before sitting up
straight, his hands balled into fists. "I wanted to tell her that she's
already been alone too much, but I didn't. What could I possibly have to
offer her now, especially after everything I've done, everything I've
said?" He posed the question to no one in particular, knowing there was
no good answer.

"You love her." Buffy offered, her face showing the pain of the guilt
she was feeling.

"Yeah." Xander laughed bitterly. "I've done a great job of loving her so
far."

"She needs you now Xander. She'll need all of us." Willow said.

"And I'm sure we'll be the first people she turns to." Xander spat out,
unable to keep the anger he felt from showing in his voice. He felt as
if he would never take another breath without regretting every moment of
the past five years. His mind was racing as he remembered every cruel
word he had said to her since she had returned, every horrible fate he
had wished upon her.

"We'll make it up to her." Buffy promised, her face determined.

"How?" Xander questioned angrily. "Can you make our baby live?" He
stared at Buffy intently, seeing the same guilt that turned his stomach
reflected in her eyes. Feeling the tears burning his throat he turned
his head from her, covering his face with his hands as he mourned for
the baby he had just discovered and lost. A picture flashed in his mind
of Cordelia holding their child, her expression full of joy. Sobs
finally burst from his body as he thought of the life that could have
been, the baby that would have brought them both such happiness.

No one tried to stop his tears, they let him mourn for his child as they
sat by his side, both of them softly crying.  They were silent long
after he had finally stilled his tears, knowing that there was nothing
anyone could say right now that could make it any better. Xander didn't
move from his chair for the entire day, his eyes watching everyone who
entered the hallway that held Cordelia. He didn't move when Willow
finally went to get something to eat, and he didn't move when she came
back an hour later and told him that Cordelia had checked herself out
and that she didn't want to see him. He just sat there as another night
fell, saying nothing at all.



______________________________________________________
Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: After the Fire
Date: 17 Jan 1999 13:43:55 -0500

Title: After the Fire
Name: Northlight
email: [e-mail]
Spoilers: Gingerbread (that is the title, isn't it?  Whatever.  The
latest one).
Summary:  Joyce deals with her guilt.
Disclaimer:  They don't belong to me... but then, we all knew that
already, didn't we?



    Joyce Summers looked around her living room, trying to hold onto some
semblance of control.  Wide, horrified eyes swept across the couches
where she and her fellow members of MOO had planned their next step in
an escalating program of fear and retribution.  From there, her eyes
shifted towards the stairs, where only hours ago, two children had stood
urging her to destroy her own daughter.  That memory sent Joyce's eyes
snapping down to the floor where she had dropped her drugged and
horrified daughter.

    One trembling hand flew to Joyce's mouth, and she clenched her eyes
shut.  The darkness behind her eyes offered her no reprieve from the
memories swirling around her.

    Fire danced through her mind, as merciless as she had been.  She gagged
helplessly as she thought of how close that fire had come to claiming
three innocent lives.  She had nearly _killed_ three children.  She had
nearly killed her own _daughter_.

    A mother was supposed to protect her children, not persecute and hunt
them down.  Joyce's eyes filled with helpless tears.  Buffy had hugged
her, whispering reassuring words to her, letting her know that she was
alive.  Joyce had held her daughter to her desperately, even Buffy's
form in her arms seeming unreal.  Since discovering her daughter's
destiny, Joyce had worried constantly about her falling before some
demon.  She had never thought that she could be used as an instrument of
destruction.

    Joyce had always believed in non-violence and freedom.  And yet, she
had turned against those ideals with an ease that terrified her.  As if
sensing what her mother was thinking, Buffy had repeated earnestly that
it hadn't been Joyce's fault.  It had been the monster, she had said.
It had been using everyone.

    That didn't, _couldn't_ make the guilt leave.

    She had roused the entire town into a frenzy of hatred and violence.
She had helped to set parents against their own children.  'And what if
everyone wasn't saved?  What if some people decided to act on their own
against the witches?'  A low moan escaped her at that thought.

    What had begun as a quest to help make her home a better place for
everyone had deteriorated into yet another burst of violence and death
throughout Sunnydale.

    She had eagerly, joyfully burned books at her daughter's bound feet.
She had lashed out at her with hurtful words.  She had become as great a
monster as those Buffy fought.

    Joyce's eyes peeled open, latching onto the posters scattered around
the room.  The two demon children who had led her step by step through
the witch hunt stared out at her, mocking smiled on their lips.

    A low hiss broke through Joyce's clenched teeth.  Without conscious
thought, she was moving forward, her jaw clenched and her hands balled
into fists.  She reached out towards the nearest poster, her breaths
harsh as she glared down at it.

    "Never again, indeed!" she growled suddenly, the small faces tearing
apart beneath her hands.  Joyce watched them flutter down to the carpet
before reaching out for a pickets.  She hefted it up marched towards her
office.  With a shout, she brought it down against the desk, the papers,
the posters, against everything that had been the woman she had become.

***

    Buffy approached her house warily, weariness and worry making her steps
slow.  She and Giles had finished up monster cleaning duty, and now she
was coming home to an even more strenuous job.

    Her mother was an emotional mess, Buffy recognized.  It would be a long
night of talking and crying before either of them would be able to even
seriously consider sleep.

    Buffy stepped into the house and stopped short.  She looked around,
blinking rapidly in surprise.  Someone had been on one hell of a
rampage.  "Mom?!" Buffy called out softly, moving deeper into her home.

    She found Joyce in her office, sitting on the floor surrounded by the
remains of her office.  Joyce looked up and smiled weakly.  "You're
right, Buffy.  What kind of an acronym was MOO anyway?"


~End~



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Can't Hide the Past (4c/?)
Date: 18 Jan 1999 05:46:30 EST

Title: Can't Hide the Past
Author: Anna Perez (Shadows)
E-mail: [e-mail]
Feedback: Please?
Rating: PG-13 to R
Disclaimer: Characters seen on the Idiot Box belong to Joss Whedon & the WB
Distribution: Just ask for permission
Summary: 15 years after my own season 3 finale, the characters of BtVS find
themselves thrown back together under unusual circumstances.
Note: The last episode that I have seen is "Amends". I will follow the show
from up to there, and then it's my playground.

*****

    Oz was trying to explain to Cordelia that this might be the indirect cause of
a spell he, Willow, and Echo where doing the day before, but only so much
could enter Cordelia Harris' head at once. She only heard the words "Willow"
and "spell."

    "So this is *Willow's* fault?" she fumed. "Why does everything that happens
to me in this Factory has to be because of *Willow*." Oz imagined that there
was smoke coming out of her ears, and he tried not to let a smile appear on
his face from the comical mental image.

    "Cordelia, calm down," he soothed. "Listen to e-ver-y-thing I say-"

    "Oz!" "Cordelia?"

    The two separate voice rang out in the emptiness of the factory. "Down here-
wait, we'll be up there in a second!" Oz called out, recognized the voices of
Xander and Willow. He was glad to see them-if they were stuck in Sunnydale and
they were alive, then there was a chance of getting out of this town living
and breathing and to find a way out of whatever mess they were in.

    "Oz?" It was Xander's voice, lined with worry. "Is Cordelia down there with
you?"

    "Yes I am!" Cordelia answered for herself, and Oz winced at the volume. "And
Alexander Harris, you better explain what the *hell* is going on when I get up
there! Both to Oz and me!"

    "I promise, Cordy," Xander called from up above. Cordelia relaxed at the
sound of her husband's voice.

    "Hey!" Oz yelled up at Xander. "I'll hoist her up there, and you grab her
arms, ok? You don't have to crawl up there. And Willow?"

    "Yeah?" Her voice was small and sounded like bells.

    "I'll be up right after Cordy, ok?" No answer. "Everything's fine, baby. I'm
here."

    The answer was a very soft murmur of "I know."

    Oz paused for a moment to mull over Willow's strange comment, and then
shrugged it off. He grabbed Cordelia by the waist and lifted her clear over
his head. He noticed that Xander had hold of her arms because Cordelia's body
went taut. He pushed her up as Xander pulled and didn't let go until his hands
slipped off her shoes. Then, making sure the hole was cleared, he bent his leg
muscles and then let them loose, jumping out of the hole.

    The scene before him so stunned him that he practically fell back down again.

*****

    What was he expecting? It was hard to put it into words. Maybe . . . a taller
version of him. Yes, that was one thing that he was expecting-hoping was a
more aptly put word, actually. And maybe he'd have gotten his grown spurt, and
not be so damn lanky. And maybe he'd be able to keep his hair color just one
shade, and maybe he'd have finally grown a real goatee instead of fuzz. Maybe.

    Sadly, his hopes were dashed. If the gang had thought both Willow's looked
alike, past Oz and Future Oz could be mistaken for twins.

    They both were rather short; They both were lanky, although F-Oz was slightly
thinner; Oz's hair a dulled brown (his original color) and F-Oz's a reddish-
brown; they both had fuzz that half-passed for goatees or just the inability
to shave. Oz was disappointed.

    F-Oz was floored.

    "Ok, is anybody *else* seeing double?" F-Oz asked. F-Willow turned towards
him and her arm slinked around his back. Needing some sense of security
himself, he hung his arm about her shoulders and pulled her close, like they
had been doing on the balcony just minutes ago. Except . . . no jacket. Darn,
he had liked that jacket, he'd had it forever; but he loved Willow more and
was worried more about losing her than a half-replaceable jacket.

    He noticed that she was shivering, and he wrapped another arm around her. F-
Willow hugged him and they looked like one person. It was sweet.

    "Yeah," F-Xander sighed, holding his own wife in his arms. "You see, seems my
younger self decided to transport all of us back to the past as a 'fluke
accident', and we're here, so we're stuck here until we can find a way back."
He looked at F-Oz, waiting to see what he would say or do.

    "That's . . . certainly something," F-Oz said, grasping for the right words
and finding none.

    "And who says things change?" Xander muttered under his breath. Buffy
overheard him and flashed him grin, which he sent right back. He was watching
F-Xander holding what he was pretty damn sure was F-Cordelia. And however
elating, it was also strange and confusing. He had the feeling that an
explanation wasn't coming his way any time soon.

    "So, you're saying we're in the past . . . ?" F-Cordelia said, her voice
showing a surprising strength. Xander looked down at her, and she tilted his
head up. Her nose met with his chin when they stood like that. "Oh. Ohmigod."

    "We're not in Kansas anymore," Oz noted, shaking his head at what was going
on.

    "Yeah, well, thanks for the brilliant observation, Toto," Cordelia shot back
harshly, and Oz flinched. "I'm sorry," she quickly apologized, and then
brought a hand to her forehead. "Ohmigod, this is just too much . . ." She
turned to look at everyone in the room, and as soon as her eyes landed on
Buffy she whipped Xander around and began a heated and muted conversation.

    Willow and Oz just stared at the almost-identical couple. They were moving
their mouths as though they were speaking to each other, but no sound
whatsoever came out. They went like this for awhile, everyone explaining what
they were going through, and then F-Cordelia let out a long, "Oh, I get it
now. But if I get the chance, I'm still gonna claw her eyes out."

    "If Cordelia gets it, I get it," F-Oz whispered to his wife, and she giggled.

    "Well," Buffy said, spinning a stake idly in her hands. There were no
vampires tonight, and she just wanted to get the next pick-up over with. She
knew she was next, and she knew exactly where she was.

"Um, so now what?" Oz asked, and they all turned to look towards Buffy, who
obviously would take over as the leader of the group.

    "Well, I know where I am," Buffy said, trying to keep her voice flat and
emotionless, like Faith often did. For all she knew, she might not even be
alive still. "I definitely know the place I most hate."

    "The place you most hate? Wait . . ." F-Oz looked between Buffy and F-Willow,
and then Oz and Willow. F-Willow's grip tightened and she nodded in
affirmation. They traded meaningful looks.

    F-Xander turned a strange shade of purple, and then looked away from F-
Cordelia. F-Cordelia noted his awkwardness and pushed away her own. She
grabbed his chin-stubble, jesus, didn't the man ever take time to shave?-and
looked unwaveringly into his eyes. "I forgive you," she told him low and
sternly, "and don't you dare think otherwise." F-Xander gave her a wane smile,
and she kissed him lightly on the mouth.

    Xander almost let out an audible sigh. {Cordelia and I . . . back together?
But if we're back together, how? The only talking she does to me now is to put
me down, I can't believe she'd actually forgive me, and I want to be kissing
her right now instead of my other self kissing her. It's no fair that I have
to wait that long. Even though it's my fault that I have to wait.}

    "So we go get . . . Buffy, next?" F-Cordelia asked, after she was done making
sure her husband knew she held no grudge. She looked towards the younger
generation with her typical "So, am I right?" look.

    "Well, yeah," Buffy said, itching to get out of this Factory and over to
where she thought she'd find her future self.

    "Then what are we waiting for?" F-Oz asked. In his arms, F-Willow made a
small shrug. "Then let's go."

*****

    It was a tight squeeze-true-and it was a bit awkward-true-but the gang and
their future selves tried to make the best of it. Meaning no one was speaking.

    F-Xander and F-Cordelia had claimed the back of the van, and were sprawled in
comfortable positions while engaged in a conversation that included doing some
strange version of patty-cake that kept sending them into fits of giggles.
Xander was leaning on the doors, looking somewhere between falling asleep and
gazing with confusion at the couple playing patty-cake. Buffy was on the
opposite side of the doors with knees drawn up to her chin, deep in thought.
F-Oz and F-Willow were leaning on the back of Oz's seat, F-Willow in F-Oz's
lap, his arms wrapped tightly around her slim waist. He was whispering
Shakespeare in her ear, and she had a happy and contented look in her face.

    Oz was in the front seat, trying to cope with the fact that less than a foot
away stood, well, himself. In fact, he was so coping with it that it was the
only thing on his mind, and he forgot the very much more important thing.

    "Uh, Buffy?' Oz called into the back. Everyone looked up from their
respective thoughts and activities and looked at him attentively. "Where
exactly are we going?"

    Buffy's jaw dropped but said nothing. That was F-Cordelia's job.

    "You mean you don't know?" she asked, her own jaw dropping. "Where've we been
driving for the past, like, fifteen minutes?"

    F-Oz scooted over to where he could see out the windshield and craned his
neck. "Looks like the city limits," he said, a touch of humor in his voice.

    "Oh, great one," F-Cordelia said, throwing her arms up. One of them hit F-
Xander in the face, and he gently grabbed her arms and placed them in her lap.
"Twelve steps," he told her sternly. "Twelve steps."

    F-Cordelia looked at him cluelessly, and then once getting the point, she
gave an exasperated sigh, crossed her arms over her chest, and turned away
from him. "I *hate* being a better person," she grumbled, an unhappy
expression on her face.

    "That's funny," F-Xander said lightly, "because it seems you don't have much
practice at it." F-Cordelia, astonished, turned to look at him, and then
slapped him playfully on the arm. "You are such a smartass, Xander! You better
be careful, or I'm gonna be serving you divorce papers"

    Everyone had a good quiet laugh in the van, and Buffy was about to speak up
when F-Willow reached over to her and tugged out the hat-thing she had sat on.
F-Willow held it up like a trophy and then waved it in front of F-Oz's face.
"We still have this!" she proclaimed proudly, and then gave him a quick kiss
on the lips.

    "What *is* it?" F-Cordelia asked, tapping her fingernails lightly on F-
Xander's arm, which was slung casually around his wife's shoulders. F-Willow
took one look at the hat-thing and shrugged. She looked at Oz, who shrugged in
turn.

    "I don't really care. I just like it a lot 'cause it earned me a kiss." Oz
grinned, and the grin grew wider as Willow grinned back. Ah, she had the
sweetest smile . . .

    "I hate to break this moment," Buffy interrupted, a wistfulness evident in
her voice-obviously wishing for happier time-"but it seems our ride has
stopped."

    It had indeed. Oz was turned around with one arm draped over the headrest of
his chair, looking over at Buffy. "So, where are we going?" he asked calmly.

    "You're on the right road," Buffy assured him.

    "But we're almost the to edge of Sunnydale," Willow pointed out, doubt
evident in her voice. "Are you sure we're going the right way?"

    "I'm sure," Buffy said confidently. "We're headed to the mansion."


//**\\


    ~~~~Meanwhile, back at the library, a place filled with characters the author
has been ignoring thus far, and she apologizes for that very fact . . .~~~~

    Giles was seated at the table with the Pergamum Codex in front of him, a
surefire way of figuring out what in the bloody hell was going on around here.
Buffy, Xander, Willow, Oz, F-Xander, and F-Willow had gone out to round
everyone else, leaving F-Faith behind to pretend to help him research. And
also leaving that bloody dog here to destroy his library.

    D-Giles was currently nosing his wet muzzle through some very ancient and
hard-to-replace books. "Hey, get!" he told the dog. D-Giles lifted his head to
look at him for a second, wet brown eyes meeting Giles', and then the dog
turned back to "reading" the covers.

    "Shoo!" Giles tried again, wanting to drive the dog away but not wanting to
put any physical effort into it. This time, when he dog looked up at him, D-
Giles gave his namesake a who-do-you-think-you-are-ordering-ME-around-like-
that looks that reminded Giles too much of Cordelia to give him the power to
keep a straight face.

    "Just call it by its name." Giles turned his head around and saw F-Faith
leaning her chair back on two legs, one wicked-looking black boot sitting on
top of the table, and the slayer herself giving it a literal spit-shine. "Call
it by its name and tell it to fucking stop it. 'Shoo' ain't gonna cut it,
gramps."

    Giles shook his head at her dirty mouth as he turned back to face the dog,
who had taken the Malleus Maleficarum by the teeth. "Giles!" he said sharply,
feeling extremely ridiculous. D-Giles looked up at, surprised that this
impudent stranger was commanding authority. But that's all it took: a sharp
glare, the mention of his name, and a "bad dog! Don't do it again!" verse once
or twice. D-Giles hung his head and jumped down from the chair in which he had
perched upon, slinking away to sulk in a corner.

    "Um, thank you," Giles said to F-Faith, who ignored him. He sighed and took
his glasses off, running a hand nervously through his hair.

    "You're welcome," F-Faith muttered, trying to see if it was true, that you
could see your own reflection in your shoes if they were shiny enough. She
snorted. "Bullshit."

    "Pardon me?" Giles said, surprised. F-Faith took one look at him and shook
her head sadly, wondering why she had to stay guard over both helpless
puppies.



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: sah <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: ADMIN:  List rules
Date: 19 Jan 1999 11:02:48 -0500 (EST)

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
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2. Discussion of posted fiction is permitted onlist.  Please put
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This ensures that anyone who doesn't like knowing about an episode
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Spoiler warnings are not necessary after the start of the episode's
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If you have a question about something's suitability for posting, feel
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Again, welcome!  If  you have any questions about these rules, please
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 &
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Listowners, Buffy the Vampire Slayer Fiction List
[e-mail]





-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: sah <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: ADMIN:  How to (un)s*bscribe
Date: 19 Jan 1999 11:03:01 -0500 (EST)

Please SAVE this message-- it contains information on how to uns*bscribe.

TO UNS*BSCRIBE FROM ANY BUFFY LIST

send a message to [e-mail]

In the body of the message put

uns*bscribe buffy

(or buffy-digest, or buffyfic, or buffyfic-digest)







-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Can't Hide the Past (5a/?)
Date: 19 Jan 1999 17:52:25 EST

Title: Can't Hide the Past
Author: Anna Perez (Shadows)
E-mail: [e-mail]
Feedback: Please?
Rating: PG-13 to R
Disclaimer: Characters seen on the Idiot Box belong to Joss Whedon & the W=
B
Distribution: Just ask for permission
Summary: 15 years after my own season 3 finale, the characters of BtVS fin=
d
themselves thrown back together under unusual circumstances.
Note: The last episode that I have seen is "Amends". I will follow the sho=
w
from up to there, and then it's my playground.

*****

=09God, she love Jonah. She really did. It really was love at first sight =
. . .

=09She had run away from Sunnydale, again, just wanting to get away from
everything she had destroyed, from everyone she had failed. This time, ins=
tead
of relocating somewhere else in So Cal, Buffy took the train and wen to NY=
C,
where she got a job as a waitress in caf=E9 in the Village and did nights =
at a
community college she had long since forgotten the name of. Life was hard =
at
first, because of all he guilt she continually carried with her. But over =
the
course of a few months she thought less and less of the happenings in
Sunnydale as she settled into the routine of her brand-new life as Anne
Summers, once again.

=09She really loved working at that caf=E9. At first she hated it, because=
 it was
owned by some raunchy new breed of dickhead that she suspected was also a
pimp, because he kept hinting that she ought to worked for him in his "oth=
er
business," the one he held at night. Then, once he was arrested-narcotics
traffickers are the norm in NY, unfortunately-his young niece inherited th=
e
shabby place.

=09Helen-that was the niece's name-was a dear, sweetheart who cam from a n=
ot-so-
well-to-do part of Brooklyn with a charming accent. She had pretty orange =
red
hair and freckles that were actually flattering, and not the best body but=
 not
the worst. She had a boyfriend was had supported for 2 =BD years while he =
was
writing his novel, and just when Helen was going to dump him because she
thought he was putting her on, he got published and made millions off his
bestselling book. So this poor, dirty, smoky, gothic place was extremely b=
elow
her new self, but right at home for the Brooklyn Helen, and Helen never fo=
rgot
her Brooklyn self.

=09The place was quickly decomposing on itself, falling to bits and pieces
inside and out. Helen had fixed the shoddy construction in a wink, giving =
it a
fresh look while still keeping that coffehouse, starving-artists-chronical=
ly-
depressed-poets-come-here kind of place. She had redone the interior keepi=
ng
the same nostalgic look while making the place look permanently clean, and
advertised the place so that they got more customers. Since her boyfriend
spent the day writing his other novels and they were living just fine off =
his
last paycheck, Helen devoted all her time to the Green Leaf Caf=E9. She ho=
vered
over everyone's shoulders and becoming good friends with the help, includi=
ng
Anne.

=09In fact, Anne was Helen's mission. Helen would not leave Anne alone unt=
il she
managed to open up just the tiniest bit. Helen thought that Anne was a goo=
d
girl who had associated with the wrong people and just needed some good
influence. Helen thought Anne needed a guy.

=09Anne was behind the counter, wiping clean the marble blocks Helen had
installed to given the place some class, Helen had snuck up behind her. An=
ne,
startled, shrieked and jumped up, losing control of all her body parts. He=
r
hand, flying free, knocked over a full coffee mug-


=09****-and Anne watched as the dark brown liquid tipped over cup's mouth =
as it
clattered onto the counter. The mug crashed down and rolled away, covered =
into
the coffee. The rest of the drink spread around the counter, and write on =
top
of the papers it had landed on.

=09She hadn't noticed him in front of her. He was about her age, maybe a l=
ittle
older, as old as Angel had looked to her the first-no, stupid, don't think
about him or anything related to Buffy-time she saw him (who?). He looked =
like
he was in college, or should be in college, with dark black hair that
desperately needed to be combed, soft pale skin, oval face, and the most
intriguing set of dark green eyes, an unnatural color Anne had never seen
before. He looked down at his pages of ruined manuscript, and then looked =
up
at Anne. Anne had gulped and squeezed her eyes shut, afraid of whatever
screaming and shouting session would follow. For sure she might be fired.

=09"It's ok," he had soothed instead. Buffy had opened one eye and stared =
at him
disbelievingly, eyebrow arching. "What, don't look at me like I'm from Mar=
s or
something." He had smiled, and that made Anne give an attempt at a laugh.
"It's just a little coffee stain. It'll come out. Besides, the script wasn=
't
winning no Pulitzer anyhow."

=09"Script?" Anne asked, interested. "As in a script for a play, or a scri=
pt for
a movie?"

=09"Movie script," he had answered. "I've realized that Broadway is far to=
o
classy for me, so I might as well make my life as one of the many leeches =
in
the movie industry." He said this sadly, as though he regretted his choice=
 in
"careers."

=09"Oh, there are plenty of good people out there in Hollywood," Anne had
assured him, leaning her elbows comfortably on the marble counter. "No one
really comes to mind just now"-he cracked a smile-"but there are. And I'm
certain you're one of them."

=09"Thanks so much, you really don't know what it means to e to have you t=
alk to
me," he said, all smiles. He looked so debonair, yet homely and nice. "I w=
as
afraid I was going to use one of those horrible pickup lines, like 'Can I =
have
quarter? I promised I'd call my mother when I met the girl of my dreams' o=
r 'I
must have died and gone to heaven, because I'm seeing an angel before me'
or"-he mock-shuddered-"the dread 'Have we met before?' deal. You know, all=
 out
to get the girl."

=09Anne had laughed, and he took that as a good sign. "My name is Daniel,"=
 he
said, extending his hand. Anne had taken it, shaking it lightly and about =
to
burst out laughing at his awkward formality.

=09"And my name is . . ." Anne paused for a moment. Who did she want to be=
 in
front of Daniel? Did she want to be Anne and have a fresh start? Or did sh=
e
want to take on the horrible emotional baggage brought along by calling
herself Buffy. What to do . . .?

=09"My name is Buffy," she said hesitantly, her hand sliding out of his fi=
rm
handshake. "Buffy."

=09Daniel's brow wrinkled. "But you tag says Anne," he said, as though Buf=
fy had
jus had a memory lapse.

=09Buffy blushed and fingered her nametag, which read ANNE in big back let=
ters.
"Yeah, I know," she admitted. "Let's just say that I though I was Anne, bu=
t I
really am a person called Buffy."

=09"Oh, I get it," Daniel said, slapping his forehead with the palm of his=
 hand.
"You moved here from somewhere, got a new name, and decided you were gonna=
 get
a whole new start on life. But then you decided to be who you really were.=
"
Buffy was taken aback by his rudeness, but his following comments made sen=
se.
"You are much more of a man than I am, Buffy." He held out his hand, and B=
uffy
took it again, this time shaking it a bit more firmly. "I might as well . =
. .
my name is Jonah. It's very nice to meet you, Buffy,"

=09"Charmed," Buffy said, looking up into Jonah's green eyes. She smiled
dreamily. "Very, very charmed."****


=09Now Buffy had gathered the covers and comforter from the floor and drap=
ed
them motheringly over her sleeping husband. She then proceeded to slip in =
one
his side and cudle up next to his warm body. She felt his breath hot on he=
r
neck, and then his arm slid around her waist.

=09"Oh, you're *up*, you dick!" Buffy teased, jutting Jonah in his stomach=
. Gosh
he had gorgeous abs. Jonah just chuckled and drew her tighter.

=09"I just wanted to hold you," he said, nibbling on her ear and stroking =
her
hair. Buffy smiled and snuggled closer to her husband, sighing contently. =
She
and Jonah hadn't grown apart during their many years of marriage. They had
made sure that they were in love before they had tied the knot. She rememb=
ered
finding out that she was pregnant with Elisabeth Sarah so soon, but both s=
he
and Jonah had agreed that they would wait a bit longer to see if they real=
ly
loved each other, because they just didn't want to do "the right thing." T=
he
wanted to do "the right thing," but to do it with love. Thank God they had=
 had
love, and they were able to give Elisabeth Sarah love.

=09"I love you Jonah. I love you so much." She giggled as Jonah's tongue t=
ickled
her earlobe. "Christ, Jonah, I think I might've married you just for the s=
ex
alone."

=09"Is that a compliment or not?" Jonah teased back, his mouth moving down=
 the
contours of her neck. "I love you too," he uttered breathlessly, nibbling =
on
her flesh. "Too, too much for my own good, Buffy."

=09"What?" Buffy asked, finding something wrong with his tone of voice. Th=
e
nibbling of her flesh was turning into biting now, and it hurt. "Jonah!" S=
he
pushed his face away with her hand, and then she definitely knew something=
 was
wrong.

=09She looked at him in horror. His beautiful face had turned into a disgu=
sting,
demon, ugly-face vampire. At she froze with shock, he lunged towards her a=
nd
grabbed her arms, burying his face in her neck.

=09She screamed.


//**\\


=09After the announcement that they were heading towards the mansion, ever=
yone
in the van quieted down. The silence was suffocating and almost as loud as=
 the
conversation had been. Buffy knew that it had to deal with her, somehow, a=
nd
she was very uncomfortable. But what was she to do about it?

=09Everyone was in their own little world, and Buffy seemed to be off in h=
ers.
But was she was really doing was watching everyone else trying to guess th=
at
they were thinking.

=09Xander had on a pained expression. He probably thought that all this wa=
s his
fault, and it was just too strange for him today. He was also probably
thinking about this future coupling. No doubt that things between Xander a=
nd
Cordelia were not very good, although they seemed to have turned out just
fine.

=09She could make out Willow's outline from where she sat, the lamplight f=
rom
outside occasionally flicking across her worn features. She looked so old
there, probably thinking about her and Oz and the big empty gap between th=
em.
Probably going over and over in her head the conversation that she and Buf=
fy
had had the night before over the phone, talking about their totally messe=
d-up
relationships or lack thereof.

=09Buffy couldn't see Oz's face, but she was damn sure what was on *his* m=
ind.

=09F-Oz and F-Willow were a puzzle. They were in the same position as befo=
re,
but both of them had their heads hung low and staring blankly at some
nonexistent spot on the van's rug. They seemed detached a little, but deep=
 in
thought at the same time.

=09F-Xander was staring stonily in silence, his mouth set in one straight =
line,
occasionally making a "harumph" of disgust, and F-Cordelia had rested her =
head
on his shoulder. She seemed awfully tired-perhaps time-travel jet lag? Who
knew? Things were strange enough as they were, Buffy could just except mor=
e
weirdness.

=09Buffy finished her analyzing rounds just as Oz pulled to a stop. "Well,
here's the mansion," he said, putting the van in Park. He opened the drive=
r
side door. "Anybody coming?"

=09Xander came back from wherever he was and snapped to attention. Tiredly=
, he
opened the van doors and toppled outside. Yet more visitors from the futur=
e.
Yay.

=09The others followed him begrudgingly, and Buffy was beginning to suspec=
t that
things weren't all that great between her Future Self and the Future
Slayeretttes. {Oh God, can that be true? What could've happened . . . ?}

=09F-Xander was mumbling something to his wife (girlfriend? No, there were=
 the
wedding bands glinting in the darkness) and Buffy scooted closer and strai=
ned
to listen with her slayer senses. It was something about her, maybe it wou=
ld
provide a clue to the sudden silence in the van . . .

=09". . . oh please, like we really need to come after that spineless litt=
le
hussy. I say we leave her to fare for herself, and if she fares really, re=
ally
badly, then all the better to give me a happy . . ."

=09Buffy felt like stopping in her tracks, but she kept walking down the d=
irt
path. God, what had happened to make *Xander* call her a spineless little
hussy. Sure, they had had their past where things weren't all too good bet=
ween
them, but this was unexpected. She could never be less than a goddess in h=
is
eyes, and she had always coveted that position, as much as she hated it. S=
he
*liked* hid admiration, even if she didn't want to take it to another leve=
l.
She was twisted like that.

=09But something had happened, something *big* had happened make F-Xander =
think
her like that. A thousand possibilities ran through Buffy's mind. And also=
 a
warning Giles had hissed to her before they had left:

=09"Don't talk to any of them. Don't ask them any questions regarding even=
ts
that have yet to happen. Knowing about your future is a very dangerous thi=
ng,
and we do not want to tamper with it. Enough has been done."




-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "Andrea Newbery" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Best Intentions, (13/18)
Date: 19 Jan 1999 17:20:03 PST

Title: Best Intentions
Author: Andrea
e-mail: [e-mail]
disclaimer: These characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant
Enemy, the WB, etc. They are not mine.
spoilers: Everything up to the end of season two.
distribution: Sure, just let me know.
summary: Xander/Cordelia. This fic is set in the same timeline as
Christine's amazing story, 'The Wildest Times in the World' although
technically this story takes place before that one. If you haven't read
it, e-mail me and I'll send it to you.
Feedback: Please. Good, bad, anything.
Thanks to Christine, for writing the story that started this, and for
helping me when I got stuck and for thinking up the title. And there's
still more I could thank you for. :)


September 30, 2006

Cordelia wandered slowly through town, the late afternoon sun helping to
chase away the constant chill she felt. The sidewalks were almost
deserted as she headed towards Sunnydale High School. She ended up there
almost every day now, sitting in the bleachers and watching the
cheerleaders practice. The rhythm of the cheers helped her to block out
her thoughts for a little while.

Leaning back against the hard wood of the seat behind her she tilted her
face into the sun and closed her eyes as she waited for the practice to
begin. She felt the tears stinging her eyes as she thought of the things
her baby would never do, never be a cheerleader or a football player, or
a geek. One tear slipped down her cheek as she tried to push her
thoughts away, wondering if the pain would ever ease.

She heard a clomping as someone climbed the bleachers towards her.
Swallowing hard she pushed back all signs of the pain she felt. She was
here so often that the cheerleaders had found out who she was and had
started asking her for advice, first on cheering, but lately about boys
too. In her good moments she considered volunteering for the team,
putting her years of expertise as Miss. Popularity to good use, but she
never followed through. She couldn't seem to follow through on anything
these days, her dress shop sat empty and her apartment was still
cluttered with boxes that had never been unpacked when she decided not
to leave Sunnydale. Or rather, hadn't decided to leave Sunnydale.

Opening her eyes she smiled at the blonde-haired girl sitting next to
her, the smile faltering then fading away completely as she realized who
it was. She stared warily at the Slayer, dreading anything the other
girl would say. She wanted more than anything to get up and run away,
but she couldn't force herself to move.

"Cordelia." Buffy spoke softly, her usual confidence missing. "I'm sorry
I followed you, but you won't return my calls."

"I've been busy." Cordelia spoke casually, waving her hand dismmissively
in Buffy's direction.

Buffy looked at Cordelia, her eyes disbelieving, before she turned to
stare out at the practicing cheerleaders. When she spoke again her voice
was sad. "I'm sorry about the baby."

Cordelia stiffened, pain clutching at her stomach before she forced
herself to relax and not respond to Buffy's words. They sat quietly for
a while as the cheerleaders practiced and the afternoon faded away. They
waved good-bye to Cordelia as they headed for home and left her alone
with Buffy.

The Slayer finally turned to look at Cordelia with tears in her eyes.
"I'm sorry about what I did. About kissing Xander. It was wrong, and
mean and I'm so sorry for all the pain it caused you."

Cordelia nodded her head as Buffy spoke, a sad smile on her lips. "I
know." She whispered, not trusting her voice to speak any louder without
breaking. "It doesn't matter Buffy. I understand why you did it."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Buffy asked cautiously.

Cordelia answered her calmly, as if they weren't talking about one of
the worst times in her life. "I knew how sad you were, and how alone.  I
could see it in your eyes even when you pretended to be happy." She
shrugged her shoulders as she continued. "I wanted you to be happy. I
wanted Xander to be happy. When I saw you together that night, I thought
that you would be."

"He only loved you. He still does." Buffy said, her eyes pleading with
Cordelia.

"It doesn't matter Buffy." Cordelia said quickly, her heart screaming
out that she loved him too. Standing up, she turned to face Buffy,
wanting to cry and scream and beg Buffy to help her deal with the pain
she felt. Instead she turned away and started to climb down from the
bleachers, not knowing if she hoped Buffy would follow her or not.

She was back on the road before she heard Buffy's footsteps coming up
behind her. The Slayer placed her hand tentatively on Cordelia's arm as
she caught up with her. Cordelia stopped suddenly, looking down at the
hand until Buffy removed it, her face flushing.

"What do you want?" Cordelia spoke tiredly, her face empty as she waited
for Buffy to answer.

Swallowing nervously Buffy spoke. "I want...I want to make it up to you.
To help you through this. I want us to be friends again."

Cordelia stared at her, remembering how badly she had once wanted to be
friends with Buffy again, but now when it was offered to her she
couldn't imagine ever trusting her again. "Why?" She sad coldly,
surprised by the sudden rush of anger that ran threw her. "How am I
supposed to forget what happened? How easy it was for you to turn
against me? Her voice grew colder as she spoke, the walls coming up
quickly to protect her from the betrayal that still hurt. She considered
Buffy carefully before speaking again. "You know what's really funny?"
Not waiting for an answer she continued. "I made my big sacrifice,
prepared myself to give up Xander, and all of you, but I never really
thought it would happen. I never thought you would just let me leave. I
had this big scene all thought out, where you and Xander confessed and
begged for my forgiveness."

"I felt so guilty." Buffy whispered. "It was easier to believe..." Her
voice trailed off as she stared beseechingly at Cordelia.

"That I was a self-absorbed bitch." Cordelia finished for her, her voice
full of sorrow.

"Cordelia." Buffy pleaded with her. "We made a mistake."

Cordelia felt the tears rising in her throat and started walking again,
not wanting Buffy to see her tears. The Slayer kept pace with her
easily, walking silently beside her. Cordelia ignored her until they
turned down the street leading to her apartment. Desperate to be alone
before she started sobbing she spoke snippily to Buffy. "Heard from
Angel lately?" Feeling Buffy stiffen beside her, she immediately
regretted her words. Balling her hands into fists she struggled to keep
herself from looking at Buffy.

"I know this trick Cordy." Buffy spoke calmly, only the smallest tint of
hurt in her words. "I fell for it once, but I won't do it again."

Cordelia put her hands over her face as the tears broke free. Turning to
Buffy she spoke in a voice thick with emotion. "Do you know how much I
wish I could trust you? God, I want so badly to talk to you. You know
what real loss feels like, how hard it is to keep going. Everyday it
just feels worse, and I feel more alone. Every message from you or from
Xander breaks my heart." She stopped speaking suddenly, sinking down to
sit on the curb, her knees pulled tightly to her chest.

"Why can't you try Cordy?" Buffy asked as she sat down beside her. "You
spend time with Willow, talk to her."

"It's easier with her." Cordelia answered, her tears muffling her words.
"Maybe because she was with me when I found out about the baby. Maybe
because I was never as close to her as I was to you. But mostly because
Willow loved Xander when I first started dating him. She had more reason
than anyone to hate me, and she didn't. She put her own feelings aside
and became my friend." She paused, sniffing loudly. "Willow was always
Xander's friend first, but I considered you my best friend."

"I don't know how to make this up to you." Buffy spoke sadly. "But I'm
going to. Because you need me. I've watched you sitting on the bleachers
every day, I see you pulling away from reality. I know this. I've lived
this Cordelia. Please let me help you."

Cordelia stared at the pavement in front of her, realizing the truth in
Buffy's words, knowing that she needed something to change. "I feel
empty inside." She whispered softly.

"I know." Buffy said, putting her hand on top of Cordelia's.

"When I found out I was pregnant, I felt like the universe was smiling
at me." She turned to look at Buffy, tears streaming down her face. "I
had a part of Xander growing inside me. And suddenly nothing else
mattered. I wasn't lonely or afraid anymore."

Buffy squeezed her hand tightly. "I felt like that when I found Angel.
Suddenly my bleak life didn't look so bleak anymore."

"And you lost him like I lost my baby." Cordelia whispered.

"But I'm still here. And I can go on, and so can you Cordelia. I'll
never forget how much you helped me after Angel left. Let me help you
now." Buffy whispered.

"How?" Cordelia pleaded softly.

"You lean on me. On Willow and anyone else you have to. We're here for
you. You don't need to be alone anymore." Buffy replied softly.

Cordelia stiffened, a short bitter laugh escaping her lips. She turned
on Buffy, her face cold and angry. "Do you know how much I hate those
words? I hated them when Xander said them to you that night, and when he
said them to me on the night I lost the baby." She took a deep breath,
glaring at Buffy. "No one has anyone else. You should know this. No one
is always going to be there for you."

Buffy listened to her rant with a calm expression, waiting until
Cordelia's breathing had returned to normal before saying anything. "I'm
sorry I wasn't the friend I should have been. I should have had more
faith in you, we all should have. But you do have me now Cordelia. I am
here for you, and there is nothing that you could do to drive me away.
I'm going to be the friend I always should have been."

Cordelia sat quietly, all her anger draining away until only sadness
remained. "I want to tell you to go away. To make you suffer. I want to
scream and yell and cry and curse until I lose my voice." Cordelia
paused, her voice barely audible as she continued. "But even more than I
want that, I need you. I thought I could get through this on my own, but
I can't. I need friends, I need a shoulder to lean on."

"I've got two. And they're of the extra strength Slayer variety." Buffy
joked carefully before her face turned serious again. "I am your friend
Cordelia. I promise you that I'll never let you down again." With that
the Slayer stood up and offered Cordelia her hand, pulling the brunette
to her feet easily.  They stood silently for a minute, before Buffy
spoke, looking unsure about what to do next. "So."

"So." Cordelia almost smiled, "Do you want to get something to eat?"

"Sure." Buffy smiled in relief as they turned to walk back into town.
Neither of them said anything until they were settled in the restaurant.
Buffy shifted in her chair, her eyes unable to meet Cordelia's. She
fiddled with her water glass for a while, until she finally spoke, her
voice so low that Cordelia barely heard the words. "What about Xander?"

Cordelia sat back, looking around the restaurant to make sure he wasn't
there. When she saw no sign of him, she relaxed slightly, turning back
to Buffy she answered her, her tone full of regret. "I can't. Not yet."

"Do you still love him?" Buffy asked.

"Yes." Cordelia replied immediately, "Always. I just can't deal with him
now. I can't see how I could ever trust him again. He knew me better
than anyone, I thought he knew me better than I knew myself. I told him
things I never told another living soul and he still didn't have any
faith in me."

Buffy was silent for a moment, sipping her water slowly before she spoke
again. "Please don't close the door."

Cordelia half-smiled; knowing that every minute was bringing her closer
to forgiving Xander. "I'm not." She looked down at the table for a
minute before giving into her curiosity. "Is he doing okay?"

Buffy nodded. "He's sad. And worried about you."

"You can tell him I'm getting better." Cordelia offered.

"Done." Buffy answered. "Consider me your Slayer powered messenger."

"Right now I'd settle for some waiter served food." Cordelia bantered, a
real smile flitting across her face as she considered the menu, feeling
hungry for the first time in months.
******


______________________________________________________
Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "Andrea Newbery" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Best Intentions, (14/18)
Date: 19 Jan 1999 17:43:51 PST

Title: Best Intentions
Author: Andrea
e-mail: [e-mail]
disclaimer: These characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant
Enemy, the WB, etc. They are not mine.
spoilers: Everything up to the end of season two.
distribution: Sure, just let me know.
summary: Xander/Cordelia. This fic is set in the same timeline as
Christine's amazing story, 'The Wildest Times in the World' although
technically this story takes place before that one. If you haven't read
it, e-mail me and I'll send it to you.
Feedback: Please. Good, bad, anything.
Thanks to Christine, for writing the story that started this, and for
helping me when I got stuck and for thinking up the title. And there's
still more I could thank you for. :)


January 7, 2007

Cordelia took one last look in the mirror before grabbing her purse and
running out of her apartment. She sprinted down the stairs, squinting as
she stepped out into the bright winter day. Seeing that Buffy wasn't
there yet, she sighed, assuming the Slayer was caught up with a student.
She shook her head slightly, the image of Buffy as a teacher, even if
she was a gym teacher, still surprising her. Glancing at her watch, she
smiled sadly, Buffy was still super athletic although she didn't have
the Slayer strength she used to. Cordelia frowned, thinking once again
of how close they had come to losing Buffy. If Giles hadn't rescued her,
the best friend she ever had would be dead. Shivering Cordelia pushed
the thought from her head, telling herself that Buffy was fine. The new
Slayer was expected any day now, and Willow was finally going to get her
chance to be an on duty Watcher.

Cordelia and Buffy had renewed their friendship in sadness. One mourning
the child she had lost and the other mourning the duty she had once
despised. Cordelia wondered if she ever would have trusted Buffy as
completely as she did if the other woman had not broken down one night,
confessing that she wasn't as strong as she once was. Cordelia had
thought she was joking at first, or that she wasn't getting what Buffy
meant, but once she realized it was true, that every vampire Buffy
managed to kill was more of a struggle than the last she had put aside
her own pain to comfort the Slayer. She had been moved when Buffy asked
her not to tell any of the others, that she wasn't ready to admit it
yet. The fact Buffy had felt she could share it with her went a long way
towards repairing the damage done to their relationship all those years
ago.

"But if she's much later, I'm going to have to seriously rethink this
whole friendship." Cordelia muttered to herself, pulling her collar up
as she watched the street for Buffy's car. She shivered, a chill
traveling up her spine as she remembered who was going to be at dinner
with them tonight. "Maybe late is better. Maybe never is better." She
whispered to herself before shaking her head in disgust. "Get over it
Cordy. You're past this. There is no reason that seeing Xander Harris
should frighten you." Right, she thought, no reason at all, if you can
forget how much you love him and how you still can't quite forgive him
for not having more faith in you. She sighed in relief as Buffy's car
turned onto her street, rescuing her from her thoughts.

Climbing into Buffy's car she glared fondly at the other woman as Buffy
rambled some excuse about a student who couldn't grasp the concept of
Dodgeball. She leaned her head against the seat, letting Buffy's voice
drown out the panic she was trying not to feel. The stomach turning,
nausea inducing, making her palms sweat panic that increased the closer
they got to the restaurant. She closed her eyes, counting to ten in her
head as an image of Xander imprinted itself on her brain. Be calm, she
told herself, he's probably just as nervous as you are. Why had she ever
let Buffy talk her into this? Buffy with her mumbo jumbo about wanting
to celebrate the new Slayer's arrival with a party. And Willow, she
thought, growing more agitated, Willow, with her innocent face, nodding
her head in agreement with every word Buffy said. Obviously forgetting
all about the whole 'the Slayer must work in secret' deal. Okay, not
forgetting exactly since the Slayer was coming to town under the guise
of Giles' niece. And who doesn't throw a party to welcome their niece?
How about everyone, she thought bitterly, her fingers clasped tightly
together as she tried to stop thinking.

"I mean, I explained it to him about a million times." Buffy's voice
came back into focus as the car turned into the parking lot of the
restaurant. "And he still just stood there every time I threw the ball
at him."

"Huh?" Cordelia said before realizing what Buffy was talking about.
"Sounds rough."

Buffy smiled knowingly at her as she parked the car. "It's going to be
okay Cordy."

Cordelia slumped down in the seat, her hands covering her face. "I
know." She smiled weakly as she turned to face Buffy. "Theoretically."

Buffy grinned as she got out of the car, coming around to Cordelia's
side and opening the door.  "I know you can do this."

"So do I." Cordelia retorted as she let Buffy pull her out of the car.
She followed Buffy towards the restaurant, mumbling under her breath.
"I'm just not sure if I want too."

Cordelia entered the restaurant just behind Buffy, her eyes scanning for
any sight of Xander. She found Willow easily, her bright hair visible
even in the dimly lit dining area. Looking at the table where Willow sat
she counted only one other head. One head that was covered in blonde
hair. Oz, she thought, grabbing Buffy's arm and pointing in their
direction.

She walked to the table slowly, not knowing if she was relieved or
disappointed that he wasn't there. Sitting down beside Willow she smiled
faintly, refusing to ask if he was coming. Everyone sat silently for a
minute, their usual banter missing. Oz filled the silence with news
about his new show, his unflappable nature helping to relax everyone.

The waiter came to the table, bringing the wine Willow had ordered. He
inquired if they were ready to order and Cordelia held her breath as she
waited for someone to answer.

"Not yet." Willow finally said, her eyes reluctantly meeting Cordelia's.

Cordelia breathed out softly, her stomach beginning to churn again. She
picked up her wine glass and filled it, downing the drink quickly.
Ignoring the looks Buffy and Willow were giving her she poured herself
another, but stopped with the drink halfway to her lips. Setting it back
on the table she made a face at them. "One drink for courage, two and
I'm on the floor."

They smiled sympathetically at her, an uncomfortable silence settling
over the table once more. Cordelia sighed, wishing that her panic wasn't
affecting everyone else. She forced herself to relax and leaned forward,
her voice barely trembling as she spoke. "So, does anyone have any ideas
about where to have this party? I'd offer my place, but as you know,
it's not much bigger than a tent."

She could almost feel a collective sigh of relief from the other
occupants of the table as everyone started talking at once, debating the
merits of different locations.

"I still like the idea you told me the other night." Oz said to Willow,
smiling fondly at her.

"No." Willow and Buffy answered together, shooting warning glances at
Oz.

"What was it?" Cordelia asked slowly.

"To have it at the Bronze." Oz answered her, when Willow and Buffy said
nothing.

"The Bronze?" Cordelia blurted in surprise. "But isn't that still a teen
hangout?"

"That's kinda the point." Oz  said, looking nonchalant as usual.

"And the point is?" Cordelia stared at her three friends in confusion.

"It's a flash back party." Willow replied, her enthusiasm for the idea
breaking free.

Buffy shrugged her shoulders, as she grinned at Cordelia. "To welcome
the new Slayer in the place where we used to have so much fun." Her
smiled faded as she continued. "Back when things were happier."

Cordelia stared at Buffy, knowing that she was remembering Angel and the
nights he would meet her at the Bronze. She smiled brightly, wanting to
erase the look of pain from Buffy's face. "Sounds perfect. As long as my
clothes don't have to be quite as tight, or as short as they were back
then."

"Agreed." Willow said, her smile wide. "You can even wear pants."

Cordelia laughed before asking, "So, who thought up this fantastic
idea?"

The table fell suddenly silent as Buffy and Willow glanced at each other
nervously before Buffy answered. "Xander."

Cordelia nodded, unaware that a soft smile lingered on her face. She
felt strangely proud that it was Xander's idea that they had chosen.
Looking up, she saw Buffy looking at her with a knowing glint in her
eye. Throwing her a dirty look she shook her head before smiling again.
The conversation flowed much easier after that, Cordelia almost
forgetting to be nervous about seeing Xander.

Until Buffy and Willow fell suddenly silent, their shoulders tensing.
Cordelia swore she could feel the air change in the room as butterflies
congregated in her stomach. Her heart was beating wildly by the time she
heard his voice coming from behind her.

"Sorry I'm late. I had a flat tire." His voice was nervous as he moved
into her line of sight, sitting down carefully between Buffy and Oz. He
stared at the table for a minute before lifting his eyes to hers, his
expression nothing short of terrified.

Cordelia stared back at him, drinking in the sight of him, the
restaurant and everyone else fading away. She noticed the dark circles
under his eyes, and the spot on his jaw that the razor had missed. She
stared down at his hands, nervously fidgeting with his fork. They looked
so strong and gentle, tears filled her eyes as she suddenly saw those
hands cradling their child. She closed her eyes for a moment, then
looked into his eyes, seeing the same loss she felt reflected back. She
smiled tentatively, her voice thick when she spoke. "Xander. It's good
to see you."

"You too." He managed to say, his voice cracking slightly.

Everyone was silent as the waiter came back and took their orders.
Cordelia felt calmer now, as she realized that she could do this. She
knew as she sat at the table that she loved him as much as she ever had.
But sitting there, the old gang reunited, she also knew that she hadn't
totally forgiven him yet. Maybe she never would. She pushed the thought
away, deciding that for now, being able to be sit at the same table was
enough.

She picked up her wine glass and sipped it slowly. Still holding her
wine glass she leaned forward, her tone light as she spoke to him. "So.
Flashback party?"

Xander flushed, "I thought...well, you know, what with all the..."

Cordelia leaned back in her chair, her smile widening as Xander
stuttered through his answer.
*******

______________________________________________________
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "Andrea Newbery" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Best Intentions, (12/18)
Date: 19 Jan 1999 17:19:30 PST

Title: Best Intentions
Author: Andrea
e-mail: [e-mail]
disclaimer: These characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant
Enemy, the WB, etc. They are not mine.
spoilers: Everything up to the end of season two.
distribution: Sure, just let me know.
summary: Xander/Cordelia. This fic is set in the same timeline as
Christine's amazing story, 'The Wildest Times in the World' although
technically this story takes place before that one. If you haven't read
it, e-mail me and I'll send it to you.
Feedback: Please. Good, bad, anything.
Thanks to Christine, for writing the story that started this, and for
helping me when I got stuck and for thinking up the title. And there's
still more I could thank you for. :)

Sunnydale Hospital
August 4, 2006

Cordelia woke slowly, looking at her surroundings in confusion. The
memory of the night before came back to her slowly, her ex-husband's
attack and Xander's rescue. She remembered Xander holding her as she
cried for the baby, his tears mixing with her own. Her heart caught as
the pain rushed over her again, feeling just as unbearable as it had the
night before. She barely stifled her moan, stuffing her fist to her
mouth as she tried to grieve quietly. Turning her head she pushed her
face into a pillow as she began to sob for the baby that would never be.

She lay like that for hours, ignoring the nurses that came in to check
on her and their soft murmurs of condolence. She was aware of nothing
but her pain until a soft rap on her door was followed by the entrance
of her doctor and two large policeman who hovered close to the door..
The doctor came to stand at the foot of her bed, looking at her chart
before motioning to the policemen to come closer.

The younger of the two cops looked sadly at her before clearing his
throat and speaking. "I'm sorry that we have to do this now, but we need
to know if you want to press charges."

"Charges?" Cordelia repeated blankly before realizing what he was
talking about. "Against Doug?"

"Yes." The older of the two answered, his expression impatient as he
stared at her.

Cordelia leaned back against the pillows, wanting nothing more than for
the pain to go away. She wanted to go to sleep and never wake up, never
have to remember that she had been pregnant and that she would have been
a mother. Feeling the tears pushing up her throat she swallowed loudly,
feeling her anger beginning as she thought about what Doug had stolen
from her. Her voice icy she answered them. "Yes. I want every charge you
can think of brought against him." Staring directly at the older man
until he dropped his eyes and pulled out his notepad.

"We're gonna need a statement then." The younger cop said, his voice
telling her that he thought she did the right thing.

Cordelia told the story in a calm voice, keeping her expression blank as
she spoke. They asked her questions for over an hour, the doctor keeping
a careful eye on her. When they were finally finished they warned her
that her ex-husband would probably be out on bail within the next few
days and she should be careful. "Why?" She whispered, "There is nothing
else he could take from me." She turned her head away from them,
slipping down further on the bed and pulling the covers up and closing
her eyes until she heard them leave the room.

A nurse came in soon after, offering her a sleeping pill which she took
gratefully, slipping into a dreamless sleep. She woke later to the sound
of the doctor telling her that she was free to leave whenever she felt
up to it and that her husband was still sitting in the waiting room. She
thought for a moment about telling him that Xander wasn't her husband,
but didn't. She only nodded her head slightly as she told him that she
didn't want to see anyone yet. Squeezing her hand the doctor left the
room.

Cordelia stared at the ceiling for a while, wondering why she wasn't
crying anymore, why she didn't feel anything at all. She climbed out of
the bed cautiously, feeling much older than she was. Dressing quietly,
she pulled her hair into a ponytail as she walked to the door. Peeking
outside she saw that the hallway was deserted, so she slipped out of the
room and walked down the hallway, heading in the opposite direction of
the waiting room.

She was almost at the rear doors of the hospital when someone called her
name. She paused, wanting to ignore the voice and keep walking, but
instead she turned around slowly, not saying anything.

"Cordelia...Cordy." Willow whispered; her face full of sympathy. "Where
are you going?"

"Home." Cordelia replied, wondering where home was.

"We can take you. I'll get Xander. He's waited here all day."

"No." Cordelia almost yelled, feeling totally panicked at the idea of
seeing Xander. "I don't want to see him. Please Willow, just let me go."

Willow moved forward slowly, her eyes full of tears. "He wants to help
you. We all want to help you."

Cordelia backed away from her, not wanting to feel anyone close to her
ever again. She stared at Willow, her dark eyes bright against her pale
face. "Not now. Please. Let me be." She spoke each word carefully, not
wanting any emotion to break free.

"But.." Willow said helplessly, before nodding her head. "Will you let
me come and check on you?"

Cordelia started to say no, but her fear of being totally alone with her
pain made her choke out a soft yes. Willow smiled in relief and started
to speak, but Cordelia cut her off, speaking in a voice that frightened
her with its deadness. "Just you. Not Xander. Not Buffy. No one else."

Willow swallowed nervously before nodding in agreement. Cordelia looked
at the red-head for another moment, not knowing what they could possibly
ever have to say to each other before she turned and shakily moved down
the hall to the taxi that waited outside.
*******
August 11, 2006

Cordelia stood in the doorway to her kitchen, listening to the phone
ring. She made no move to answer it, or to do anything at all. There was
nothing anyone could say that would make her feel any better, no words
that would take away the horrible emptiness that she felt. The answering
machine clicked on and Xander's voice suddenly filled the room, his
voice soft as he begged her to pick up the phone, as he apologized once
more. She waited ,frozen, until the machine clicked off and then moving
carefully she walked over to it, staring down at the message waiting
light that blinked on and off. Her finger hesitated over the erase
button, remembering when she would have given anything to hear love in
his voice for her. As she hit the button to delete the message she
realized that the one thing she wouldn't have given had been the thing
she had lost.

Wandering into the kitchen she slipped into one of the hard chairs,
setting her coffee on the table in front of her and staring into it as
it cooled. She stared into space as her mother's words echoed in her
head, telling her to get up, to get dressed and start living again. She
laughed bitterly; wishing it was that easy, wishing she could have told
her mother the real reason she hadn't left her house in over a week. But
what could she say? Guess what Mom, remember Xander, the boy that you
despised, well I found him drunk on a beach and took advantage of him,
got pregnant and then Doug came and landed a solid punch on my stomach;
I lost the baby and now can't seem to figure out one reason to even get
out of bed. That would really go over well with her parents, they still
hadn't forgiven her for leaving Doug. Her mother had been shocked when
Cordelia had told her about the divorce, pushing Cordelia to just ignore
the other women and the drinking. And her Father, his first words after
hearing about Doug's assault on her had been to ask her how she had
provoked him. She shivered slightly, imagining the phone call she would
be getting if they ever found out about the baby.  Pushing her cup away
violently she listened to it crash onto the floor before she lay her
head on the table and began sobbing once again.

A timid knock at the door made her lift her head from the table. Staring
blankly at the door she waited for who ever it was to go away.

"Cordelia?" A worried voice called out to her. "It's me. It's Willow."

Sitting back in her chair, Cordelia continued staring at the door,
unsure of what she was going to do. She hadn't really expected Willow to
come, at least after the first night she hadn't. Don't answer it, she
told herself, but the little voice in her head urged her forward, out of
her chair and towards the door. Opening it slowly she looked at the
red-head for a moment before she motioned her inside.

Cordelia walked slowly into the living room, not looking back to see if
Willow was following her. She sat down on the couch and pulled a pillow
protectively close to her.

Willow sat down cautiously in the chair across from her, leaning forward
to speak. "I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner. I...it was a Watcher thing. I
came as soon as I could."

"It's okay." Cordelia heard her voice speaking, but it sounded far away.
She pulled the pillow closer, the ever present tears choking her again.

"How are you doing?" Willow said uncomfortably, her fingers playing with
her hair.

"Fine." Cordelia whispered, her voice cracking.

Willow smiled sadly at her before speaking again. "You're not fine. It
was a stupid question." Willow stopped playing with her hair and stared
intently at Cordelia. "How can I help?"

Cordelia didn't say anything as she felt the ever present tears spill
down her cheeks. She stared pleadingly at Willow, wanting the other girl
to say something that would make it better. The new Watcher said
nothing, she just stood and came over to Cordelia, sitting beside her on
the couch and wrapping her arms around her. Cordelia stiffened as
Willow's arms held her, then she relaxed, sobbing on the redhead's
shoulder until she didn't have any tears left.

Pulling back from Willow slowly, Cordelia wiped the tears off her face,
feeling suddenly embarrassed. This was one of the people who had
betrayed her and she was crying on her shoulder. Standing up quickly she
walked towards the kitchen, speaking as she moved away. "Coffee. Do you
want some?"

Willow said a quick yes as she followed her into the kitchen. The Hacker
said nothing as Cordelia moved through the kitchen making the coffee.
She waited until Cordelia had finally sat down before speaking again. "I
want to help you through this. I know you probably don't trust me, or
even like me, but you need someone to be there for you. I know there is
no way to make up for what happened before. All I can say is that I'm
sorry. More sorry than you know."

Cordelia stared at her coffee cup, thinking that she should tell Willow
to get out of her apartment. To go and be with her real friends, but the
words wouldn't come. Looking up at Willow she spoke quietly. "Be careful
what you wish for."

"What?" Willow questioned.

"I wanted you all to think that I was a bitch, I shouldn't complain when
I got exactly what I asked for." Cordelia said simply.

"But we shouldn't have believed you. We should have known something was
wrong." Willow replied; her voice full of regret.

Her voice totally devoid of emotion Cordelia asked softly, "Why didn't
you?"

Willow didn't answer right away, stirring her coffee slowly as she
looked at Cordelia. "I don't have a good answer for that. I wish I did.
The only thing I can think of is because the things you said hurt so
much."

"What about Buffy? Angel?" Cordelia shot the names at her, and when
Willow looked perplexed she continued speaking. "Buffy was a total bitch
to you once, and you still were her friend. And Angel, he killed people
and you still tried to help him."

"It wasn't Angel." Willow spoke weakly, her face flushing.

"It wasn't me." Cordelia said flatly.

"I know that. It's just, I never expected you to treat me that way
again. I was hurt and angry and I couldn't think of a reason why you
would act any differently. There was nothing supernatural." Willow spoke
quickly, her words tumbling on top of each other.

Cordelia sat quietly for a moment, as flashes of how bad she had once
treated Willow flew through her mind. Nodding slowly she spoke. "Why did
you come to the hospital with me then, when I fainted?"

Willow looked surprised, but recovered quickly. "You were alone, and I
was watching you before you fainted. You didn't look like the
self-absorbed bitch I thought you were, you just looked lonely."

"Lonely?" Cordelia said bitterly, feeling the tears creeping into her
eyes again. "I thought that what I felt then was the loneliest a person
could ever be, but I was wrong." She let the tears slip quietly down her
face as she continued. "After I found out about the baby, I didn't feel
lonely anymore. And...and since I lost the baby I feel more alone than I
ever have."

"You don't have to be alone Cordelia. I want to be here for you, to be
your friend. The friend I always should have been." Willow promised; her
face sad.

"Until I say something wrong?" Cordelia asked bitterly.

Willow flushed, her face showing the guilt she felt. "Always Cordelia.
Even if you never say another kind thing again."

Cordelia sniffed, feeling a tiny bit of hope light inside her. Nodding
her head slightly she answered Willow. "I hate being alone."

"You've got me. And Buffy, Oz and Giles. And Xander, he never stopped
loving you." Willow smiled at her as she spoke, her relief plain on her
face.

"No." Cordelia shook her head, her face going blank. "Just you. I can't
handle anything more than that."

Willow's smile faded as she took in Cordelia's words. "They love you."

Cordelia's face fell as she implored Willow. "And I love them. But I
can't deal with it. I...please." Her stomach clenched as she waited for
Willow to answer. Not understanding why it was so much easier to deal
with Willow, but positive that if she had to face Xander or Buffy now
she would break.

"Can I tell them how you're doing?" Willow asked.

Cordelia looked at Willow, her hands running through her unwashed hair.
"Leave out the part where I'm wearing a dirty robe and my hair is a
mess." Smiling tentatively at Willow, Cordelia took a sip of her coffee.
*********


______________________________________________________
Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "Andrea Newbery" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Best Intentions, (15/18)
Date: 20 Jan 1999 15:47:36 PST

Title: Best Intentions
Author: Andrea
e-mail: [e-mail]
disclaimer: These characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant
Enemy, the WB, etc. They are not mine.
spoilers: Everything up to the end of season two.
distribution: Sure, just let me know.
summary: Xander/Cordelia. This fic is set in the same timeline as
Christine's amazing story, 'The Wildest Times in the World' although
technically this story takes place before that one. If you haven't read
it, e-mail me and I'll send it to you.
Feedback: Please. Good, bad, anything.
Thanks to Christine, for writing the story that started this, and for
helping me when I got stuck and for thinking up the title. And there's
still more I could thank you for. :)


January 21, 2007

Cordelia found herself giggling helplessly at a remark Buffy made, as
they made their way into the Bronze. She shook her head slightly as she
waited for Buffy's latest commentary on her Mother and her Watcher
falling in love to finish. She grinned to herself again, it really was
funny, although Buffy sometimes still didn't see it quite that way.
Forcing a serious expression onto her face she looked at the newly
retired Slayer, nodding her head as the other girl spoke.

"I mean, I love Giles. I really do, but to come downstairs in the
morning, all bleary-eyed and confused only to find  your Watcher making
eggs in your kitchen is just weird." Buffy stated her case with
conviction, shaking her head at the absurdity of it all. "And that is
saying a lot."

Cordelia snickered, feeling more like seventeen than twenty seven as she
looped her arm over Buffy's shoulder. "I think it's cute."

"It is cute." Buffy muttered, giving in and laughing with Cordelia.
"That's what's so icky about it. They are just way too cute."

They made their way into the Bronze, their eyes searching for the
others. Buffy saw them first, pulling Cordelia towards them. Jostling
their way through the crowd, they finally reached their table, sitting
breathlessly down beside Oz and Joyce.

Cordelia ducked her head as she said hello, afraid if she looked at
Buffy's mother she would start giggling again. Turning to Oz, she
questioned him. "Why didn't we rent the entire Bronze? I mean, you're
loaded."

"Atmosphere." Came the answer, Xander's voice sending chills down her
spine as he sat down at the table. "So, where's the rest of the gang?"

"They're getting Sonja settled in." Oz replied, his fingers tapping out
a song on the table, looking slightly wistful as he watched the band
play. "They'll be here soon."

Cordelia just nodded, not trusting herself to speak as she tried not to
look at Xander. Her mind was whirling as she glanced at him, taking in
his outfit as Buffy burst out laughing.

"Xander, I haven't seen you wear clothes that bad since high school."
Buffy shook her head at him, a fond smile on her face.

Xander looked down self-consciously, picking at the green and black
flannel shirt he wore over an orange t-shirt. "Atmosphere." He repeated
himself. "How can you expect to flash-back if I look like a normal
person?"

"True." Buffy answered, her expression distracted as she caught sight of
Willow and Giles leading the new Slayer towards them. "God. She's so
young." Her voice was low and tight as she stared at them.

Cordelia swung her head to look at the Slayer, who was much taller than
Buffy, but carried herself with the uncertainty of a child. "Hard to
believe that we were once that young."

"That poor girl." Joyce murmured. Buffy's mother had never fully
accepted her daughter's destiny, or even understood why fate would pick
such a young child.

"Mom." Buffy warned, putting her hand on her mother's arm. "I did okay,
and so will this Slayer. She'll end up at this table in 10 years,
greeting another Slayer as we all complain about getting gray hair."

"I already have gray hair." Her mother answered wryly;  her face
softening as she looked at Giles. The older woman's face spread into an
intimate smile as her eyes met Giles. Buffy turned to Cordelia, rolling
her eyes as she stood to meet the Slayer.

The next few hours passed in a jumble of laughter and talking as the
Slayerette's dazzled Sonja with tales of their adventures. They had all
laughed hysterically when she shyly confessed that Xander was her
favorite author. Laughing even harder at the look on her face when they
told her that every story he wrote was completely true. Cordelia was
having so much fun that she almost forgot that she had ever left, that
there was ever a time when she hadn't been part of this group.

Until she caught Xander staring at her, his eyes dark and inviting. Her
stomach clenched as her eyes clouded over with tears. If only, she
thought longingly, if only she had never left. If only he hadn't let her
leave. She slipped from her seat quietly, heading towards the bar for
another drink and a moment to clear her head. Leaning against the
counter for a minute, she turned in surprise when someone whispered her
name.

"Xander." She said slowly, feeling her knees go weak.

"Dance?" He asked nervously as he held his hand out to her.

She stared at him for a minute, not knowing what she would do until she
felt her hand reaching out to him. He led her silently to the dance
floor, his arms encircling her like they had never stopped. Letting him
lead her around the dance floor she closed her eyes, pretending that it
was still High School, and all  that mattered was him.

He released her slowly as the song ended, his eyes searching hers. She
stared back at him, afraid of the feelings that being close to him
awakened. Breaking away she walked quickly back to the table, avoiding
everyone's eyes. She sat down shakily, her breath loud in her own ears.
Staring at the table in front of her, she let the laughter of her
friends wash over her, trying to forget the emotions Xander still
aroused in her.

She refused to look at him when he finally came back to the table,
ignoring the pleading looks he gave her. Buffy watched both of them
carefully, before pulling Xander from the table, heading down with
Willow, Oz and Sonja to the dance floor. Cordelia looked up, smiling
wanly at Giles and Joyce, her fingers twirling the straw in her drink
absently. Joyce murmured something about getting drinks and left the
table, leaving Giles alone with Cordelia.

Turning slightly, she stared at the dance floor, watching Xander dance
with Buffy, his movements stiff. She pushed down the voice in her head
that whispered that it should be her in his arms. A soft sigh escaped
her lips as she leaned back in her chair, her eyes meeting Giles. He
smiled understandingly at her, his face knowing. "How are you Cordelia?"

"Fine." She said bravely, putting on her best smile. "Great."

"Cordelia." Giles began, pulling his glasses off his face and cleaning
them with a napkin. "I know the past few years haven't been the best for
you. I'm sorry that I didn't see what was going on when it happened. You
children are all very important to me, and I regret being to caught up
in my own pain to see what was happening."

"Children?" She replied, her eyebrows arched.

"Cordelia." He warned, refusing to be put off by her. "I see that you
still love Xander."

She stared at him silently for a minute, struggling against the urge to
cry on his shoulder. Finally she shrugged, answering bitterly. "So?"

"He is also still in love with you." Giles continued calmly, his eyes
affectionate as he glanced at Xander. Turning back to Cordelia he
considered her carefully. "So why are you not with him?"

"Giles." She started, then stopped, not knowing how to explain the empty
place inside of her, the darkness that held her back. That every time
she thought of Xander, she remembered how he had let her go. How he had
believed that she was a bitch, self-centered and shallow. Her stomach
churned with memories as Giles waited for her to answer. Taking a sip of
her drink she swallowed slowly before speaking in a low voice. "I can't
forget."

Giles looked sympathetic, putting his glasses back on before he replied.
"But can you forgive?" He spoke sadly, his eyes full of regret.
"Sometimes people we love do things that hurt us, sometimes more than we
think we can bear. But we do. And even if we can't forget the betrayal,
we try to move past it. Because love is a gift."

Cordelia stared at Giles' face; at the sadness that still lingered in
his eyes. "Ms. Calendar." She whispered softly.

Giles's looked startled, his hands flying to his face, fiddling with his
glasses. "Well, yes. Jenny betrayed me, all of us actually. And I would
never have forgotten, but I did forgive, and I thank God every day that
I did." He looked up, his expression regretful as he watched Buffy
dancing with Xander. "But I was thinking more of the cost of not being
able to forgive. It steals a piece of you, and of the people you love.
It colours everything that happens afterward."

Cordelia followed his gaze, watching Buffy laugh with Xander and Willow,
her arm slung protectively around the new Slayer. Her eyes returning to
Giles, she was surprised by the bitterness on his face. She opened her
mouth to ask him why he couldn't forgive Angel, but the question died on
her lips. He already felt bad enough, she couldn't press him on it.
Instead she took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she spoke. "So, any
suggestions?"

"Yes." Giles answered, looking relieved. "Talk to him. Give him a chance
to explain. Keep in mind Cordelia, that you were still very young when
this happened. People, especially young people make mistakes."

She nodded her head, her eyes filling with tears. "Thanks Giles."

"It is good to have you back with us Cordelia." Giles said, his face
lighting as Joyce walked back towards them. Cordelia grinned at the
happiness they had found with each other, then summoned all her courage
and headed towards the dance floor. Giles' reassuring smile following
her.

She tapped on Buffy's shoulder, a nervous half smile on her face. Buffy
turned, her eyes happy as she moved out of Xander's arms. Cordelia stood
silently staring at Xander, unsure of what to do next. He held out his
arms and she stepped into them, her fingers curling around his neck.
Leaning her head on his shoulder she felt the familiar desire at his
touch. His hands traced slow circles on her back, his touch light. She
stopped moving suddenly, pulling back to stare into his eyes. He smiled
hopefully at her, and she smiled back. Moving in closer, Xander's lips
touched hers in a chaste kiss.

She felt the electricity first, the passion she had always felt when he
kissed her, but following quickly on its heels was the memory of the
last kiss they had shared. Of Xander kissing her in anger and hatred.
Struggling out of his arms she backed away from him, every cruel word he
had said to her echoing loudly in her head. Her hand over her mouth she
turned and ran, her coat and purse forgotten.

She was standing on the street taking deep gulps of air by the time
Xander caught up to her. He handed her coat silently, holding her purse
as she struggled into her coat. She grabbed her purse from him,  her
voice on the edge of hysteria as she spoke. "Buffy drove me. I don't
have a car."

"I'll drive you." Xander offered, a forlorn look in his eyes.

"No." She said much too loudly. Composing herself, she spoke again, in a
lower voice. "I'll walk."

"I'll walk with you." He said adding quickly, "It's Sunnydale. No one
should walk alone after dark."

She didn't reply as she began walking, her entire body aware of the man
at her side. Her step was quick as she headed towards her apartment,
away from Xander. She wanted to close herself into the safety of her
apartment and forget that there was a man she loved. Forget that there
was a man who didn't have any faith in that love. Some corner of her
mind whispered that she was being unreasonable, that she had made
mistakes too. Telling that corner of her mind to be quiet she walked
even faster. She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she barely
heard Xander speak, her head turning to look uncomprehendingly at him.

"Cordelia. Please." He repeated. "Talk to me." His voice was low and
muffled almost as if he was afraid for her to hear him.

"About what?" She spoke quickly, hoping to keep the tears from falling.
"About the last six years? About the hell I went through? The Hell you
went through? The jerk I married? The baby I lost?"

"I know how hard losing the baby was on you." He whispered.

She stopped walking, turning to stare into the eyes of the father of her
child. She was speechless, trying to think of an answer, something that
could convey how much she missed the baby. His eyes answered hers as he
let her see the pain he felt. She ducked her head, not wanting to see
Xander as a father, as her child's father. She had spent the last few
months trying to find some peace, and with one look into his eyes her
loss felt new again. "Was it hard for you?" She asked unwillingly. She
didn't want to know that he mourned, that he could picture a small child
running towards him, or see traces of what could have been in other
children.

Xander took a shaky breath. He exhaled slowly, his breath brushing over
her as he spoke. "Yes." He took a step closer to her and stopped. He
looked down at her, his expression gentle as he spoke. "I wish we could
have mourned together."

She tensed, taking a step backwards. "I couldn't."

"I know." He said sadly. "I hurt you too badly."

"Everything hurt too badly." She sighed, wrapping her arms tightly
across herself. "But Willow and later Buffy, they helped me through it.
And I know they helped you too."

"They're good friends."

"The best." She smiled weakly at him. And what are we, she asked
herself. Where do we go from here? Do we share the same friends and
never become friends ourselves? She turned from him and began walking
again, feeling him fall into step beside her.

They didn't say anything else, until they were standing awkwardly in
front of Cordelia's apartment. She turned to walk into the building, but
his hand on her arm stopped her. The sensation of his arm on her flew
through her, reminding her of everything she once believed they would
have. Everything they didn't have now. Whirling around to face Xander,
she spoke desperately. "What do you want from me?"

He looked startled for a moment, his hand falling to his side. He
cleared his throat, seeming to sink into himself. "I love you."

Cordelia heard a ugly laugh come from her mouth before she spoke.
"That's not what I asked."

He was quiet again as he looked down at the pavement in front of him. "I
want to be in your life." He finally answered.

"In my life how?" She answered, feeling the pain of the last six years
form into anger. "As my friend? My lover? What?"

"Cordy..." He pleaded softly.

"I'll tell you what Xander. You come up with a reason why you turned
your back on me and we'll talk." She was almost shaking with anger as
she glared at him.

"Cordy..." He said again, his eyes welling with tears.

"Don't. Don't you dare be sad. Don't you dare look at me with those
eyes." Her voice broke as she felt tears swelling in her own eyes. How
could she love him so much and still hate him? How could he love her so
much and still have no faith in her? "Don't you dare make me feel this
again Xander. Don't make me love you."

"Isn't there any way Cordelia? Anything to make this better?" He
implored her brokenly.

"Tell me why you let me go."  She whispered softly, tears streaming down
her cheeks.

"I don't know." He replied, his hands flying into the air as he paced
around her. "Don't you think I've asked myself that question?

"Not enough, obviously." Cordelia uttered, feeling the emptiness of her
life rise up around her.

"I couldn't believe that you loved me. You were so perfect, and I always
thought you would realize what a mistake you were making. Being with
me." Xander continued as if she hadn't spoken.

She sat down heavily on the steps, folding her arms around herself as
she cried. "Why? I was crazy about you. Adored you. How could you have
doubted that?"

"I don't know." He said, sitting down beside her, his eyes full of
tears. "I don't know. You were a dream to me, and I was always afraid I
would wake up."

"You didn't trust me." She looked at him, imploring him to say something
that would make it better.

"I loved you." He offered, tears spilling down his cheeks.

"I loved you." She sobbed as she climbed to her feet. "I loved you more
than anything. I told you every secret, every thought I had. I ran to
you when I needed a shoulder to cry on. I made love with you, and
laughed with you. I was there for you."

"Cordelia." He begged, despair in his voice as he looked at her. "Please
forgive me."

She reached out to touch his face, unable to help herself as she wiped
the tears of his face. She loved him as much now as she ever had.
Nothing was going to change that. "I forgive you." She watched as hope
lit in her eyes, and felt something harden inside her as she spoke
again. "But I can't figure out how I would ever trust you again."

He fell back as if she had hit him, the hope dying. "You trust Buffy and
Willow."

"Yes." She answered simply. "But you were my everything."

"And you were mine." He said slowly, his eyes burning into hers. "You
talk about me not having any faith, but were was yours?" He stood up,
moving closer to her as he continued to speak. "Were was your faith when
you decided that I would be happy with Buffy? Why didn't you fight for
me?"

"You were kissing her." She said accusingly.

"And you didn't wait to see what happened next." Xander spoke in a tone
as accusing as hers.

"What? I should have stuck around for the second act?" Cordelia spat at
him.

"Yes." Xander retorted angrily. "You should have stuck around. Then you
would have seen me push her away, tell her that I loved you."

"You should have told me." Cordelia threw back at him.

"Admit it Cordelia." Xander said, his tone biting. "You were afraid. You
didn't trust my love. You actually thought that I would leave you for
Buffy."

Cordelia stood stunned, the truth in his words chilling her. She had
been afraid that if she challenged him he would pick Buffy. Taking an
unconscious step backwards she sat down heavily on the steps, her
thoughts jumbled. Looking up at him she whispered. "Maybe." She stared
down at her hands as she continued. "But I also thought that you
wouldn't just let me leave. I thought you would force me to tell you
what was wrong."

"I was afraid." Xander stated. "I thought that you decided that your
parents were right, that I wasn't good enough for you."

"You hated me." She forced the words through frozen lips, the thought of
the hatred she had seen on his face that night in the library still
fresh in her mind. "I never hated you, not even when I thought you would
be happy with Buffy."

"I know." Xander knelt down in front of her, taking her hands in hers
and pleading with her. "I wish I had a reason better than my stupid
pride. I wish that I could take back every mean thing I said to you, but
I can't. I'm just asking you for a chance to make it up to you."

Cordelia looked down at her hands in his, tears spilling down her cheeks
as she pulled away. What if he failed her again? What if she did
something that made him leave? She didn't think she could bear to lose
him again. "I can't." She whispered under her breath, the sharp intake
of air he took telling her that he had heard her. He stood up slowly,
tears shining in his eyes as he turned and walked slowly away, his
shoulders slumped. She sat on the step crying softly as he left, wanting
nothing more than to call him back, but unable to say a word.


______________________________________________________
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "Andrea Newbery" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Best Intentions, (16/18)
Date: 20 Jan 1999 15:48:03 PST

Title: Best Intentions
Author: Andrea
e-mail: [e-mail]
disclaimer: These characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant
Enemy, the WB, etc. They are not mine.
spoilers: Everything up to the end of season two.
distribution: Sure, just let me know.
summary: Xander/Cordelia. This fic is set in the same timeline as
Christine's amazing story, 'The Wildest Times in the World' although
technically this story takes place before that one. If you haven't read
it, e-mail me and I'll send it to you.
Feedback: Please. Good, bad, anything.
Thanks to Christine, for writing the story that started this, and for
helping me when I got stuck and for thinking up the title. And there's
still more I could thank you for. :)

February 17, 2007
Buffy's room.

"They finally set the trial date." Cordelia spoke casually, trying to
hide the fear she felt as she pulled clothes from Buffy's closet, and
threw them into two piles on the floor.

"What?"  Buffy's voice was muffled as she climbed out of the closet,
almost tripping over one of the boxes that cluttered her floor, her
expression surprised. "When?"

"Ten days." Cordelia replied shortly, a grimace crossing her face as she
stopped working for a moment and stared at her friend.

"I was starting to think that he was going to be able to delay it
forever." Buffy said, her face showing the anger Cordelia was trying not
to feel.

"Well, he"s got the best law firm in town defending him."  Her voice was
bitter as she began emptying the closet rapidly, flinging the clothes
onto the floor, not wanting to turn and see the pity on Buffy's face.
But why shouldn't she pity me, she thought angrily, how many people get
to have their Father defend the man
who tried to kill their daughter and did kill their unborn grandchild?
Taking a deep breath she struggled to control the anger she felt.

'I still can't believe he's doing that." Buffy said softly.

Cordelia shrugged her shoulders, throwing the last of the clothes onto
the second pile. "My Father would never turn down the kind of money
Doug's Father was offering, not even for his daughter."  Turning, she
faced Buffy with a bright smile on her face which faltered as she met
Buffy's eyes.  Her face was sad as she spoke again. "I've never had the
closest relationship with my parents. And once I left Doug...well, lets
just say I am not their favorite person." She closed her eyes,
remembering her Father's angry words and
the disappointment on her Mother's face when she had told them she left
Doug, but that scene was nothing compared to the visit she had received
after her parents found out she had been pregnant. She sighed loudly,
bending over to grab a handful of clothes and stuff them into a garbage
bag. "And when they
found out about the baby being Xander's..."

"They were never that happy about you dating him in High School were
they?" Buffy asked.

"Nope." Cordelia answered lightly, refusing to spend the day thinking
about her lack of relationship with her parents."Now, I thought we were
packing."

"We are." Buffy replied, getting up from the bed and walking over to the
piles of clothes. "Two piles?"

"This stuff." Cordelia said with a grin, motioning towards the pile she
was putting into a garbage bag. "Is going to the homeless shelter." She
grimaced as she held up a pair of wildly patterned leggings. "These
should have been left in the 90's where they belonged."

Buffy laughed, "What's wrong with The 90'S or my leggings?"

Cordelia stuffed the pants into the bag with distaste. "With the pants,
everything, as for the 90's, move on. It's a new century." Looking at
the much smaller second pile she put her hands on her hips as she
considered
Buffy. "Now, my housewarming present to you is going to be an entire
wardrobe of
clothes."

"Cordelia Chase Originals? Synder will think I've robbed a bank." Buffy
said, her face pleased as she took the last picture off her shelf.
"Where is Willow with the truck? We've almost got the entire room
packed."

"Excited?" Cordelia questioned her friend with a grin.

"Torn." Buffy said with a shrug. "I'm glad to finally have my own place
and get away from Giles and Mom mooning at each other, but..."

"But this is your home." Cordelia finished for her, sitting down on the
edge of the bed and looking around her. "I don't blame you. I really
love this house."

Buffy turned, staring at Cordelia in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes." Cordelia said, nodding her head decisively. "It's a happy house."
She stood up, walking over to the window and peering out into the yard.
"Although if my child slept in this room, I would cut that tree down. I
know how easy it made it to sneak out." She felt the pain flow through
her as she said the words, her grief for the child she had lost still
fresh, but somehow bearable.

She stared out the window for a moment, lost in thoughts of the baby
that would never be, not realizing that Buffy hadn't responded. Cordelia
was pulled out of her thoughts when she saw Willow's car pull up to the
curb. Turning to Buffy with a smile, she froze; the look of despair on
the other woman's face frightening her. "Buffy." She spoke worriedly, as
she crossed the room towards her. "What's wrong? I was only talking, I
don't want your house."

"It's not that." The retired Slayer said, struggling to smile. "It's
just...the window...Angel." Buffy shook her head as if she could erase
the memory. "I'm sorry."

Cordelia watched her friend, her face full of sympathy. Buffy had gotten
so much better at hiding her loneliness that the brunette sometimes
forget that Buffy had never fully recovered from losing Angel. Grabbing
Buffy's hand she pulled her over to the bed, sitting down with her she
said softly, "Tell me about it?"

"It's fine. Really , I'm fine." Buffy answered, smiling weakly.

"Liar." Cordelia murmured, her expression firm.

The smile faded from Buffy's face as she looked at Cordelia. "What? Do
you really want to hear that I still miss him every second of every day?
That sometimes I think I would trade the rest of my life for one glimpse
of him." Buffy glared at her; tears filling her eyes. "I made this
choice. I know why we did it, and I know it was the right decision. For
Giles, I sent Angel away, and for Giles, he left. End of story."

"Not the end Buffy, not if you love him the way that you do." Cordelia
whispered. "And I do want to hear. And I want you to tell."

"It still hurts so much." Buffy sobbed, her expression defeated.

Cordelia pulled her friend close to her, rocking her in her arms as
Buffy cried. She looked up when Willow entered the room, mouthing,
"Angel" to her.

Willow's face was sad as she walked over to the pair. Her hand softly
touching Buffy's shoulder she spoke. "He still loves you as much as you
love him."

Buffy's sobs began to lessen, and pulling away from Cordelia she
questioned Willow. "You've heard from him? Lately?"

Willow looked guilty as she explained to Cordelia. "I still get an
anonymous e-mail every few months. Telling me that Angel is fine." The
Watcher smiled sadly at Buffy. "I never know if I should tell you."

Buffy was silent for a minute before answering. "Maybe you shouldn't,
but I'm glad you do. As long as he's okay." Her voice was wistful as she
turned to look out her window.

Cordelia looked helplessly at Willow, wondering how they could help
Buffy. The room was silent for a while, as night covered Sunnydale,
leaving the room dark. Cordelia moved finally, reaching over to turn on
the bedside lamp, catching sight of the silver cross Angel had given
Buffy nestled in a box on the bedside table, the Claddagh ring sitting
on top of it. She took a deep breath, feeling her eyes sting with tears
as she began to speak. "I remember when I was so desperate for Angel to
notice me. I mean, there I was, the most popular girl in school, and the
hottest guy I had ever seen wouldn't give me the time of day. Preferring
to spend his time mooning after someone I considered a freak." Her voice
was light, as she made fun of the person she used to be, trying to make
Buffy remember the good times.

Buffy turned slowly from the window, her face lit with love. "I remember
the first time we tried to have a normal date." She looked at Willow
fondly as she continued. "For coffee."

The Watcher grinned at the memory. "The non-relationship drink of
choice."

Buffy laughed softly, the pain on her face fading as she reminisced.
"And of course, I got delayed by slaying. I was a mess by the time I got
to the Bronze."

Cordelia smiled at the memory. "And I was so not happy to see you walk
in. Not that Angel was looking at me even before you got there."

Willow arched her eyebrow as she spoke to Cordelia. "The first one that
got away?"

Cordelia laughed as she recited, Buffy chiming in along with her. "When
it comes to dating, I'm the Slayer."

The three woman laughed at the memory, as Buffy walked away from the
window and sat down cross-legged on the floor. Cordelia glanced at
Willow before slipping off the bed to sit on the floor with Buffy. The
redhead grabbed a pillow and threw it on the floor, flopping down on top
of it.

"Of course, by the time Halloween was over, I understood that there was
no way Angel was ever going to look at anyone else." Cordelia said
ruefully, shaking her head as she remembered the disbelief she had felt
that anyone would chose Buffy over her.

"He did love me, didn't he?" Buffy whispered. "Even then."

"God yes." Willow and Cordelia replied together.

"And we had some good times." The once Slayer whispered.

"Of course." Cordelia answered her, feeling the pain of Buffy's loss
surge through the room.

Willow spoke quickly, trying to keep the mood light. "I wonder if
Xander's planning on writing the Halloween story?"

Cordelia's stomach swirled, reacting to his name even though she tried
not to. Dropping her eyes, she stared at the floor, waiting for Buffy to
speak.

"He should." Buffy answered, her face growing sad again. "Have you
talked to him lately Cordelia?"

Stiffening, Cordelia looked up at Buffy, her eyes hurt. "Not much. Not
really since the party."

"Why not?" Buffy pressed, her eyes hardening.

Cordelia stared at Buffy, her expression begging the other woman to drop
it. When Buffy continued looking back, her eyes refusing to let Cordelia
off the hook, she spoke. "I...I can't. It hurts too much. He hated me. I
can't get past it."

"Do you love him?" Buffy shot at her, her shoulders tensing as anger
grew in her eyes.

Cordelia nodded slowly, her stomach churning now, not understanding why
Buffy suddenly looked so furious.

Buffy nodded back, climbing to her feet and staring down at Cordelia.
"Then you just do it. You forgive him. You give him a chance to prove
that you can trust him. You fight for love Cordelia, you don't just
throw it away for one mistake, no matter how big the mistake is." Tears
were streaming down her face as she stopped speaking, her face flushed
red. Buffy took a deep breath as she averted her eyes from Cordelia, and
walked over to sit on the edge of her bed. Her voice was much softer
when she spoke again. "I'm sorry. I know it's hard. But, Cordy, the only
thing I know for sure is that if the things holding you away from Xander
were the only things keeping me from Angel, I wouldn't be sitting here
with you."

 Cordelia stared quietly, shocked at Buffy's outburst and at her anger.
She thought about arguing with her, telling her that it wasn't that
simple, but sitting there with a woman who had lost her love forever she
couldn't figure out why it wasn't. Climbing to her feet, she smiled
reassuringly at Willow, who was sitting in shock on the floor. She moved
towards the window staring out into the night as she spoke. "I'll try."

"How?" Buffy asked.

"Maybe I'll see if he wants to go to a movie some night." Cordelia
offered slowly. She was silent after that, they all were. Cordelia knew
she hadn't given Buffy the answer that she wanted, if she was honest, it
hadn't been the answer she wanted either. But the betrayal she still
felt whenever Xander was near wouldn't leave her head. She leaned her
forehead against the cool glass, praying that someday she could look at
him with only love in her eyes and in her heart.
*****

______________________________________________________
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "Andrea Newbery" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Best Intentions (17/18)
Date: 21 Jan 1999 14:15:42 PST

Title: Best Intentions
Author: Andrea
e-mail: [e-mail]
disclaimer: These characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant
Enemy, the WB, etc. They are not mine.
spoilers: Everything up to the end of season two.
distribution: Sure, just let me know.
summary: Xander/Cordelia. This fic is set in the same timeline as
Christine's amazing story, 'The Wildest Times in the World' although
technically this story takes place before that one. If you haven't read
it, e-mail me and I'll send it to you.
Feedback: Please. Good, bad, anything.
Thanks to Christine, for writing the story that started this, and for
helping me when I got stuck and for thinking up the title. And there's
still more I could thank you for. :)
Special thanks to Wirchler, for reading the whole thing, and for all the
helpful comments.



"Okay, I can do this." Cordelia muttered to herself as she surveyed the
destruction of her apartment, clothes strewn over every available space.
Picking up a short black dress she eyed it critically for a minute
before dropping it in a heap on the floor. Sighing with frustration she
walked over to her full length mirror looking at the rumbled reflection
with dismay, wondering what had possessed her to even think of asking
Xander to go out with her.

"It's just a movie Cordelia." She told herself harshly, spinning away
from the mirror to grab another outfit from her closet. Pulling on the
simple blue dress she refused to look in the mirror again. Walking into
the living room, she twisted her hair into a knot and pinned it.
Slipping on her shoes she stared at the door, willing him to hurry up
before she totally lost her nerve.

The doorbell rang at exactly eight o'clock and she felt the butterflies
in her stomach multiply. She moved towards the door with all the
enthusiasm of a criminal walking to his execution. Her fingers hesitated
on the doorknob for a split second before she took a deep breath and
opened the door.

Xander smiled nervously as he looked at her, his voice low as he spoke.
"You look beautiful."

"Thanks." She answered stiffly, grabbing her coat and moving out of her
apartment quickly. She bumped against him in her hurry to get outside,
causing the knot in her stomach to pull tighter. Moving away she headed
down the stairs, thankful for once that her building didn't have an
elevator. She was worried enough about sitting next to him at the movie
theater.

Xander went ahead as they exited the building, opening the car door for
her and shutting it behind her. She snuck a look at him as he walked
around the car, taking in his well cut pants and obviously expensive
shirt. He looked gorgeous, she admitted to herself, with a strange
feeling of loss. An ache formed inside her as she wished for a moment
that he had shown up wearing something that didn't match. That Xander
she knew, this Xander who opened car doors and dressed well was a
stranger to her.

"So." Xander started, clearing his throat nervously as he drove towards
the theater. "How are you?"

Cordelia swallowed, amazed at the layers that simple question had. How
was she about the baby? How was she about the fact that her ex-husband
went on trial in three days? How was she about her parents betraying her
to protect Doug? Or the fact that her parents had told all their friends
that their daughter had a breakdown? Or maybe, he just wanted to know if
she was healthy. Sighing softly, she wished for just one moment of
clarity, just a short second where she actually knew what she was doing.
"I'm fine. You?"

"Same. I've got a new book coming out soon."

"Really?" Cordelia asked, eager for something to talk about that didn't
involve her. Funny, it used to be all she wanted to talk about. "What's
it about?"

"Spike and the parent-teacher night." Xander answered with a faint
smile.

"God." Cordelia leaned back against the seat as she remembered the night
she had spent praying in a closet with Willow. Shaking her head at the
memory she turned to Xander. "Poor Willow, stuck in the closet with me."

"I don't know." Xander replied slowly. "I always enjoyed being in the
closet with you."

Cordelia felt the butterflies swarm as her cheeks turned red. She must
have made out with Xander in every closet in Sunnydale, as well as every
empty room with a lock. They had been insatiable in those days, never
able to wait to be alone. Cordelia couldn't count how many classes she
had been late for or missed all together because of him. "I still can't
believe we did that." Her voice was soft as she spoke. "We must have
been insane."

"Or in love." Xander whispered, his expression hopeful before turning
his attention back to the road in front of him, his fingers tapping
nervously on the steering wheel.

Cordelia couldn't speak after that, the lump in her throat was too big
to allow words through. Not that it mattered, she thought, because I
can't think of anything to say. She stifled a sigh as she leaned back
against the cool leather seats.

They were at the theater quickly, both of them uncomfortable as they
walked in and took their seats. It didn't really matter that she hadn't
seen any of the previous Star Wars movies, because Episode three or
whatever it was called passed by in a blur for her, as she couldn't
think of anything but the man sitting next to her. She stood quickly
when the movie was over, not looking behind her to see if he was
following. She was almost back at his car when he spoke.

"Cordelia?" Xander's voice was low and shaking slightly as he spoke. "Do
you, will you...um, do you want to go for a walk?"

Cordelia spun around to stare at him, his expression familiar to her.
This was the Xander she knew, the Xander she loved. The guy who always
expected to be rejected but tried anyway. She nodded slowly, a weak
smile appearing on her face. "Sure. But lets keep to Main street, I
haven't seen one vampire since I moved back, and I like it that way."

"Done." He said, his expression relaxing as he smiled at her. Turning
they walked down Main street, moving slowly as Cordelia peered in shop
windows and watched the people walking by.

"Are you still making clothes?" Xander asked, finally breaking the
silence.

"Not really." Cordelia answered, shrugging her shoulders slightly. "I
couldn't open the shop...after. But I'm doing a new wardrobe for Buffy.
And I have some regular clients that I still do clothes for."

Xander looked at her with pain in his eyes, but said nothing. Cordelia
felt a chill run through her as she realized that every word they spoke
was like walking in a minefield, trying to avoid the pain of the last
few years. Her stomach tightened as they continued walking, not knowing
how they could ever make it any better.

"This isn't working, is it?" Xander said finally, his voice defeated.

"No. It isn't." She replied, her voice suddenly thick with emotion.
Tears clouded her vision as she realized how badly she had wanted it to
work. That she had actually believed that somehow they could just step
back into the past and everything would be as it was. She had been able
to fool herself somewhat when they were with the others, letting their
friends act as buffers to the pain that was between them, but alone
together the pain was too deep and too raw. She stopped walking,
standing silently on the street as he looked at her, his face a
reflection of her loss. Making up her mind, she forced a light-hearted
smile on her face. "Let's start over."

"Huh?"

"Let's pretend that we have no history together. That we just met." She
said, her voice getting lighter as she spoke. "Hi. I'm Cordelia. And you
are?"

"Alexander Harris." He replied, a smile beginning on his face. "But
everyone calls me Xander."

"Xander." She repeated him, feeling more comfortable than she had all
evening. "Well Xander, would you like to get a cup of coffee with me?"

"I would love to." He answered, the smile fully formed now. He took her
arm as he led her into the coffee shop, finding them a table by the
window. They sat down on the high stools, the coffee steaming the window
in front of them.

"So." Cordelia began, stirring her coffee. "What do you do?"

"I'm an author." He replied slowly, looking at her like she had possibly
lost her mind.

"Really?" She answered with teasing disbelief. "Published?"

"Of course." He said in an injured tone. "They're young adult novels
though, so you've probably never heard of them."

Cordelia pretended to be thinking for a minute, before making an
expression of shock cover her face. "Alex Harris?" Her voice was full of
mock surprise as she continued. "I've read all of your books. I love
them. It's amazing the way you write these outlandish stories so that
they seem to be true. And your characters are so alive, so
three-dimensional. My favorite has got to be Joss. He has no super
powers and he's not a computer whiz, or a good vampire, but he still
throws himself into helping. I loved it when he saved the cheerleader
from getting her head cut off and becoming Frankenstein's bride."

Xander was laughing openly by the time she finished gushing. He leaned
towards her and spoke in a low whisper. "The cheerleader is my
favorite."

Cordelia felt herself blushing as she looked into his dark eyes. She
felt herself drowning in them as they stared at each other. Averting her
eyes she concentrated on her coffee as she spoke again. "Why? She's so
self-centered and mean."

"No. She isn't." Xander spoke confidently. "She's changed with every
book, growing into a wonderful person."

Cordelia felt warmth spread through her as she smiled at him, shaking
her head slowly. "Getting a little to involved with your characters?"

Xander grinned defiantly back at her. "I'm in love with her."

Cordelia's smile froze as she struggled to catch her breath. "Why didn't
you make her truly despicable? I mean, you hated me, and I really was
awful in High School, so why not?"

Xander looked shocked for a minute at the swift return to reality. He
swallowed slowly, his hands wrapped around his coffee cup. "I tried.
Believe me I tried, but I couldn't. Every time I tried to write it my
fingers would freeze. Because however much I hated you, I loved you
more."

Cordelia felt her eyes filling with tears as she sipped her coffee. "It
always comes back to this, doesn't it??" She continued without waiting
for a response. "That you hated me. I never hated you, not even when I
thought you would be happy with Buffy."

Xander didn't look at her as he answered. "I was just so hurt. I thought
everything we had didn't mean anything to you. That you wanted the
perfect life, with the rich husband and the country clubs."

"Why didn't you wish me well then?" She spoke wistfully. "When I saw you
kissing Buffy I wanted to kill you, kill Buffy. I wanted to make you
hurt, but I never hated you. I let you go because I loved you. That's
what I can't get past. You hated me so much that it almost destroyed
you."

Xander looked up at her then, his eyes sad. "I wish I had an answer for
you. I wish I had an answer for me, but I don't. You were so perfect, we
were so perfect together. You know how bad my childhood was, that I
never felt loved or wanted, but when I fell in love with you, none of
that mattered. You accepted all of me, gave up your friends and defied
your parents to be with me. And it changed everything, I finally felt
whole. But when you left, everything came back, all my parents taunts
about being worthless felt like they were true, and it hurt too much. So
I hated you because it was easier than hating myself."

Cordelia was crying silently by the time he finished speaking, her hand
reaching out to cover his. Her other hand reached out to touch his face,
her touch gentle as she looked at him. "That's an answer." Pulling her
hand back softly she smiled sadly at him. "We did a lot of damage to
each other." Xander looked at her, his face a mixture of hope and pain
that almost made her break into tears again, her throat constricting as
she continued. "I'm afraid to try again."

"I know." Xander whispered, his eyes glistening as he waited for her to
continue.

"I don't know if it could ever be what it was." Cordelia spoke softly,
her heart pounding in her throat.

"It might be better." Xander smiled tentatively at her, his fingers
reaching out for hers.

Taking his hand in hers Cordelia held on to it tightly as she nodded.
They left the coffee shop soon after, holding hands as they silently
walked back to Xander's car. He moved to open the door for her and she
stopped him with a grin. "I'm sorry, but you being the gentleman is just
too strange."

Xander laughed as he pulled the door open. "I was trying to impress
you."

"You forget, I fell for you when your clothes didn't match and your idea
of a date was sharing a ho-ho with me." Cordelia laughed softly as she
stepped into the car.

Xander grinned at her, his relief almost palatable in the close confines
of the car. She leaned back against her seat and stared at him as he
drove, allowing herself the pleasure of looking at him. It seemed like
seconds before they were parked outside her apartment. She swallowed,
suddenly nervous again as she spoke. "Will you be at the trial?"

Xander nodded, his eyes bright again as he looked at her. "Yes."

"Good." Cordelia murmered, sliding out of the car and moving towards her
apartment. "Maybe after it...maybe we could talk?"

"I'd like that." Xander said, stepping out of his car to watch her walk
into the building.

She nodded, ducking her head as a small smile crossed her face. Turning
she watched him get back in his car and drive away. She stood in the
doorway for another few minutes, the smile lingering. "Me too."
*****

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-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "Andrea Newbery" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Best Intentions, (18a/18)
Date: 22 Jan 1999 17:24:58 PST

Title: Best Intentions
Author: Andrea
e-mail: [e-mail]
disclaimer: These characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant
Enemy, the WB, etc. They are not mine.
spoilers: Everything up to the end of season two.
distribution: Sure, just let me know.
summary: Xander/Cordelia. This fic is set in the same timeline as
Christine's amazing story, 'The Wildest Times in the World' although
technically this story takes place before that one. If you haven't read
it, e-mail me and I'll send it to you.
Feedback: Please. Good, bad, anything.
Thanks to Christine, for writing the story that started this, and for
helping me when I got stuck and for thinking up the title. And there's
still more I could thank you for. :)
Special thanks to Wirchler, for reading the whole thing and giving me
many helpful comments.



Sunnydale Courthouse
March 4, 2007


Cordelia took a deep breath before stepping out of Buffy's car, her face
pale as she turned to face her friends. Smiling wanly at Willow she
reached out to grab the redhead's hand, Buffy's arm looping over her
shoulder as they walked silently towards the courthouse. Cordelia
hesitated just outside the courtroom, nervously smoothing her skirt
before she walked into the room, her friends flanking either side of
her. She flashed a nervous smile at the prosecutor before she slipped
into the seat behind him, trying not to look at the other side of the
room. She kept her head down, fiddling with the hem on her skirt as she
heard her Father whispering instructions to the lawyer handling the
case. Looking sideways at Buffy she tried to smile as her eyes filled
with tears. "I guess I should be grateful he's not actually arguing it
himself."

Buffy grabbed her hand squeezing it gently as she turned to glare at Mr.
Chase. "I'm sorry Cordy."

"Don't be." Cordelia answered, swallowing back the tears. "My whole life
I was taught that appearances and money mean more than anything. You
were supposed to marry a rich man and maintain the picture of a perfect
life, no matter what the cost. As far as they're concerned, I'm the
problem, not Doug."

"But they're your parents." Buffy's voice was frustrated as she watched
Cordelia's parents.

"And according to them, they're doing what any parent would do, protect
their daughter from making a mistake." She answered Buffy, her tone
resigned. "I think they've been telling their friends that I had a
breakdown."

Buffy squeezed her hand even tighter, her face sympathetic. Willow
leaned in close then, her face worried. "Are you sure you want to be
here?"

"Yes." Cordelia nodded firmly. "Anyway, I'm the star witness, I have to
be here." She glanced quickly at the back of the room, wondering where
Xander was, torn between wanting desperately to have him with her and
wanting him far away where her father couldn't get to him. She
swallowed, feeling nauseous as she wondered what exactly her Father
would do to keep Doug from being convicted. Anything, she answered
herself, closing her eyes as her stomach clenched. He had said as much
when he had called her the night before, giving her one last chance to
drop the charges. It had been like talking to a stranger, his voice cold
and formal as he threatened to ruin Xander's career if she didn't stop
this madness. Her stomach rolled a little faster as she tried to imagine
what her Father could possibly say about Xander, or about her.

She looked up, her eyes locking with her Mother's, the older woman's
eyes hard as she stared at her daughter. Cordelia shivered slightly,
breaking eye contact. She knew her Mother, knew that whatever the
outcome of the trial that her Mother would still expect her to show up
at their weekly dinner on Thursday. Her Mother wouldn't understand that
she had betrayed her daughter, and she would be properly teary as she
forgave Cordelia for making Doug stand trial. Cordelia had been through
this too many times for it to even hurt anymore. By the time she was
eight she had figured out that her Mother was never going to be there
for her, not in any ways that mattered.

Buffy's grip on her hand tightened as the blonde turned to greet her
Mother and Giles. Cordelia swung around, a surprised look on her face.
"I didn't know you were coming."

Giles patted the top of her head awkwardly as he sat down in the row
behind them. "We're here for you." He said simply, his smile comforting.

Joyce leaned in and kissed her cheek, whispering in her ear. "Your
parents are idiots if they don't realize what a wonderful daughter they
have."

Cordelia felt her eyes swim with tears as she turned back to the front
of the courtroom, knowing that she did have parents still in Giles and
Joyce. Buffy smiled knowingly at her, tilting her head as she replied to
Cordelia's unspoken thought. "We're family."

The tears flowed out of her then as she nodded in response, her lips
trembling as she looked at each of them. "I know." She caught a glimpse
of the door opening as she turned back around, her heart beating louder
as Xander pushed past Willow to sit next to her. He grabbed her hand and
held it tightly. Cordelia stared at her hand in his before looking up to
meet his eyes.

Xander stared back at her, his expression hard to read. His voice was
determined as he spoke. "Let me do this. Let me be here for you and for
our baby. We'll worry about the rest after."

Cordelia stared at him for a long moment, biting her lip to keep from
crying again. She finally nodded, unable to speak and laced her fingers
through his, as they turned to stare at the front of the court. Doug
entered then, followed by the elder Mr. Foster who glared icily at
Cordelia before greeting her Father warmly, his loud laugh ringing out
in the quiet courtroom. The Judge entered then and jury assembled as the
room was called to order and the charges read. The assistant District
Attorney spoke first, painting a picture of a loveless marriage and a
cheating, drunken husband who had only chased his wife to keep from
losing his inheritance. A man who would have killed his ex-wife and did
kill her unborn baby out of spite that she had refused to return to him.

Then her Father's lackey stood, his voice smooth as he countered the
prosecutor, telling a much different tale, of a woman who had almost
driven her husband crazy by her love for another man. A woman who had
denied her husband any love and driven him to drink. He pointed Cordelia
out, commenting on her beauty and poise, wondering aloud how any man
could bear to lose such a woman. Then, with a frosty smile he had
thrust, telling of a woman who had pretended to be attacked to try and
win the love of another man, a woman who had made up a story about her
ex-husband to get back at him for not giving her any alimony and the
friends who had agreed to help her with the charade. He pointed to her
parents, speaking of the worry of a Father who knew his daughter had
lost her grip on reality.

Cordelia was in shock by the time he finished speaking, staring
helplessly at her Father with tears streaming down her face. Her
fingernails were digging into Xander's hands as she turned to look at
the jury, seeing them watching her with mistrust. Buffy grabbed her
other hand, whispering in her ear. "It's okay. No one is going to fall
for that."

"You don't know my Father." Cordelia replied, her voice hopeless as the
prosecutor called his first witness, the doctor who had treated her when
she lost the baby. The doctor was calm and cool as he described the
injury that had caused her to lose the baby as being a severe force to
her midsection. He also described the bruising around her neck as being
the imprints of fingers. The defense had stood then, asking if the
bruises were definitely caused by his client, to which the doctor had to
say that they weren't, and that the force to her stomach couldn't be
proven to come from a punch.

Cordelia shivered as the doctor was excused, her fingers icy as Willow
was called to the stand. The Watcher was a good witness, her voice
confident, as she related seeing Doug strangling Cordelia and how she
had run for help. She was calm as she repeated Doug's words, telling the
court that he had admitted to her that he only wanted Cordelia so he
wouldn't lose his trust fund.  Willow's eyes got teary as she related
the loss of the baby and how hard it was on Cordelia.

The defense lawyer stood then, his smile broad as he moved close to
Willow, asking why she had broken off contact with Cordelia for five
years. The Watcher faltered, her eyes locking with Cordelia's before
mumbling softly that they had a misunderstanding. The lawyer's smile
broadened as he asked his next question, seemingly pondering almost to
himself if Willow felt bad about the misunderstanding. The Watcher
admitted she did, her voice uneasy as she sensed his intentions. The
lawyer had asked his next question quickly, knowing that the prosecutor
would object, and also that the jury would remember the question even
without an answer.  "So, Miss Rosenburg, you wanted to make things up to
your friend? Maybe by helping her to frame an innocent man?" He smiled
confidently as he withdrew the question and walked back to his seat.

Cordelia turned to Xander, her face drained off all color. "How could my
father have known? I never said anything about it to him, I swear."

Xander gripped her hand even tighter, looking her straight in the eyes
as he answered. "I know."

Cordelia stared back at him, feeling a tiny surge of hope flow through
her at his belief in her.  Her mind continued racing as she tried to
figure out how her father had figured out that she hadn't left six years
ago for the reasons she had told them. She looked across at her parents,
who stared back with fake concern, their expressions clearly telling the
jury that they loved their poor insane daughter and only wanted the best
for her. Breaking eye contact she turned away, catching sight of Doug as
she turned, her stomach sinking as she remembered the journals she had
left in the apartment in her rush to escape, the journals that had held
her every thought about Xander, Buffy and Willow. The journals had been
her only outlet, her only escape from her loneliness. And now they would
be used to help the man who had killed her child. Lifting her head she
locked her eyes onto Doug, rage spilling through her as she watched his
relaxed demeanor. Breathing quickly Cordelia turned away, her rage
changing to guilt as she spoke quietly to Buffy and Xander. "My
journals. I'm so sorry. I left them behind when I left Doug. He knows
everything."

Xander nodded grimly without looking at her, his eyes fastened onto the
district attorney. The attorney stood and asked Willow one more
question. "Miss Rosenburg, did you lie for Cordelia Chase?"

"No." Willow stated loudly. "At the time of the attack Cordelia and I
were still estranged. I had no reason to lie for her."

"No further questions." The assistant District Attorney said as he
returned to his seat and waited patiently for Willow to leave the stand
before calling Buffy as the next witness. The retired Slayer smiled at
Cordelia before she walked to the stand, her voice clear as she promised
to tell the whole truth. Sitting down in the chair Buffy watched the
defense table with the same expression she had once reserved for demons
about to meet their fate.

Buffy quickly related the same story Willow had told about Doug and the
venom he had directed at Cordelia after Xander had subdued him. The
district attorney returned to his chair glancing worriedly at Cordelia
before sitting down. Then the defense stood, the lawyer wasting no time,
throwing  his questions at Buffy with a distasteful look. "Miss Summers,
isn't it true that Cordelia Chase saw you kissing Alex Harris and that
is the reason that she left Sunnydale six years ago?"

"Yes." Buffy replied slowly, her face flushed as she stared straight at
the lawyer.

"So you would like to make up for that mistake, especially considering
the fact that you blamed Ms. Chase for her leaving and the subsequent
problems that Alex Harris encountered?"

"If you mean, would I like to make it up to her by lying, then no."
Buffy answered, her eyes flaming. "I did not lie for Cordelia."

"And yet you are friends with Ms. Chase now. How did you manage to get
her to forgive you for kissing her boyfriend if not by helping her ruin
her ex-husband?"

"I apologized." Buffy said softly, her glance meeting Cordelia's.

"Really?" The lawyer said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And after
six years of misery that was all it took?" He didn't wait for her to
answer before stating he had no further questions. Buffy slipped from
the stand, her back straight as she walked back to sit beside Cordelia,
her hand grabbing the other girls. Leaning in close to Cordelia Buffy
whispered. "I don't like him. At all."

Cordelia smiled at her friend, her attention going back to the
prosecutor who was calling Xander to the stand. She turned to him, her
voice panicked as she spoke. "You don't have to do this. I can drop the
charges. They know everything Xander. I wrote about your family life and
about the letter Willow sent telling me about your drinking. There was
everything in those journals."

"I'm doing this." Xander declared, his voice harsh as he slipped his
hand from hers. Lifting her hand to his mouth he kissed it softly. "They
can't hurt me."

Walking confidently to the stand Xander turned and was sworn in, taking
his seat with a grace that was new to Cordelia. The brunette turned to
Buffy, whispering urgently. "He doesn't understand. I wrote about his
drinking and how Willow said he wanted to die. This will ruin him."

"No it won't." Willow answered, sliding closer to Cordelia, leaning in
so that Buffy could hear as well. "Xander went to the District Attorney
weeks ago. He told him everything about his past, about the two of you
and why you were estranged. He was worried about something like this
happening, but he swore me to secrecy."

"Why?" Cordelia mumbled, her voice choked as she stared up at Xander.

"Because he loves you." Willow replied slowly. "And he wanted to protect
you. He still feels so guilty about everything and he blames himself for
losing the baby."

"Blames himself?" Cordelia repeated dimly, turning to look at Willow.

Nodding, the Watcher took her hand, pressing it tightly as she spoke.
"Because if he had let you explain things to him before the auction, he
would have been there to protect you from Doug."

"He saved me from Doug." Cordelia whispered, tears falling unnoticed
down her cheeks. "It wasn't his fault. I have to tell him." She moved to
get up, but Buffy's hand stopped her. Turning to the blonde with a
questioning look she sat back down.

"You have to let him do this Cordy." Buffy uttered. "Doug killed his
baby too."

Cordelia's eyes swung from Buffy to Willow, every instinct in her
screaming for her to do something to keep Xander safe. To keep him from
sacrificing himself for her, she had done that once and all it had
brought was misery, she couldn't let Xander make the same mistake.
Breathing deeply she turned to Giles, knowing he was listening to
everything they said. "Giles?" She begged, needing him to tell her what
to do.

The older man smiled calmly at her, leaning slightly forward to answer
her. "It's not a sacrifice Cordelia. He's not giving anything up. Not
anything that is important to him."

Cordelia nodded, turning back around she fastened her eyes on Xander,
straightening her shoulders and letting the pride she felt show on her
face.


______________________________________________________
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "Andrea Newbery" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Best Intentions, (18b/18)
Date: 22 Jan 1999 17:25:22 PST

disclaimers in 18a.

"Mr. Harris, are you telling the court that on the night of the attack
you were still under the impression that Ms. Chase had left you because
she felt that you weren't good enough for her?" The prosecutors voice
was gentle as he spoke.

"Yes." Xander replied, his regret evident.

"We have heard from Miss Summers that the real reason Ms. Chase left
town was due to witnessing a kiss between Miss Summers and yourself. Is
this true?"

"Yes." Xander spoke painfully, as if the word had ripped through his
throat.

"And when did you realize that this was the reason Ms. Chase had left
town?"

"After Doug attacked her. Willow and Buffy told me that Cordelia was
pregnant, and I left to go look for her. She told me then." Xander's
voice was agonized, his eyes bright with tears as he spoke of that
night.

"I see. And this was after the police had arrested Mr. Foster?"

"Yes."

"So at the time you subdued Mr. Foster and called the police, you had no
reason to want to help Ms. Chase?"

"No." Xander whispered, his eyes full of pain and guilt as he met
Cordelia's eyes.

The district attorney stopped there, sitting down as the defense stood
and began to speak.

"Mr. Harris, you were in love with Ms. Chase at the time of her
departure six years ago, were you not?"

"Yes."

"And what was your reaction to her departure?"

"I was hurt and angry." Xander said nervously.

"I see. And how did you show this anger?" The defense continued at
Xander's confused look. "Did you, by chance, start drinking to deal with
your loss?"

Xander sat back, taking a deep breath before nodding slowly. "Yes."

"I see." The defense lawyer smiled, his voice disarming as he asked his
next question. "Do you know who the father of Ms. Chase's baby was?"

"Yes."

"Was it you?"

"Yes." Xander said quietly, his voice a mixture of pride and pain.

"And how did Ms. Chase manage to become pregnant with your child if you
were still estranged at the time of the attack?"

The pulse in Xander's neck jumped as he looked to Cordelia. She smiled
back, her gaze trying to tell him that it was okay.  "I was drunk and we
made love. I didn't remember it in the morning."

"So Ms. Chase took advantage of your weakness?" The defense attorney
said coldly, turning to look at his client. "As she took advantage of
her husband's weakness."

"No." Xander shouted, almost leaping from his chair before regaining
control.

The defense attorney smiled, walking back to his seat. The district
attorney shuffled through his papers for a moment before standing again.
Walking toward Xander he spoke in a conversational tone. "Mr. Harris, do
you blame Ms. Chase for your drinking problem?"

"No."

"But you started drinking to deal with losing her, how could you not
blame her?"

"Cordelia didn't make me drink. I did. It was a choice I made." Xander
replied calmly.

"What do you remember about the night your child was conceived?"

"I remember Cordelia crying and telling me that she loved me. And
telling me that she hadn't wanted to leave me." Xander said slowly, his
eyes locked on Cordelia's.

"Do you think Ms. Chase took advantage of your weakness?"

"No. She stayed with me when I was to drunk to get home. And I made love
with her, because I love her not because I was drunk."

"Thank you, Mr. Harris." The prosecutor said, dismissing him as he
turned to Cordelia. "I call Cordelia Chase to the stand."

Cordelia stood shakily, her hands slipping from Buffy and Willow as she
walked towards the witness stand, her fingers brushing against Xander as
he passed her. She spoke firmly as she was sworn in and sat down,
careful to avoid looking in the direction of the defense. The district
attorney was gentle as he took her through the events of the night of
the attack, and through the loss of her child. Cordelia managed to keep
from crying, her voice thick as she spoke of the loss of her child.

"Ms. Chase, tell us about your marriage? Was it happy?"

"No. Doug drank all of the time and he cheated on me from our wedding
day."

"Did you love him?"

"No." Cordelia answered clearly.

"But you stayed with him while he cheated on you and through his
drinking. Why did you finally leave him?"

"Because he told me that he had only married me to keep his trust fund
intact." Cordelia replied, her face red as she stared down at her hands.

The district attorney stopped questioning her there, letting the defense
begin. "Ms. Chase, I know the loss of your child has been very hard on
you, and we all feel your pain. I know you want someone to blame, but
sometimes these things just happen." He paused there, smiling sadly at
the jury. "Let's talk about your marriage. Is it true that you spent
most nights in your room, crying for another man?"

Cordelia hesitated, her eyes pulled unwillingly to her parents, unable
to comprehend how they could do this to her. "Yes."

"And you denied your husband your marriage bed?"

"Yes."

"Do you deny that you were cold to your husband, pushing him into the
arms of other women to find the love he should have had at home?"

"Push?" Cordelia repeated incredulously. "He slept with my maid of
honor, how did I push him into that?"

"Ms. Chase, please answer the question."

"Yes. I deny that I pushed him to other women. I was a good wife. I was
always there for him, he just preferred to be with his friends or his
women." Her voice was angry now, her eyes hardening as she stared at the
defense attorney.

"When you married Mr. Foster, did you love another man? Did you love
Alexander Harris?"

"Yes." She answered proudly, refusing to feel guilty for it. There were
many things she regretted, but loving Xander wasn't one of them.

The defense attorney stopped questioning her there, obviously surprising
her Father, who leaned forward to whisper furiously to the man. The
district attorney didn't ask her any further questions and Cordelia
walked from the witness stand back to her seat in time to hear the judge
call for lunch break. The entire group walked out into the hallway
quietly, the events of the morning draining them. Cordelia pulled away
from the group, slipping into the bathroom. She stood staring at her
reflection in the mirror, taking in the dark circles under her eyes and
the paleness of her skin. Dropping her head she began to cry, her sobs
echoing in the empty room. The door pushed open and she lifted her head
to see who had entered. Willow and Buffy walked over to her, pulling her
into a hug. Cordelia leaned on her friends, sobbing brokenly. "I did
this. If I had remembered about those stupid journals Doug wouldn't have
had a chance and they never would have been able to hurt Xander."

"Cordelia. Stop this." Buffy said firmly. "Doug will be found guilty,
and Xander doesn't blame you."

Cordelia pulled back, her breath coming in short gasps as she tried to
regain control. Nodding at her friends     she let them pull her from
the bathroom, not even noticing that her make-up had been washed off by
her tears. They rejoined the rest of the group in the hallway, no one
mentioning the trial as they walked to a nearby restaurant. Cordelia
hung back slightly, afraid to come to close to Xander. What could she
say to him? She had messed up everything by not remembering the
journals. Xander slowly drifted back to her, walking silently beside
her. She snuck a glance at him, unable to read anything from his
expression. A small ache formed in her stomach as she longed for the
days when his face had told her everything. Her voice was small as she
forced herself to speak. "I'm so sorry about the journals. I was in such
a hurry when I left Doug, I never even gave them a thought."

Xander stopped, turning her to face him. "It's not your fault. And it's
nothing you have to be sorry for. They would have found out about my
drinking anyway, lots of people knew about my problem."

"But...but I did that to you. I left you and I made you drink." Cordelia
whispered.

"I meant what I said on the stand. Drinking was my choice, not yours. I
don't blame you for it." Xander spoke softly, his voice determined.

"Just like marrying Doug was mine." Cordelia replied bitterly. "And
because of me, he's going to get away with what he did."

"Don't." Xander said harshly, his fingers digging into her shoulders.
"Doug attacked you. Doug killed our child. It is no one's fault but
his." He released her shoulders, his arms dropping to his sides as he
continued. "And mine."

"No." Cordelia replied firmly, her hands reaching out for his as she
finally admitted to herself, and to him that he had lost as much as she
had with Doug's attack. Her eyes were bright as she stared at Xander,
seeing him for the first time as not only her High School sweetheart, or
the man who had hated her, but as the father of her child. The man who
had been denied the right to know that child, first by her, and then by
Doug.  "Nothing that happened with Doug was your fault."

"If I had listened to you...if I had one ounce of faith in you..."
Xander spoke angrily. "If I had taken one minute to think of why you
were leaving, instead of the fact that you were leaving."

Cordelia interrupted him, her voice loud. "Stop. Right now." She
pronounced every word clearly, flinging her hair off her face as she
considered him. "Nothing that I did or that you did made it okay for
Doug to attack me. Nothing that we did made us deserve to lose our
child. Nothing." As she spoke the words she felt a huge weight floating
from her shoulders. It wasn't her fault that the baby had died, and it
wasn't her fault that Xander had started drinking. Just like it wasn't
his fault that she had left and married a miserable bastard. Her hand
was gentle as she touched his arm. "Xander, when I found you on the
beach, you told me that you had always loved me. Maybe I took advantage
of you, but I don't regret it. It was a beautiful night where the past
had no place. We loved each other that night and our baby was created
from it. That baby would have lived a wonderful life if not for Doug."

"But..." Xander started.

"No. That's all there is Xander. It is not your fault." Cordelia took a
deep breath as she finished speaking, looking ahead of her to see the
group waiting for them at the edge of the parking lot. "We can assign
blame for a lot of the things we did, but this isn't one of them."
Pulling his hand she began walking towards their friends.



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From: "Andrea Newbery" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Best Intentions, (18c/18)
Date: 22 Jan 1999 17:25:40 PST

disclaimers in 18a

Everyone was quiet at lunch, thinking of the afternoon ahead of them and
wondering what the defense had in store for them. They headed back to
the courtroom in the same silence they had left it. Sitting quietly into
their seats and waiting for the defense to begin calling witnesses.
Doug's father was called to the stand first, the older gentleman firmly
denying that he had threatened his son's trust fund at any point. He was
smooth and convincing and Cordelia felt herself sinking as she listened
to him speak. The prosecutor tried to break his story, but was
unsuccessful. Her father took the stand next, his voice breaking as he
told of his daughter's descent into her own reality. His voice shaking
as he told of the wonderful daughter who hadn't been able to handle her
husband's infidelity and had therefore made up a world in which the
boyfriend she had dumped after high school was the perfect man. The
prosecutor had better luck with him, asking him why he had agreed to
defend the man who had allegedly attacked his daughter.

"Because we knew that it wasn't true." Mr. Chase replied smoothly.

"And how do you explain the bruising on her neck and the loss of her
child?" The prosecutor countered.

"Her so-called friends must have helped her."

"So, you are in fact accusing your daughter of killing her unborn child
to frame her ex-husband?"

"No." Mr. Chase mumbled, his face flushing at the implication. "She must
have lost the baby and then concocted this plan."

"I see. So your daughter was lying in a hospital bed, having just lost
her child and her husband was already under arrest for attacking her,
yet somehow she made a plan up. How do you explain Mr. Foster's presence
earlier in the evening?"

"He came to talk to her. To see if she would give their marriage another
chance. He did not attack her." Mr. Chase's voice was unsure now, his
face still flushed.

"Are you sure?" The prosecutor said gently.

"Yes." Mr. Chase answered looking directly at Cordelia for the first
time. She met her father's eyes slowly, his gaze burning through her.
When her Father spoke again, his voice was thicker. "No. I am not sure."

The defense table began buzzing, Doug's father leaning close to the
lawyer and speaking quickly. Her Father left the stand, his eyes bright
as he walked back to his wife. Cordelia watched him with tears in her
eyes, reaching out unconsciously for Xander's hand. Lacing her fingers
through his she turned to him, seeing the same relief she felt in his
eyes. Smiling tentatively she turned her attention back to the trial.

The defense called Doug to the stand next, gently questioning him about
his drinking and affairs. Doug confessed to them all tearfully, his
voice regretful as he told of the mistakes he had made in his marriage.
The defense then led him through his recollection of the night he was
arrested.

"I came to Sunnydale to try and reconcile with my wife. It had been over
a year since she left me and I had spent that time straightening out my
life. I was no longer drinking or out all the time. I knew from her
parents that she was working on a charity auction so I went there,
thinking that a public venue was a good place to see her for the first
time. She was so cold to me, throwing her love for Alex Harris in my
face, telling me that she had never loved me and that she would never
come back to me. Then she told me she was pregnant.  I am ashamed to
admit that I begged for her forgiveness, pleaded with her to give me
another chance, I even offered to raise the child as mine, but she just
laughed at me. I finally gave up, turning to go when all of a sudden she
pulled me to her, screaming for help. Mr. Harris ran in and attacked me.
Then Miss Summers watched over me until the police arrived."

"Did you at any time hit Ms. Chase?"

"No." Doug replied tearfully. "I still love her. I don't understand why
she's saying all of this."

The defense sat down then, and the prosecutor stood, his face cold as he
walked towards Doug. "Mr. Foster, you have admitted that you were
unfaithful to Ms. Chase on numerous occasions. And also that you
overindulged in alcohol. Why did you think that she would be willing to
take you back?"

"Because I love her." Doug answered, smiling self-consciously.

"I see. And do you still love her?" The prosecutor was friendly as he
spoke.

"Yes."

"That must be hard." The prosecutor commiserated with him. "To love a
woman who loves another man, who has always loved another man." Moving
closer to Doug, he continued speaking. "Having their wife love another
man would enrage some people, cause them to act in ways they wouldn't
naturally. Are you sure this isn't what happened?"

"No." Doug replied, leaning forward in his chair, his self-conscious
smile disappearing as his eyes flashed with anger.

The prosecutor nodded, shrugging his shoulders as he continued. "You've
always lived in luxury haven't you?"

"Yes. I was very fortunate." Doug smiled, the genial personality back.

"And yet you've never worked. How is that?" The prosecutor prodded
gently.

"My Father has set up a very generous trust fund."

"And if not for that trust fund, you would be penniless?"

"Yes."

"So, if your Father had threatened to cut you off, you would have been
very desperate to stop him?"

"He didn't." Doug replied, a thin line of sweat breaking out on his
upper lip.

"I said 'if' he threatened. Hypothetically, if your Father had told you
to remain married to Ms. Chase in order to keep your trust fund, you
would have done anything to get her back. Is that not true?"

"Yes. If he had, but he didn't." Doug spoke rapidly, his face white.

"Thank you Mr. Foster." The prosecutor dismissed him, walking back to
the table smiling confidently at Cordelia. The defense stood and asked a
few more questions, before resting. The judge called a short recess
before final arguments.  Cordelia didn't move from her seat, her fingers
gripping Xander's tightly as she waited.

She felt the movement before she saw her Father, his large frame looming
over her. "I would like to speak to you."

Cordelia nodded, slipping her hand from Xander and following her Father
into the hallway. Clearing his throat her Father began speaking. "I
thought I was doing what was best for you." Cordelia remained silent,
waiting for him to continue. "I will admit that I may have made a
mistake. Maybe Doug did hit you, but Cordelia you have to understand
that he was upset about the divorce. He wasn't thinking straight."

A bitter laugh escaped from her lips as she considered her father.
"Upset? That's reason enough for you?"

"Cordelia." Her Father warned, his expression hardening. "I'm trying to
figure out a solution that will satisfy everyone."

"Doug in jail for a long time is good for me." She shot back, her face
angry.

"You were as responsible for this as Doug was." Her Father replied.

Cordelia stared in shock at her Father, the rage she felt surprising
her. Clenching her fists to her sides she took a deep breath before
speaking. "I will not do this with you. Doug married me for money and he
wanted me back for money and when I refused he killed my child and tried
to kill me."

"Alex Harris's child." Her Father accused her, his expression full of
distaste.

"Yes, Xander's child." Cordelia spat at him, her rage growing. "And my
child. A child I loved and wanted." Her rage lessened as she stared
beseechingly at her Father. "Your grandchild Daddy."

"He's not the right man for you." Her Father answered, his expression
softening slightly.

"And the man who hit me was?"

"Cordelia..." Her Father warned.

"No Dad. That's all I'm going to say." Cordelia spun around and walked
away, not looking where she was going. She ran into a man, and murmuring
an apology tried to move past him. The man blocked her easily and she
looked up to see her ex-husband blocking her path.

"We meet again." Doug said, his smile bright while his eyes shone with
hate. "You've really made a mess of things."

Cordelia continued staring at him in stunned silence, unable to speak or
to move. She had waited for this moment since she knew she was losing
the baby, had spent hours planning what she would say and how she would
destroy him, and know that it was here she felt nothing but fear. Taking
a half-step backward she opened her mouth to try and force something out
when Xander appeared at her side.

"Walk away." Xander spoke quietly to Doug, but the look on his face was
fierce.

"She married me." Doug spat at him, his face losing its mask of
kindness.

"But I loved him." Cordelia answered, finding her voice.

Doug's face hardened, the rage she had seen on the night he attacked her
flowing across his face. "You bitch!"

"Name-calling?" Cordelia smiled sweetly. "What's next? Telling your
Daddy?"

Doug moved then, coming forward towards her, but Xander stopped him
easily, pushing him back until he was backed against the wall. Cordelia
watched them, feeling like she was rooted to the spot. Xander moved back
towards her, his face calm. "Don't do this Cordy. He'll pay for what he
did, it's not up to us to do it."

She crumpled then, letting him support her as they walked back into the
courtroom.  She managed to hold her tears back until she sat down again.
She reached out to grab Xander's hand, not caring about the distance
that was still between them. He held on tightly, pulling her close to
him and letting her cry on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, that was stupid. I
was just so afraid and so angry. I wanted to rip him apart with my bare
hands."

"I know." Xander said soothingly. "So did I. And if he's not found
guilty..." His voice trailed off as he smoothed her hair and let her
cry.

She was just composing herself when the judge began the proceedings
again. The prosecutor standing first to give his closing statement. He
was eloquent as he spoke of the desperation Doug had felt at the thought
of losing his trust fund. He spoke of the empty marriage that Cordelia
had left behind, and the lack of respect Doug had given her. He finished
by speaking of the pain Cordelia had suffered due to the loss of her
child.

The defense lawyer stood then, walking around the room as he painted a
picture of a spoiled rich girl who had married a man to spite her
ex-boyfriend and then had tormented him with the knowledge that she
still loved the other man. He told of a woman who looked beautiful and
poised, but inside was delusion, living in a fantasy world she created.
He pointed to both Xander and Doug, speaking sadly of the two men she
had driven to drink by her actions. Then he had bowed his head, and
spoken in soft terms of a woman unable to deal with the loss of her
baby, be it by her own actions or natural causes, a woman who was
desperate to have someone to blame. He looked at Cordelia as he
finished, saying sadly that she should be pitied for her actions, and an
innocent man set free.

Cordelia sat back as the jury exited the room, her face blank as she
tried to figure out what to do next. Xander leaned in close, whispering
in her ear. "Are you okay?"

Cordelia looked blankly at him for a minute before speaking. "Well, not
according to that guy."

Buffy laughed softly, her arm swinging over Cordelia's shoulder. "As
long as you can make fun of things..."

Cordelia smiled back, feeling strangely calm, as if this was all
happening to someone else. "It's almost over. That's all I care about,
that it's over. Then we can get on with our lives." She felt Xander's
fingers tightening on hers as she spoke. Squeezing back, she tried to
reassure him that she wasn't going anywhere, not for today at least.

They changed the subject then, trying to talk of happier things, like
Buffy's new apartment and the clothes Cordelia had designed for her. The
next few hours passed in a blur, Cordelia refusing to leave the
courtroom in case of a verdict.

It took the jury only a little over three hours to come back. The
courtroom filled quickly as the judge and jury reentered the room, the
judge taking the verdict from the jury and reading it. He passed it back
to the jury with a nod as Doug stood beside his lawyer and the foreman
began to read the verdict.

"Count one: Attempted murder. How do you find?"

"Not guilty."

Cordelia let out a small gasp, her fingers holding onto Xander's hand
tighter.

"Count two: Aggravated assault. How do you find?"

"Guilty."

Cordelia leaned onto Xander's shoulder as a smile crossed her face even
as the tears fell from her eyes. She hadn't failed her child this time,
Doug was going to pay for what he had done. Her smile didn't falter as
the judge passed sentence, giving Doug ten months in jail, to be served
at a minimum security prison. Ten months isn't long enough, she thought
vaguely before being swept into the joyous arms of her friends. Letting
herself be caught up in their celebration she was caught off guard when
her parents appeared in front of her.

"Cordelia Chase, you will come with us." Her Father ordered, not even
glancing at Xander.

"No." Cordelia whispered, her hand unconsciously reaching out for
Xander. He took her hand in his, squeezing gently. She straightened her
shoulders, her tears drying as she took strength from his touch.

"Cordelia." Her Mother pleaded, her eyes teary. "Your Father did what he
thought was best."

"My Father defended the man who hit me." Cordelia spoke without emotion,
her fingers laced tightly with Xander's. "Because they offered him
enough money to betray his daughter."

"I'd hoped you would come to your senses." Her Father said
condescendingly.  His glare spread to encompass Xander. "But I see now
that you haven't."

Cordelia stared down at her hand entwined in Xander's then looked up
into his eyes. She was silent for a minute, all the love he felt for her
shining in his eyes. She smiled as she turned back to her father,
feeling her heart lighten. "Actually, I think I have."

Her father spluttered something, but Cordelia wasn't listening to him.
She was too busy staring at Xander, feeling all the love she had for him
flow through her. Her parents gave up finally, walking away with a final
warning that she was ruining her life. Once they were out of earshot she
spoke again. "So, you mentioned something about wanting another chance.
Still want it?"

"Yes." Xander replied quickly, a smile spreading across his face.

"We have a lot to work through." Cordelia warned, trying to keep her
face blank.

"I know." Xander nodded, his smile fading slightly. "We can do it."

Cordelia smiled then, letting everything that happened in the past fade
away as she stepped closer to him, her arms wrapping around his
shoulders. He grabbed her, holding on tightly as she lifted her face to
his. Their lips met slowly, the kiss gentle, holding more promise than
passion. She broke away from him, her face glowing as the rest of the
gang swirled around them, their faces happy.

"Finally." Buffy smiled as she looked at the two of them. "It's about
time."

Cordelia grinned at her, leaning her head on Xander's shoulder as they
walked out of the courtroom. She paused on the steps of the courthouse,
her smile bright as she looked at the people surrounding her and the man
at her side, knowing that she was finally home.
******

Just the epilogue left. :)

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-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: "Andrea Newbery" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Best Intentions, Epilogue
Date: 22 Jan 1999 17:27:25 PST

Title: Best Intentions
Author: Andrea
e-mail: [e-mail]
disclaimer: These characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant
Enemy, the WB, etc. They are not mine.
spoilers: Everything up to the end of season two.
distribution: Sure, just let me know.
summary: Xander/Cordelia. This fic is set in the same timeline as
Christine's amazing story, 'The Wildest Times in the World' although
technically this story takes place before that one. If you haven't read
it, e-mail me and I'll send it to you.
Feedback: Please. Good, bad, anything.
Thanks to Christine, for writing the story that started this, and for
helping me when I got stuck and for thinking up the title. And there's
still more I could thank you for. :)
Special thanks to Wirchler, for all the helpful comments.

Cordelia and Xander's house
May 21, 2012

Cordelia sat wearily down in her chair, knowing she would be on her feet
again in minutes. Her eyes wandered impatiently around the room, wishing
that Xander would hurry up and get home. Catching a glimpse of her
favorite wedding phote she smiled, leaning back against the chair as she
picked it up.

Everyone looked so happy in the photo, Willow and Oz joined at the hip
as they always were when they could be together, Sonja staring dreamily
at Xander, Buffy standing between Giles and Joyce, their arms wrapped
around each other and Xander and her in the middle, their faces wreathed
in smiles. Sighing, she traced her fingers fondly over the images
captured there. It was hard to believe that two of the people in the
picture were no longer with them. Sonja had fallen to vampires only a
few months ago. It had been hard on all of them, but especially Willow,
the redhead was still struggling to deal with the loss. She was spending
the summer touring with Oz, letting him help her to heal.

Her fingers lingered on the faces of Giles, Joyce and Buffy, looking for
all intents and purposes like the family they were. Giles and Joyce had
been the parent figures to the whole gang for so long, it had been
unimaginable that something would happen to one of them, but it had.
Something that none of them had expected, a car driving much to fast and
a woman in the wrong place at the wrong time. Losing Joyce had devasted
the entire group, but Buffy and Giles had barely made it through. Buffy
had risked her life fighting vampires again, unable to accept losing
both her parents so early in their life. It had been Giles who finally
got through to her, helping her to accept the loss. She had moved from
Sunnydale a few months ago, needing to escape the town that held so many
memories for her. Giles left soon after her, escaping with his grief to
England taking a job in the Watcher Archives, preferring to spend his
time with his books.

Cordelia sighed, wiping the few stray tears that had fallen from her
cheeks. Checking her watch she struggled to her feet again, wandering
around her living room. A half-smile crossed her face as she thought of
her home, Buffy's home, that the blonde had sold to her and Xander soon
after her Mother's death. Cordelia had worried at first that Buffy would
feel uncomfortable having people she knew living in her house, but the
retired Slayer had reassured her, saying that she preferred to have them
in her house, that way she could come back anytime she wanted, and that
the house was for families, not for just one person.

She smiled, rubbing her stomach softly, it wouldn't be long until their
family had three members. Walking over to the couch she lowered herself
carefully, hearing the front door open as she did.

"Xander, I'm in here." Cordelia shouted, flopping her head against the
back of the couch.

"Look who I found." Xander said, coming into the room and planting a
kiss on his wife's forehead.

"Buffy!" Cordelia smiled, letting Xander help her into a sitting
position. "I didn't think you were coming until Friday."

"I wanted to surprise you." Buffy replied, walking over to sit beside
Cordelia. Placing her hand on Cordelia's stomach she grinned. "You're
huge."

 "I know." Cordelia grimaced. "Don't remind me, I'm repressing."

"When is everyone else getting here?" Buffy asked.

"Willow and Oz should be here soon, and Giles plane arrives tomorrow
afternoon." Xander answered, hovering anxiously around his wife. "Do you
feel okay?"

"Other than my back, I'm fine." Cordelia answered, shaking her head at
Xander's mother hen routine. He had been wonderful throughout her
pregnancy, but the memory of the baby they had lost had haunted him. She
set her hand lightly on her stomach, rubbing the taunt roundness with a
sad smile, the baby they had lost would never be replaced, but this
child growing in her stomach was wanted very much.

The three of them spent a happy evening catching up, Buffy filling them
in on her new job and new life. Cordelia almost forgot about the pain in
her back as they reminisced, the past a much less painful topic for them
now. Buffy complimented them on the changes they had made to the house,
teasing Cordelia about cutting down the tree before their child was old
enough to walk.

Cordelia went to bed long before Buffy and Xander, the pain in her back
forcing her to lie down. She woke in the middle of the night, unsure of
what had woken her until the pain hit again. Gasping softly she reached
out for Xander, shaking him awake.

"Xan? Are you up?"

"Huh? What?" Xander said, sitting up slowly and rubbing his eyes. He
turned to her then, his face panicked. "Is it time? Now?" Bounding from
the bed he pulled his pants on, throwing a shirt over his head as he
asked her if she was okay.

"Calm down." Cordelia ordered, climbing slowly from the warm bed. "We've
got loads of time."

"I'll get Buffy." Xander answered, running from the room and down the
hall, yelling for Buffy as he went.

Shaking her head, Cordelia dressed carefully, and walked down the hall
towards the nursery. She stepped into the room, leaning against the
doorway and imagining her baby in the room. Buffy stepped up behind her,
rubbing Cordelia's back lightly as she looked at the room.

"Its nice." Buffy murmered, smiling at the transformation of her old
room. "I'm glad the baby will sleep in here."

Cordelia nodded, grimacing as another wave of pain washed over her. "I
think I'm going to want a lot of drugs."  Buffy grinned as she wrapped
her arm around Cordelia as Xander ran down the hallway with the
suitcase. Turning to Buffy she smiled ruefully. "Think he'd listen if I
told him we didn't need to go yet?"

"Not a chance." Buffy answered, laughing as Xander flew down the stairs
and out the door. He was back inside in moments, bounding up the stairs
to stand beside his wife.

"Come on. Do you want me to carry you?" Xander blurted, rubbing his
wife's stomach gently.

"We're not going now. It's going to be hours before we need to go. Now
we can go downstairs and have some tea, or maybe we should try and get a
little sleep." Cordelia spoke calmly to her husband.

"I'll put the kettle on." Buffy offered, heading towards the stairs.
"And I'll call Willow and Giles and see if they can get here any
earlier."

Cordelia watched her go, her hand resting on Xander's arm. She looked up
into the panicked face of her husband, reaching up to kiss him quickly.
"Can you believe it's here?"

"No." Xander replied, wrapping his arms around his wife and pulling her
as close as her stomach would allow. "But I can't wait until our
daughter is here."

"You don't know it's a girl." Cordelia whispered, pulling back to look
at him. "It could be a boy."

"It's a girl." Xander replied with certainty, supporting his wife as
they walked down the stairs.

They walked into the kitchen as Buffy was getting off the phone. She
turned with a smile. "Willow and Oz are in town. They got in a few hours
ago. They'll be here soon."

"They don't have to come right away." Cordelia said laughingly. "They'll
just be bored waiting."

"It's our first baby." Buffy said happily. "We all want to be here for
it."

"Giles?" Cordelia questioned softly, hoping that he would get there in
time for the birth. He was the Granddad, he needed to be there.

"I couldn't get him." Buffy said sadly. "But he'll be here by this
afternoon, hopefully the baby won't be born before then."

"This afternoon?" Cordelia said weakly as another pain hit. "How many
hours is that?"

Willow and Oz arrived in record time, everyone talking in excited tones
about the baby. They left for the hospital as the sun began to rise,
everyone scrambling into one car. Buffy sent Xander to the back seat,
deciding that he was in no condition to drive. The nurses had been taken
aback when the group of them entered the hospital, ushering Cordelia
quickly into a private room and shyly asking Oz for his autograph.

"Drugs." Cordelia panted, holding Xander's hand tightly. "Where are my
drugs?"

"They'll be here." Xander soothed, wiping her forehead with a cool
washcloth. The doctor came in soon after, kicking everyone but Xander
out of the room.

After examining Cordelia the doctor looked up with a smile. "Well, it
looks like it's time."

"Time?" Cordelia echoed him weakly, moaning as another contraction hit.
"But...drugs?"

The doctor smiled as he watched the couple before him.  He'd heard it
many times before.  "It's a little late for that Mrs. Harris.  Just a
few more minutes and you'll be holding your baby."

"Is Giles here yet?" Cordelia panted, her fingernails digging into
Xander's hand.

"I don't know Cordy. He'll be here soon." Xander whispered, moving
behind her to support her shoulders. "Now lets have our baby."

"Easy for you to say," Cordelia panted.  "You're not the one on the
table."

Xander wiped his wife's face with a cool rag.  "Concentrate Cor. It's
almost over now. Everyone is waiting outside, probably pacing holes into
the floor."

"The hell with the floor!  I'm dying here!  Oh God, here comes another
one."

"Okay sweetie, breath.  You're doing fine."

"I can see the head.  One more push.  Wow, what a head of hair.  Mr.
Harris, why don't you come down here so you can cut the cord."

Giving his panting wife a quick kiss, Xander went to stand next to the
doctor.

"Here she comes!"

"She?  It's a girl?" Cordelia asked. "You were right."

The doctor smiled as he lay the baby on Cordelia's stomach.  "You have a
beautiful baby girl with all her fingers and toes.  Now Dad, would you
like to do the honors?"

Smiling, Xander took the scissors and cut the cord.  Returning to his
wife's side he beamed down at her sweaty, glowing face.  "You're
wonderful.  You look wonderful."

Cordelia pushed a stringy hunk of hair out of her face.  "Right."
Staring down at her daughter she smiled happily. "She's perfect."

"Well with such a handsome Dad..." Xander laughed, leaning over his
wife's shoulder to touch the baby's cheek.

"You should go get everyone. I want her to meet her family." Cordelia
whispered softly, not looking up from the dark-haired baby on her
stomach.

"I'll go out in one second.  After I do this."  Xander leaned down and
gave his wife a passionate kiss.  "I love you," he whispered.

"You too." She replied, smiling up at him. "Go."

"Gone." Xander said, walking rapidly from the room.

Cordelia turned back to her child, running her fingers along the soft
cheek and feeling her eyes well with tears. The door opened quietly and
her friends swept into the room, coming over to stare down at the baby
in awe.

"A girl." Buffy said wistfully, staring down at the baby. "She's
beautiful."

"Adorable." Willow echoed, crowding in to see the baby better.

The door opened again and Giles walked in, Buffy flying to hug him. He
hugged her back fiercly then walked over to Cordelia's side. "I see the
little one has already made an entrance."

"It's a girl." Xander proclaimed proudly.

"Does she have a name?" Oz asked, wrapping his arms around Willow's
shoulders.

Cordelia looked at Xander for a moment before nodding. "She does. We
wanted to find a name to express what she meant to us." She hesitated
for a moment as her daughters hand wrapped around her finger. "And also
to convey what all of you mean to us, and will mean to her. You're her
family, her aunts and uncles and her Grandfather." Cordelia stopped
again, her voice to choked with emotion to continue. Taking a deep
breath she smiled at Giles and Buffy. "So we decided to name her Joy."

"Oh." Buffy breathed while Giles fiddled with his glasses, his eyes
suspiciously bright. The room was silent for a while as everyone was
reminded of the people they had loved and lost. Buffy broke the silence
first, leaning in close to the baby to whisper. "Welcome Joy."

Cordelia leaned back against Xander, her eyes teary as she smiled down
at her daughter, feeling the truth in Buffy's words flooding her body.
Welcome joy.

~fin

Thanks to everyone who has written such great fic in the time I've been
on this list. It's been great.



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