ftp.xmission.com/2014.06.ftp.xmission.com.tar/ftp.xmission.com/pub/lists/buffyfic/archive/buffyfic.9710

Internet Message Format | 1997-10-28 | 411KB

From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: i need games 2
Date: 01 Oct 1997 01:24:37 -0400 (EDT)

hi i have games 1/1 by samantha  and  i was mailed parts 3/4 and  4/4  i was
wondering what happened to games 2/4 i looked on the list serve sight and on
some other sights but cant seem to find it i would greatly apreciate either
you sending 2/4 or perhaps explaining why it doesnt exist if thats the case



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

From: Anya <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Deep Thoughts 1/1
Date: 03 Oct 1997 18:20:13 -0400

Deep Thoughts
by Anya
Edited by: Rob "Peter" Ullhorn

*SPOILERS: Set immediately after "When She Was Bad"

He sat hunchbacked, alone on the steps outside school, staring up at
the setting sun.  Confusion ran rampant through his mind.  The longer
he put off trying to sort through it, the louder and louder it got.
His world, his entire universe had just gone topsy-turvy, and he
didn't have a clue of what to do.  Or even where to begin dealing with
it.

Xander sighed heavily, replaying scene after scene in his minds eye.
The first week of school had been an ....experience.  In those few
short days, he'd done more emotional maturing than he had in the last
four years.  It was so weird.  Feeling so many emotions, in such a
short time, only to discover that everything he'd thought, everything
he'd felt was all just an illusion.

It all began the night before school started, before Buffy had
returned.  Those silly games as they walked.... the ice cream... and
then...  God, he had never wanted to kiss anyone as much as he had
Willow.  It was such a strange yet incredible sensation; the tension,
the growing breathless anticipation, the growling of the vampire.

The vampire that had interrupted that moment was a real piss-off.
For the first time in his life, he had found himself in a "moment"
that felt so unbelievably right..and it had slipped completely away
with that vampire showing up.

"At least he's dust now," he thought.  The vengeful smile forming
across his face, taking solace in that brief moment of revenge.  The
thoughts entering his conscious mind however quickly replaced that
smile with a frown.

Willow was probably grateful to that vampire.  After all, hadn't she
turned him down over the Spring Fling?  "I was a jerk.  Asking her
out after Buffy did the "just friends" routine."  He muttered to
himself, absently rubbing his hand across the back of his aching
neck.  "What was I thinking?  I should have never put her in that
position.  She had every right to tell me to go shove for being so
cruel."

Then later, at the Bronze.  Buffy slinking in seductively, asking him
to dance.  His every wish, his fondest dreams finally being fulfilled.
Her body, sexily grinding against his.  Yet despite all that, he felt
...nothing.  No spark, no interest.  Yes there was lust, yes there was
a perverse sense of pleasure at what she was doing, but nothing
substantial, no connection.

No, seeing Buffy like that, at her bitchiest, awoke a part of himself
that he had never known before.  Had he ALWAYS felt this way?
Was it always this strong?  What took him so long to realize?

And more importantly, was it real?

A dejected sigh ripped from his throat.  Standing, he kicked absently
at a small pebble on the step, watching it spin and fall.  Allowing
his feet to follow that stone, he aimlessly wandered down the stairs,
and blindly across the courtyard towards the fountain.  Since school
was out, the campus was virtually deserted.  Buffy was in the library,
as was Willow.  It was supposed to be a quick drop in and leave visit,
but he knew better.  Xander had elected to take the few minutes to try
and get his thoughts in some sort of order.

Bending down, he scooped up a small handful of little stones, and
began trying to make them skip in the pools of rapidly moving water.
As they darted across the surface, his mind replayed the vampire's
trap in the library.  Just like the jumping pebbles, things had moved
quickly.  One moment, the threesome had been holding their own, the
next thing they knew....

He had heard Willow's scream, and turned to help her just as a
vampire grabbed him and threw him into the railing.  The last thing
he saw was Willow being dragged away, kicking and screaming.
When he came to, Willow and Giles were gone, and Buffy was
walking in.

In retrospect the fury, the rage, and the undeniable near hate he'd
felt toward the Slayer shamed him.  Yet he had been so afraid for
Willow, so afraid she would be hurt or destroyed like Jesse was, so
terrified that he would never see her smile again...he lashed out at
Buffy.   "If they hurt Willow, I'll kill you."

Looking back however, he realized how ridiculous it was to even
think he could kill the Slayer.  It was a pure stroke of luck she
hadn't
pounded him into the ground for saying that.  That, or she was
probably too busy trying to keep herself from laughing at his
temerity.  And yet, he'd meant every word.

It unnerved him even more to realize, that if he didn't kill her, he
would cheerfully let Buffy kill him.   Did his feelings for Willow
really run THAT deep?  "I thought that was soap-opera melodrama...
nobody feels like that, do they?"  He muttered, staring down at his
wavering reflection.

And seeing Willow hanging upside down above the Master's skeletal
remains; Xander felt his stomach lurch once more.  She was so close
to that vampire with the knife.  Xander had no doubt that if Angel,
Buffy and himself hadn't arrived when they did, Willow would have
been the first sacrifice.

She was such a tiny person, that the beating she had taken at the
library kept her unconscious far longer than the others.  While Buffy
was doing her little "ridding the world of a few more vampires"
routine, he had cradled his friend in his arms, taking comfort in
the sight of her steady breathing.

When did he fall in love with her?  The strength of these feelings
weren't new, only his awareness of them were.  He could remember
the zookeeper, about to kill Willow, and felt the panic again.  His
Willow.  Nobody hurt HIS Willow.

But...she didn't want to be his.  No, there was some other guy in
school that she pined for.  She had understood his crush on Buffy so
well, empathized so perfectly...there had to be some guy out there
that she was so hung up on.

And Xander was jealous of him.  The only thing he could do is wait,
and hope.  Maybe one day, Willow would notice her best friend as
more than her best friend.

He just had to wait.

--The End

Comments, and criticisms always welcomed!
[e-mail]



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

From: Elizabeth Ann Lewis <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Bad Feelings and Love Handles (1/1)
Date: 04 Oct 1997 09:59:06 -0700

Posting alert!  Posting alert!

I did not write this.  (I'll be posting my own, much twistier story this
weekend...)  If you liked this story, write to the address below the
author's name.  And, for the record, it was written before WSWB... <g>
~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~
Bad Feelings and Love Handles
by Sheila Marie Lane
[e-mail]

Dedicated, with aggravation, to Chris, Judy, and Beth. And Lizbet: he is
definitely "really much a lot better" in person.

Standard disclaimers apply.


"Owww!"

"Sorry," Willow said for the hundredth time as she helped Buffy into a
chair in the library.

Giles came out of the stacks, took one look, and came running. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Buffy said with disgust. "Nothing at all. Xander, quit hovering."

Xander gave her an extremely offended look and plopped into the chair next
to her. "Willow's hovering. I'm just being concerned."

"What happened?" Giles repeated with some force.

"Nothing, I told you. I tripped in gym class."

"Over me," Willow said miserably.

Xander patted Willow's arm. "It's not your fault. You just happened to be
there."

"And she just *happened* to take a header."

"Will! It's okay, really. I promise." But Willow was obviously not convinced.

Giles, meanwhile, was down on his knees examining Buffy's right ankle.
"Yes, I'd say you definitely sprained it."

Buffy looked pained. Willow looked guilty. Xander looked confused. "Wait a
minute. How is it that you fight all kinds of demons, monsters, and
what-have-you and barely breathe hard. But--"

"But." Buffy said with a wince as Giles probed. "But I take a header in gym
class. Gee, I'm lucky." She rolled her eyes.

"I am *so* sorry, Buffy."

Buffy reached over and tugged one of Willow's braids. "Stop it, silly. Or
I'll sprain *your* ankle."

Willow looked rather as though she'd feel better if Buffy did, but she
subsided.

"Well, stay off it," Giles said finally. "Slayers heal faster than most,
but they still need to heal. Go home and rest."

"No slaying? Way cool." Buffy grinned. "I'm gonna go home, suck down the
Motrin, and watch bad movies on cable."

"Sounds like a plan," Xander said with a grin. "Can I come?"

"Sure! How about you, Willow?"

"Uh...I don't know." Willow kept her head down and her face blank, anyway.
"I'll get back to you. Bye.  Sorry."

As she disappeared out the door, Buffy turned to Xander with a frown. "For
no apparent reason, I have a bad feeling."

He looked down at her bag. "You might be wrong."

"About the bad feeling?"

"No, the non-apparent reason. Don't you usually carry a stake in here?"

She twisted to look. "Yeah--it's gone! Willow!" She jumped to her feet,
then sank back down with a moan.

Xander sighed. Visions of semi-dates with Buffy floated above his head,
then disappeared. "No. I'll go."

Giles watched him hurry out the door, then turned to Buffy.

"Now I *really* have a bad feeling," she said darkly.

*****

Xander found Willow, as he had expected to, curled next to a tombstone in
the graveyard looking incredibly scared.

"Willow, what the heck do you think you're doing?" He crouched down beside
her. "It's not even dark yet, for cripe's sake."

"I know. But I didn't want to come in when it was dark."

"Uh-huh. So you decided to come in..." He checked his watch. "At two-thirty?"

She shrugged. "I didn't have anything better to do."

He scooted closer to her. "I know you better than that, Willow. You're
embarrassed, and you're guilty, and you're afraid Buffy's mad at you and
hiding it. So you came out here to brood."

She looked over at him in astonishment. "Where did all that come from?"

He shrugged. "We've been buds since preschool, Willow. I was bound to get a
handle on you at some point."

She snickered.

"What?"

"A handle on me?"

"Well..."

She snickered again.

"Stop that!"

"I'm sorry. It's just...the mental picture..." She trailed off into laughter.

He glared at her for a moment, then a really evil light flashed into his
eyes. "Oh, really." And before she could react, he had her down on the
ground as his fingers poked her sides.

"Aaah!"

"No handles here..."

"Xander, stop that!"

"And none here. Hm, wonder if..."

"Eeeee!"

"Okay, there's a possibility. Hey!" And Xander collapsed on the ground as
Willow found the particularly ticklish spot at the base of his ribs.

*****

Fifteen minutes later, they were both covered in grass and completely
exhausted. Willow panted several times before finding the breath to say,
"Get off me, you oaf."

"Who you callin' an oaf?" Xander tried to summon the strength for revenge
and failed. He propped most of his weight on his arms and looked down at
Willow. He looked down at her for a long, time, in fact, until she shifted
under him.

"What?"

"I don't know." He kept looking. "You're a pretty girl, Willow Ann."

She caught her breath and tried to smile normally. "You haven't said that
to me in a long time. Years."

"It's still true."

They stared at each other for a moment more, then Xander looked away and
rolled off her. "Come on.  You can't protect the world until after dark
anyway, and you've already missed most of last period. Let's go get a Coke."

"Okay." Willow let Xander pull her to her feet. They brushed each other
off, trying to laugh and not quite making it. Xander grabbed her hand and
started off.

Willow hung back. "Xander?"

"Yeah?"

She waited until he turned back. Then she went up on tiptoe and kissed him.

He looked at her for a moment. "Oh."

"Oh?" She swallowed hard. "That's all you have to say? Oh?"

"Yeah." He smiled, slowly, then took her hand again, linking their fingers
together.

Willow looked up at him. She knew she was blushing. "Oh."

"Come on."

Celli       Sheila Marie Lane     willow    [e-mail]
-----       --------------------------------------------------
"He looks really much a lot better in person." --Lizbet
=====       ====HeLLLion====SunS====Prophile/BL====RFW/MFW====
            http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/4928
"See? Whenever we fight, you always bring up the vampire thing."





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

From: Elizabeth Ann Lewis <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Mourning Light (1/1)
Date: 04 Oct 1997 10:02:57 -0700

Nope, this one's not mine either.  You know the drill...
~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~-*-~
Mourning Light
by Sheila Marie Lane
[e-mail]

Dedicated to Leslie--I *will* return the favor someday--and David. *sigh*
Standard disclaimers apply.



Angel sighed and turned over. The morning light was bothering him--wait a
minute, the morning light wasn't supposed to be there. He yawned and tried
to forget it, but it was *really* annoying him. Besides, someone was
knocking on his door.

"Angel! Angel! Wake up!"

He ignored the rattling of the door handle as long as possible--until the
very real worry that Buffy might try to kick the door in occurred to him.
"O-kay! Hold on."

Jeans...where were his jeans? He finally dug them out from under his bed.
He debated looking for his shirt, too, but there were some ominous sounds
coming from the door...

It was fairly amusing to see Buffy gape at him when he opened the door. He
must remember to strip more often. "What *is* it?" he asked, trying to hold
on to his annoyance.

"What is *is,*" she mocked, "is a glorious day. And you promised to go to
the movies with me this afternoon."

"Oh, jeez, is it afternoon already?" He looked over at the window and
blinked. No wonder the light hadn't seemed right. It was afternoon light.
Wasn't it? He stood there, confused, for a moment, but Buffy was shaking
his arm.

"Yo! Angel! Snap out of it. Night owl," she said with a laugh. "Come on,
drag a shirt over those glorious pecs and let's *go*!"

The darkness of the movie theater was blessed relief to Angel. "I think I
have a sunburn already," he groused.

"Shhhhh!" Buffy stopped watching "George of the Jungle" long enough to poke
him in the side.

He sneered one more time, considered going back to sleep, then finally
snuck Buffy's hand into his--and some of her popcorn into his mouth, while
he was at it--and started trying to follow the plot.

Weird tasting popcorn. Of course, what did he know? He hadn't had popcorn
in--never mind. The movie was actually amusing. So was picking Buffy up off
the floor when one particular scene involving a coffee commercial had her
in hysterics.

"Okay, I admit it," Angel finally said. "It was fun. Not really my style,
but fun."

Buffy looked smug.

"Stop that."

"What?"

"That see-all, know-all look."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "There, is that better?"

The sun was getting way, way too hot. Angel knew he'd have to head home
soon, or he was going to be duller than ashes. Er, duller than dirt. Er--

He grabbed Buffy and kissed her. She made a startled "eek," then hung on
for dear life. He bent her back over his arm, started kissing his way down
her neck--

And woke abruptly when the pillow he was clutching broke. "Damn," he said,
looking down at the feathers all over the bed. "Not another one." And he
wasn't talking about the pillow.

At dusk, Angel stood at the window, watching the shade over it glow with
the light outside. It dimmed and dimmed, until finally he could lift it up
and stare at the stars above. Tucked tightly into his hand was a single
feather.

the end

Celli       Sheila Marie Lane     willow    [e-mail]
-----       --------------------------------------------------
"He looks really much a lot better in person." --Lizbet
=====       ====HeLLLion====SunS====Prophile/BL====RFW/MFW====
            http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/4928
"See? Whenever we fight, you always bring up the vampire thing."





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

From: Lisa Rose <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Lady Came from Sunnydale
Date: 04 Oct 1997 12:15:46 -0700

The Lady Came from Sunnydale

(To the tune of "The Lady Came from Baltimore")

The lady came from Sunnydale
She owned a gallery place
She joked with me that I was pale
I wore my human face

Chorus:  I was sent to kill her daughter
         Drain her blood and run
         But I fell in love with Ms. Summers
         Came away with none

Though lady Joyce was always sweet
Her daughter killed my kind
Joyce didn't know what I must eat
It never crossed her mind

Chorus

She locked her house's doors each night
To keep the dark things out
She never stopped to see it right
That's what I'm about

Chorus

Her daughter said I was a fiend
Who fed on people's blood
To Joyce I was a human being
I married her for love

Chorus

(Lyrics copyright 1997 by Lisa Rose)



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

From: Elizabeth Ann Lewis <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Three of Spades (1/1)
Date: 04 Oct 1997 21:14:30 -0700

The characters and concepts of Buffy the Vampire Slayer are not mine.  Joss
Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Fox, Sandollar, etc, etc, have all legal and monetary
rights.  I just get them waking me up at all hours of the morning demanding
that I tell their stories, that's all...

As always, for the Sunnydale Slayers.  This time they shuddered instead of
cooing.

Praise, flames, chocolate and tall, dark, undead angsty guys to
[e-mail]
*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*
Three of Spades
by Elizabeth Ann Lewis
England, 1818
Old Nick's Tavern, on the road from London to Dover

    Billy cursed under his breath at the last of the travelers who
stumbled up the stairs, to bed and wives and sleep.  They left him the
dregs of their bottles, and not enough time to clear their purses of gold.
Not nearly enough time.  The rich, the idle, the careless poured forth from
London, dreaming of the continent, barred to them for so long by a
generation of unrelenting war.  Their minds were fixed on Greek statues and
French women, not on whether the friendly chap they met in a tavern was
dealing from the top or the bottom of the deck.  Billy made a tidy sum that
way, hazing their minds with wine and stealing their gold with cards.  It
had occurred to him -- often -- that it might have been easier to simply
steal their purses outright.  Before he had left London -- before he had
fled the Town to save his own sorry skin -- he hadn't flinched from doing
what needed to be done, whether it was cutting a purse or cutting a throat.
    But it was more of a challenge, this way.  And he hungered for a
challenge.
    Tonight, however, all he hungered for was more.  More play, more
gold, more wine, more blackness spreading out and out, blanketing him,
blanking him.  Oblivion was what he sought, wanted until he began to wonder
if the opium addict's pipe was truly as disgusting as it looked.  All he
had were the cards that he restlessly shuffled and reshuffled, their sound
a purr in the still night.
    Out here, on the road, in this filthy tavern, he couldn't make half
the money that he had in London.  In London they had feared him where he
walked the nighttime streets.  Here he was affable Billy, charming bloke,
always willing for a round of ale and a round of whist.  And the charm
sickened him until it was a poison eating out his mind.
    The innkeeper paused his considerable bulk by the cracked table
Billy occupied.  "Time's up," he said, not unkindly.  Everyone thereabouts
liked Billy.  "Seek your own bed, boy.  Get you gone."
    Billy's hand closed convulsively on the knife he wore beneath his
coat.  ~One moment.  Just one.  That's all it'd take.  Then his gut would
lie open like a fish's and his mouth would gape like one.  Just one.  Just
one...~
    The bloodlust didn't haze Billy's mind, but sharpened it.  Enough
that it wasn't a footstep or a breath of sound that made him aware of the
third person in the main room of the tavern -- just feral senses honed to a
point that made him look up to meet dark eyes.  The newcomer was perfectly
positioned to see the knife gleaming, barely slipping free from its sheath,
under the table and out of sight of the rotund innkeeper who had no idea
how close silver death waited.
    Not best pleased at having his sport interrupted -- although he
knew quite well that in another moment the knife would have gone back into
its sheath and he would have gone docilely home, Billy leaned back in his
chair, his pose that of the lord of the manor, master of all he surveyed.
The night might not yet be lost.  Anyone fool enough to travel at night
when the highwaymen lurked was fool enough to fall into a game of cards
with him.  And he was a rich one, too.  His clothes were tailored close to
his body in a fit that screamed of wealth, the fabric finer than anything
Billy had touched in his wretched lifetime.  A gold watch gleamed at the
brocade waistcoat, and a silver ring winked from his hand.
    A fob, a dandy, and a fool.  Billy smiled, not even bothering to
hide the predatory intent that prompted him.  He'd be dining well tomorrow.
    The innkeeper bustled over to his new guest, full of
self-importance and fawning desire for his lordship's comfort.  Even if his
guest was not a lord, it never failed to make the gentry more generous to
be called such.  With three words and a sweet smile, the newcomer had the
innkeeper stumbling back, his florid face gone white with fury or fear --
or both?
    Swinging the cloak from his shoulders, the dark man crossed the
room to sit at the table with Billy.  Restlessly, the cards continued their
endless shuffling song, a pitch that raised and lowered, raised and lowered.
    "Care for a game?" Billy asked casually, ignoring the sting of
sweat that had broken out on his body.  Half of it was from pure
covetousness, wanting the rich fabrics, the gold, the easy life.  And half
of it was from wondering if he was really seeing what he thought he was
seeing in the stranger's eyes.  He'd seen a man go mad, once, seen it
happen right before him.  And the eyes... had gone calm, tranquil as the
man had used a broken bottle to tear a man to pieces.  Very clear, very
sure.
    "I'm always ready for a game -- if the stakes are high enough."  A
cultured voice, carefully trained to sound precisely as it was meant to
sound.  Billy's senses sharpened again.  He'd heard voices like that
before, when those who had clawed their way out of the muck had tried to
ape gentile manners.
    For hours the cards kept up their steady fall, gleaming ivory on
the dark wood.  Ladies danced and bowed to kings -- and fell, when it
suited the king's pleasure.  Billy's pleasure was of a different kind, gold
and gold and more gold piling up before his hands.  So much gold, a bright,
shiny mass... his eyes dazzled in its reflection until he could see nothing
but its glorious sunlit color.
    Blinded by light, he did not notice when the gold began to disappear.
    It wasn't until the stranger tossed a handful of coins into the pot
and called to see his cards that Billy realized that he didn't have enough
to match his opponent's bet.  With a shock that chilled him to his soul, he
realized he'd lost every ha'penny that he had won from the weak, foolish
fop, and every penny of his own besides.  Billy's breath began coming in
puffs, each exhalation a denial of reality.  "No... how did you... it
can't... I can't..."
    "Ah."  One short word sliced through Billy's burgouing hysteria.
Damn his black eyes, he hadn't even broken into a sweat.  "Well, then.
Shall I propose one final game?"
    "I told you, I haven't got any more," Billy said fiercely.  "And
why would you want it?  You don't need money."
    "Who said we would be playing for money?  Here's the rules:  we
each pull one card out of the deck.  I'll shuffle, if you don't mind.  You
pull the high card, and you can take anything of mine you wish.  I pull the
high card -- and I can take anything of yours."
    Billy's eyes narrowed as he watched his opponent across the table.
He'd seen some perversions in London -- participated in some, if the truth
be told -- and yet that wasn't what the gentleman had in mind.
    Billy didn't know what his opponent wanted from him -- or with him.
But he did know what he would take if he pulled the high card:  everything.
And he knew what he had to lose if he pulled the low:  nothing.
    Grinning, Billy handed the deck over to his dark-haired opponent.
"Whatever you want, mate."
    Long-fingered hands were surprisingly dexterous with the aging
deck, shuffling and blending the pasteboard with ease.  In a few moments, a
fan spread out on the table between himself and Billy.  "Pick a card," he
invited.
    With a hesitance he didn't quite understand, Billy slid one card
from the rest of its kind and flipped it over.  The three of spades.
Unless Billy got very, very lucky, he'd lost the bet.
    With a quick moment in the dim light, a hand flashed out and turned
over another card.  The king of hearts, with his axe held at the ready.
For a moment, in the uncertain light, Billy thought he saw the bloodred
heart bleeding across the card.  Before he could blink to clear his sight,
the card disappeared, along with the rest, along with the gold and the
table and everything on it.  The languid, indolent fop hauled him up by his
collar, and his eyes gleamed the shade of the coins fallen on the hearth.
"This is what I will take," he snarled, his face distorted into the mask of
Hell.  In a lifetime spent fighting in a world that would as easily slit
your throat as breath a word, Billy had never lost a fight.
    He lost one then.  Knives gashed into the skin of his neck, burning
with a bright agony that made the blood pouring across his flesh seem cold
in comparison.  He flailed like a rat caught in a terrier's grip,
pathetically unable to protect himself.  The weak light dimmed and faded,
flickering until Billy wondered if it was the beginning flames of perdition
he was seeing rather than the warm hearthfire.
    Cold stones, under his cheek.  He couldn't move.  He could feel his
heart beating, shallowly, rapidly, trying desperately to move blood that no
longer coursed it his body.  But his senses still focused on the stranger
than knelt beside him. "Tell me... do you want to live, or do you want to
die?"
    He couldn't move.  He couldn't breathe.  He couldn't give the
answer that his tormenter seemed to want.  Watching his struggles for a few
moments, the last, helpless flop of a fish caught on dry land, the stranger
finally laughed.  "I'll assume you want to live."
    This time, the blood that flowed across his face felt warm on his
death-chilled skin.  It trickled into his mouth, and set up a hunger, a
thirst, more powerful than any Billy had ever known.  It didn't matter that
he could barely move, that his nemesis had proven and reproven that he was
stronger.  He... needed... *more*, and would be willing to fight to the
last moment of life to get it.
    Later, he would dimly recall clamping his face against the cuts the
stranger had made on his own neck.  Then, his understanding was narrowed
down the the blood that flowed into him, more and more, rich and powerful.
And, with the blood, the sense of *other*, the demon that took residence in
the twisted place where his soul used to be.
    A century, a year, a moment later, Billy stirred, blinked like a
child waking from a nap.  The stranger's clothes were stained with blood
but otherwise barely disordered, and the amused, arrogant light still lit
his dark eyes.  "What's your name?" he asked, his voice no more than
casually curious.
    "B--"  Billy checked himself.  "William the Bloody," he said
instead, pride ringing.
    "William the Bloody, hmm?"  Leaning close, the stranger smiled.
"Let's see you live up to that name, shall we?"
********

High Priestess Lizbet of the CoJ ~*~ [e-mail]
Co-List Mummy, Sunnydale Slayers: "Spank your inner moppet."
"I just LOVE these new toys that come with a new list! Woo-hoooo!" -- Anya
"Willow had a mental image of the two of them with Giles saying sternly,
'Repeat after me, please.  "The lady often slays on rainy days."'"--Elaine,
"Cuppa"





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

From: Lisa Rose <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Cage of the Burning Sun
Date: 05 Oct 1997 14:52:10 -0700

CAGE OF THE BURNING SUN

(To the tune of "House of the Rising Sun")

There is a cage in Sunnydale
Hung in the burning sun
It's been the ruin of a poor little boy
They called "Anointed One"

His mother died at vampire hands
When crash did go their bus
His sire was the Master, Lord
Before that man was dust

Now the only thing a vampire needs
Is a dark place and some blood
And the only kind keeps it satisfied
Is thick young crimson crud

It fills its mouth up to the brim
Then passes its victims 'round
And the only pleasure it gets outta death
Is heartbreakin' this town

Oh Mother, tell your children
Not to do what Anointed's done
End their lives writhing in agony
In the Cage of the Burning Sun

He'd vampire skin and vampire soul
But face of a little boy
His final thought as flesh flamed hot
Was Mom, the bus, his toy

All kids who come to Sunnydale
Your race will sure be run
If you should land in vampire hands
And the Cage of the Burning Sun

(Lyrics copyright 1997 by Lisa Rose)
This song is now in "Traditional Songs"
section of the Little Buffy Page at:
http://www.wco.com/~cybrpaws/lilbuffy.html



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

From: Lisa Rose <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Addicted to Blood
Date: 05 Oct 1997 18:35:22 -0700

ADDICTED TO BLOOD

(To the tune of "Addicted to Love" by Robert Palmer)

The lights are on, your soul's not home
Your neck is not your own
We're tradin' blood, yours sure tastes fine
Another sip and you'll be mine

Goodbye to food, goodbye to sleep
Just feel my fangs, they're in so deep
Your throat is wet, now you don't breathe
Just one more sip, you'll start to teethe

Chorus:

   You used to think you would gag on the stuff, oh yeah
   But after our exchange, you can't get enough
   And now you've even got a gameface...
   You're addicted to blood!

You see old friends, you feel the need
They all say "hi!," you whisper "bleed"
Their hearts beat, there in your mind
Who'd think a pulse could feel so fine?

A blood-starved fiend, you can't be saved
Hemoglobin is all you crave
If someone asks to walk with you
Heaven help them if you do

Chorus

Might as well face it, you're addicted to blood! (X4)

The lights are on, your soul's not home
Your body's not your own
Your lungs die, your teeth bite
Another sip, child of the night...

Chorus

Might as well face it, you're addicted to blood! (X8)

(Lyrics copyright 1997 by Lisa Rose;
title suggested by Jen Hawthorne)
This song is now in "Pop Songs" section
of the Little Buffy Page at:
http://www.wco.com/~cybrpaws/lilbuffy.html




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

From: [e-mail] (sah)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: ADMIN:  List rules
Date: 06 Oct 1997 10:05:43 -0400 (EDT)

1. Fiction should have Buffy characters in it and clearly be related
to Buffy.  Crossovers are great, and expected, but general
vampire/monster stories that aren't in the Buffy universe and don't
use Buffy characters belong somewhere else.

2. Discussion of posted fiction is permitted onlist.  Please put
"DISCUSS" in your subject line.  Requests for missing story parts
should go directly to the author, and not be posted to the list.

Discussion that is not related directly to the fiction should go over
to the general Buffy list.  Discussion of fiction is expected to
follow common netiquette guidelines and use PG-13 language.

3. No advertising of <any> items or services, Buffy related or not,
and no posting of non-story items such as .gifs, sound files, etc..
No attached files of <any> kind-- if your mailer makes your fiction
into attached files, you need to find another way to get it to the list.

4. If you're writing a story and including advance information on a
new episode, and you're posting your story earlier than the national
viewing time, please:

     **Mark the post as a "spoiler" in the subject header.
     **Leave about twelve lines (blank or with non-spoiler info) at
          the top of the post.

This ensures that anyone w*o doesn't like knowing about an episode
ahead of time is "protected."  :)   The blank space is for people whose
mailers automatically open up the next piece of mail, without giving
them a chance to see "spoiler" in the header.

Spoiler warnings are not necessary after the start of the episode's
national viewing time, which is currently set at 9 p.m. Mondays,
Eastern Standard Time.  Spoiler warnings are not necessary for reruns.

5.  This list is absolutely NOT for erotic fiction.  <Nothing> stronger
than sexually PG-13 material is to be posted to the list under any
circumstances.  A story may be R rated for violence or language, however.

If you have a question about something's suitability for posting, feel
free to ask one of the listowners.  Sending sexually explicit material
will get you immediately and permanently uns*bscribed.  No exceptions.

6.  By subscribing and/or posting to this list, you acknowledge that
Buffy the Vampire slayer and all characters associated with either
the televised series or the motion picture were created by Josh Whedon
and are owned by Mutant Enemy productions, Kuzui Productions,
Sandollar Productions, and 20th Century Fox.  All stories posted to
this list are for entertainment purposes only, are not sold for profit
of any kind, and are not intended to infringe on any copyrights.

7.  When posting stories to the list, please follow the following
formatting guidelines
--No story parts longer than 250 lines
--No lines longer than 75 characters
--Turn off your "smart quotes"-- many readers receive these as garbage
or weird symbols
--Put the title of the story in the subject header, indicate if it's a
multipart story, and if so what part this is.  Example:   Buffy Meets
Godzilla (2/65) indicates that this post is part two of a 65 part story.

8. If a story is rated "R" for language/violence, indicate this in an
introduction.  For example, "There's a really bloody fight scene at
the end of this part" or "if you don't like dismemberment, stop
reading now!"  If there's <any> chance that someone might be disturbed
by something in your story (even if it's not rated R) please include
some kind of warning up front.

9.  And last, but not least, the listowners reserve the right to deny
subscription (new, renewed, or continued) to the list for any
individual(s).

PLEASE NOTE:  not following any or all of these rules will get you
the following:

**First offense:  offender is uns*bscribed for one week.
**Second offense:  offender is uns*bscribed to the Buffyfic list for a
minimum of three months.
**If the offender returns and does it again, they're offlist
permanently.

As noted above, posting sexually explicit material is the exception --
you go straight to permanent unsubbing.

Again, welcome!  If  you have any questions about these rules, please
contact either one of us offlist.  If you have subscription problems or
questions, the fastest way to get h*lp is to e-mail one of us at the
addresses below, <not> at the [e-mail] addy which is the
"official" e-mail owner of the list.

Jill Kirby ([e-mail])
 &
Sharon Himmanen ([e-mail])
Listowners, Buffy the Vampire Slayer Fiction List
[e-mail]





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

From: Lisa Rose <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Cage of the Burning Sun (Completely Revised)
Date: 07 Oct 1997 12:16:41 -0700

CAGE OF THE BURNING SUN

(To the tune of "House of the Rising Sun")

There is a cage in Sunnydale
Exposed to the burning sun
A solar oven for that poor little vamp
They called "The Anointed One"

His mother died at vampire hands
When fangboys crashed their bus
His sire was the Master, Lord
Before that man was dust

Now the only thing the Master did
Was drain blood from some girl
And make a kid in his fruitless bid
To raise Hell in the world

He sent his lackeys up above
Then chortled to his son
And the only pleasure he got outta life
Was in killin' everyone

Oh mother, warn your children
Not to do as Colin's done
End their lives writhing in agony
In the Cage of the Burning Sun

With vampire teeth and vampire soul
But the face of a little boy
His final thought as his skin got hot
Was "Rosebud," his airplane toy

All you who come to Sunnydale
Don't ride the bus, but run!
Lest you may land in vampire hands
And the Cage of the Burning Sun

(Lyrics copyright 1997 by Lisa Rose)
These and other lyrics may be found at:
http://www.wco.com/~cybrpaws/lilbuffy.html



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

From: "Megan Lee" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Tallulah (part 1 of about 10 parts, more or less)
Date: 08 Oct 1997 16:30:00 PDT

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the regular Buffy characters they are
property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and the WB channel. I do claim
ownership of those characters that live out their lives in my
imagination and on my computer, like Tallulah and Company. The song "Die
with Me" is property of the band Type O Negative. Please do not sue me,
because I am already very much in debt. Thank you. 8o-)

*NOTE:I am not sure as to how many parts this will be as I am still
writing most of it. Please be patient and I will try to get the rest of
the parts up ASAP. Please send any comments or criticims on over to me.
I'd appreciate them. Now on with the Show.
Take Care
Wolfka

                          Tallulah
       based on the television series ôBuffy the Vampire Slayerö

    Shadows lay deep, sparked here and there, by the pinpricks of civilized
light at contrast with the wild stars above. The night is hushed as the
watcher gazes down on this small picturesque town
above the Hellmouth. Down there are the ones she seeks, the ones who are
fighting the darkness with the passions in their heart. Down there is
the chosen Slayer and her Watcher.

        They, the Slayer and her watcher, are different from those from
before. They are not alone in their battle against the vampires, demons
and forces of evil, they have a band of friends who help
them. Four of them are human, a boy, two girls and a woman, who is a
witch but not a witch. The last one is inhuman, one of the undead, a
vampire with a soul. That in and of itself is something one does not see
everyday, the night watcher well knows. A vampire with a soul is a
strange bird, especially, when he is attracted to the one who is sworn
to rid the world of vampires.

        Looking down the night watcher smiles, as she contemplates the
days ahead. Glancing at her companions she strokes their heads and
murmurs softly to them, ôTime to go make some memories,
my friends. Way past time.ö

**********

    The Bronze. The one place in town where itÆs OK for young people to
hang out. To listen to bands and relax. As usual, itÆs smoky and rich
with the noises of people having a peaceful evening listening to various
bands. The dance floor moves like a wind blown grain field, as couples
dance slowly to the sounds of a romantic song. In a dark corner, a young
girl is in the arms of someone much older than she. Her fair hair is
spread out over the black velvet shoulder of her companion, his head
near hers as he talks into her ear. Near them a boy and a girl sit
comparing notes on the snobbish Cordelia. Looking over the fair haired
girl throws in a rude comment about the brain
capacity of said Cordelia and the little band of merrymakers laugh and
smile.

    As the last dance ends, the stage darkens as a gauzy curtain falls
across the front. A hush falls over the Bronze as the crowd waits for
the next offering to be made at their sacrificial alter. The
sounds of a changing of the bands is heard and then silence.

Silence and darkness.

    Out of that silence comes a soft tinkling of ivory piano keys being
touched gently. Slowly in the darkness, a tune is built with just that
one instrument singing itÆs soul. The tune is quiet,
soothing, reminiscent of a brook babbling over well placed stones.

    The fair haired girl, whoÆs name is Buffy, feels the man next to her
stiffen as the piano music changes. The music becomes less whimsical,
and more dark and brooding by the second. Looking
up at her companion she whispers, ôAngel?ö

    The man looks down at her, his face a mask of agony, his eyes so full
of pain that he looks like a stranger.

    ôAngel what is it?ö she whispers again, touching him gently on the arm.
ôPlease, what is the matter?ö

    He rudely shakes off her arm, and tries to insist that it is nothing.
But as the music plays on Buffy sees that he is getting more and more
disturbed. Then the thin layer of gauze the only barrier
between the crowd and the band is raised. Seated at a baby grand piano
is a young woman. It is her hands that touch the keys evoking emotions
that are at once raw, throbbing agony to hear and yet oddly gentle,
soothing to the soul.

    Buffy hears her friend Xander inhale sharply as the woman is revealed,
and with good reason. She is in a word, beautiful. Her flawless pale
skin offsets her dark eyes and ruby red mouth.
About her shoulders tumbles a wild mass of hair, itÆs blackness haloed
in a burgundy sheen. Her outfit is simple, a long hunter green velvet
dress, drapes about her and spills out onto the floor. At her feet
sprawls a large silver ruffed wolf whoÆs green eyes are fastened on
Angel.  On top of the piano, a black cat lays elegantly, itÆs green eyes
are also fastened on Angel. The intensity of their gazes cause Buffy to
shiver, itÆs as if these creatures knew who and what Angel is.

    As Buffy notices all of this, the music reaches itÆs soul wrenching
climax and then there is silence. Wrenching her gaze from the stage
Buffy looks up at Angel and says to him quietly, ôwho is
she Angel? At least tell me that.ö

    Angel looks down slowly at her and in a pain edged whisper replies,
ôShe is the one who gave me back my soul at the command of the Romany.
She is the one who brought me again into this world as close to a human
as a vampire can be. She is called Tallulah, the memory maker. She is
more to me than you can even guess.ö

    As the last words leave his mouth, he turns his back on Buffy, on the
once again tinkling music and flees the Bronze. He never sees the shock
registering on BuffyÆs face, never sees the woman at the piano smile
sadly as she watches him leave.

********



______________________________________________________
Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com



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

From: "Megan Lee" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Tallulah (part 2 of 10 parts more or less)
Date: 08 Oct 1997 16:40:40 PDT

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the regular Buffy characters they are
property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and the WB channel. I do claim
ownership of those characters that live out their lives in my
imagination and on my computer, like Tallulah and Company. The song "Die
with Me" is property of the band Type O Negative. Please do not sue me,
because I am already very much in debt. Thank you. 8o-)




                         Tallulah
       based on the Television Series Buffy the Vampire Slayer

*********

     ôHey Buff, what was all that about? Did Angel get a little frisky
with you?ö a slightly mocking voice breaks into BuffyÆs shock. Shaking
her head slight she looks over to see her friends Xander and Willow
watching her.

    Xander is leaning into Willow, an arm thrown casually around her
shoulders, a smile on his face, eyes guiless. Beside him with her arm
around his waist and trying to not fall over, Willow stops smiling. She
has noticed that Buffy is genuinely disturbed, and her eyes darken with
concern. ôBuffy what is it?ö she asks.

    Still shaking her head Buffy, replies softly in a hurt edged voice to
XanderÆs previous question, ôNo he wasnÆt getting frisky. He ... he said
that the girl on the stage was someone out of his past. That she was the
one who made him human.ö

    XanderÆs eyes widened as he grasped the meaning in BuffyÆs words.
ôThat.. that would make her a ... a ... help me out Will, whatÆs the
word I am looking for?ö he asked desperately.

    Speaking at the same time Willow exclaimed, ôBut that would make her a
witch! And sheÆd be at least a hundred years old by now!ö

    Raising his eyes to the ceiling Xander breathed a sigh of relief,
ôThank you Willow, that was the word I needed.ö He gave her a quick hug
to tell her no harm should be taken by his sarcastic
words.

    ôYeah, really, thatÆs what sheÆd be and thatÆs how old sheÆd have to
be. But unless my Slayer senses are bugging out on me now, they are also
telling me that she is also a vampire. A very powerful vampire.ö Buffy
replied, her tone dry.

    ôA Vamp? Man, why are all the beautiful girls of the supernatural
kind?ö Xander exclaimed.

    Behind them, the object of their scrutiny gets up from the piano, steps
gracefully over the wolf and goes up to the microphone.

    ôGood Evening everyone. My name is Tallulah and I want to thank you for
having us here.ö her voice was rich, sophisticated, the slightest accent
burring through her words. Behind her other members of the band came out
onto the stage, carrying the various implements of their instruments.

    ôWe have a few songs of our own, although we are still at the stage
where covers of other bandÆs songs are a major part of our repetoire. We
hope you do not mind. For our first song we would like to do, is a song
by Type O Negative, called ôDie With Me.ö

    Behind her, a tall man with a guitar started to strum at the stings,
the chords forming a rich backdrop to the words. His voice is soothing,
plaintive, singing of a last wish that will never come
true.

    ôNow like a bird
     She flew away
     To Chase her dreams
     Of books and praise
      Still I miss her
     Yeah I miss her
     Since sheÆs gone...ö

    Over the music, Buffy turned to her friends and said ôLetÆs go see
Giles. He might have a clue as to what is going on. Then again maybe
not.. but I need to get out of here.ö Grabbing her purse and leather
jacket Buffy started for the door.

    Xander looked at Willow and they both shrugged. ôTo the library it is
then... Hey Buff wait up!ö They raced after her.

    Behind them the band played on, the singer asking plaintively
    ôIf this time were the last time
     Could I hold you all life long?
     Since this time is the last time
         Can I hold you all night long?

         Still I miss her
     Yeah I miss her
     Since sheÆs goneö

********

    ôAre you sure that the woman who supposedly changed Angel is a witch
and a vampire?ö Giles asked his disbelief plain on his face.

    ôHello Giles! I know what my senses tell me, and I donÆt see how an
ordinary woman could have changed Angel like that without some help from
her magical friends!ö Buffy exclaimed in exasperation.

    They were gathered in the library, she, Giles, Willow, Xander and Jenny
Calender. The glow from the overheads bathed them all in a ruddy glow.
Giles sat at a table piled high with various tomes of vampire lore and
prophecies. His hair is all mussed up and he is wearing his normal
apparel of rumpled slept in clothing. Beside him Jenny and Willow sit
scanning the Internet on two different computers for any accounts of
vampires who might also be witches. Xander sprawls in a chair, a book on
one knee as he looks over WillowÆs shoulder, and pays scant attention to
the conversation, which is in itÆs 4th go around.

    ôWhy donÆt you believe me?ö Buffy asked, throwing her hands up in the
air as she paced the room.

    ôItÆs not that I donÆt believe you Buffy, itÆs just that... well... I
have never in my life heard of such a thing happening. I havenÆt seen it
any of the books I have read. I just want to make sure we have all the
facts before we start thinking too hard.ö

    ôOh, and when has that stopped you before?ö

    Giles just looked over his glasses at her. ôTo quote you.... æthat was
harsh.Æö Sitting back he ran his hands through his hair, making it stand
further out on end.

    ôRupert,ö Jenny said quietly, as she looked up from her computer. ôYou
may be wrong about there never being any record of such a being. I just
got an email from a good friend of mine, Snugglebunny,ö Xander broke up
in laughter over the name, repeating it over and over. Giving him a cold
look Jenny went on, ôshe is faxing over a copy of an old diary she has.
Her great grandmother was in a romany clan, and in it she writes of a
young woman whoÆs skin was pale, lips blood red, hair like ebony, who
lived with her clan.ö

    ôHmmm sounds like Snow White to me.ö Xander stated deadpan. ôMirror
mirror on the wall whoÆs the fairest of them all.ö He suddenly cackled
like the Disney witch from the movie.

    Elbowing her friend sharly in the ribs, Willow said ôCut it out Xander.
YouÆre  not helping.ö
    Just then the fax machine beeped loudly. Rushing over to it, Giles
started to fight with Buffy over the possesion of the document. Jenny
walked over calmly and snatched the paper from their
grasping hands. ôI will take that, thank you very much. Hmmm these are
the recipes I asked for. Oh good. The next fax will be the one you would
like to see Rupert.ö

    As if on cue, the fax machine beeped again. Giving his young charge a
stern glare, Giles gently took the sheaf of papers from the machine and
started to scan.  He began to pace, his face growing very stern, as he
concentrated on the old text.

    ôAh, I believe this is what we were looking for....Supposedly this
woman was traveling about alone when the clan picked her up and allowed
her to travel with them. Oh wait she wasn't completely alone, she had
two companions, a large dog and a black cat,ö turning suddenly Giles
looked at Buffy. ôDidnÆt you say that there was a wolf and a cat on the
stage tonight?ö

    Nodding with her eyes on the floor, Buffy tried hard to block out the
memory of those eyes. Looking up she met GilesÆ gaze. ôThey were really
weird Giles, they both had green eyes, and all the while they just
stared at Angel as though they knew exactly who and what he was.ö

    ôHmph. Well this may well be the same woman. SnugglebunnyÆs great
grandmother writes of her as having a lot of power, and that she only
wished to go out at dusk. Hmmm. It also states that there was a trouble
in another clan and the woman went to solve it. She returned with a
young man, who left several days later. The great grandmother describes
him as the most beautiful man she had ever seen.ö

    Buffy breathed in slowly and then exhaled, ôAngel.ö

    ôSo it would seem.ö

    ôIÆve got to talk to him. Now, tonight.ö

    Grabbing her jacket, she turned to Xander and Willow, ôPlease, stay
here. I want to see him alone.ö

    ôNo prob Buf. I think there is a banana split calling my name.. how
about you Willow?ö Xander turned to his best friend bopping her lightly
on the head with his book.

    ôSure. Take Care Buffy.ö Willow managed to get out before she started
to tickle Xander.

    ôThanks guys....ö Buffy started for the door, her pace quick, agitated.

    Giles took a step after her..öBuffy..ö

    Looking back at him, Buffy smiled and said ôYes, Giles, I know. Be
careful.ö

    Then she was gone.

*********
    On a hill top across town, Angel stood looking up at the stars.



______________________________________________________
Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com



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

From: Lisa Rose <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Little Buffy Movie Section!
Date: 09 Oct 1997 18:25:53 -0700

The Summers family is adding a new room to their
Little Buffy house for "Little Buffy's Movies"!
It's a small list of movies now (at five), but
it's bound to grow.  You can find it by clicking
on "Little Buffy's Recreation" at:
http://www.wco.com/~cybrpaws/lilbuffy.html

As a little sample, I include item #5 below,
because both the movie and TV episode that inspired
it were just released and aired respectively:

5. KISS THE BOYS (and make them shrivel) -  A centuries-old Peruvian mummy
   (Tiffani Amber Thiessen) just wants to be like any other normal high school
   girl.  But in doing so she leaves in her wake a string of desiccated
   boyfriends like so many emptied juice boxes in a high-school lunchroom.
   The local slayer (Ashley Judd) is baffled as to how to recognize and
   terminate Little Miss "Candy from the Andes" before she strikes again.
   And the danger is closer to home than she realizes!  Her only hope lies
   in Xander Harris (Morgan Freeman), "the boy who got away."

Lisa
Keeper of Little Spike's "Bite Me Elmo" Doll



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

From: Lisa Rose <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Violent Night
Date: 10 Oct 1997 15:00:55 -0700

The 13th (gotta love that number!) and final
installment in "Little Buffy's Christmas Songs"


VIOLENT NIGHT

(To the tune of "Silent Night")

Violent night, unholy night!
Watch your back, classmates bite
'Round blonde Slayer, thrust after thrust
Vampires perish in poofs of bright dust
Sweep them up if you please
Sweep them up if you please

Violent night, unholy night!
Young vamps run from this fight.
Scattering clouds say she's got the Right Stuff
Willow and Xander scream "Way to go, Buff!"
Come on and face her, it's cool
Come on and face her, you fool

Violent night, unholy night!
Joyce's kid gets it right
Stakes flash brightly, her crossbow it sings
Feel the peace that a good slaying brings!
Creeps, you picked the wrong town
Creeps, come turn sandy and brown


(Lyrics copyright 1997 by Lisa Rose)
http://www.wco.com/~cybrpaws/lilbuffy.html



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

From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Fwd: Fanzine: This is not a threat!!
Date: 11 Oct 1997 10:52:12 -0400 (EDT)

This reply has also been sent to the newsgroups.
On 9 Oct 1997 23:29:50 GMT in the alt.tv.buffy-v-slayer newsgroup,
[e-mail] (VampSlyr13) wrote:
> Okay, it seems that you all took my threat of a Buffy fanzine as a joke.  I
> AM
>  NOT JOKING!  :) I am planning on publishing a Buffy the Vampire Slayer
>  fanzine.  However, it will only work if you all contribute!  If anyone has
>  any, or would like to write stories, poems, essays, or draw pictures to
>  contribute, that would be great!  My only request is that it has not been
>  published previously anywhere else, in print or on the 'net.

> You can email me at [e-mail] for more details or to contribute.
> Also
>  looking for ideas for a title.

> Micki

Nice idea, Micki. I hope no one minds, but I'm forwarding this
message to the buffy-beta and buffyfic mailing lists. I know you
want *unpublished* fanfic, but I'm sure that some of the authors who
post here will be willing to whip something up just for you. ;-)=
--
          +-------------------------------------------------+
          | Dalton S. Spence, B.Sc. <[e-mail]>|
          | Home Page: http://www.hwcn.org/~ag775/home.html |
          +-------------------------------------------------+



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

From: [e-mail] (Perri Smith)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Stranger (1/8)
Date: 11 Oct 1997 22:55:28 -0500 (CDT)

This is part of the Chaos challenge that got started over on the Sunnydale
Slayers list, to retell episodes from the point of view of someone other
than Buffy. Chris Kamnikar started it with her stories 'Mad Moon in
Scorpio' and 'Shadow of an Apocalypse' (blatent plug), so I got into the
act. This would be 'Angel', from the POV of everyone's favorite redhead,
Willow. This story (and the two mentioned above) are archived at
http://www.enteract.com/~perridox/SunS/.

Thanks to my beta readers, Lizbet, Chris, Dianne, Catherine, Tina, and the
SunS. Dedicated to Chris, who finally has her revenge for my endless
nagging about 'Prophecy Girl'; to Tina, who had absolutely *no* objections
to endlessly re-watching 'Angel' to catch the dialogue we didn't already
have memorized; and to Leslie, just because she appreciated it.

If you recognize the dialogue, Mutant Enemy owns it, like they own all of
the characters I'm using without permission. Anything you don't recognize
is mine.

The Stranger
by Perri Smith
Copyright 1997

"In lone and silent hours,
When night makes a weird sound of its own stillness...
Have I mixed awful talk and asking looks
With my most innocent love, until strange tears
Uniting with those breathless kiss, made
Such magic as compels the charmed night
To render up thy charge ..."
        -- Percy Byshe Shelley

*****

For Chris, who finally has her revenge for my endless nagging about
'Prophecy Girl'; for Tina, who had absolutely *no* objections to endlessly
re-watching 'Angel' to catch the dialogue we didn't already have memorized;
and for Leslie, just because she appreciated it.

If you recognize the dialogue, Mutant Enemy owns it, like they own all of
the characters I'm using without permission. Anything you don't recognize
is mine.

The Stranger
by Perri Smith
Copyright 1997

"In lone and silent hours,
When night makes a weird sound of its own stillness...
Have I mixed awful talk and asking looks
With my most innocent love, until strange tears
Uniting with those breathless kiss, made
Such magic as compels the charmed night
To render up thy charge ..."
        -- Percy Byshe Shelley

Willow Rosenberg had been fifteen years old the first night she stepped
inside the Bronze. It had been the first night of freshman year of high
school, and she and Xander and Jesse had had to spend most of the day
collectively working up their courage before they could hand over their
money and walk past the bouncer at the door of the teen club.

It had been one of the great 'coming of age' moments of her life, for all
that she'd spent most of her nights there holding down a seat at the bar,
watching Jesse try to hit on Cordelia, and Xander try to hit on anything
female and reasonably cute. Except Willow, of course.

That had all changed when Buffy Summers moved to town. From that first
night, when Buffy had ignored Willow's 'loser' status and stayed to talk --
and later saved Willow's life when she took Buffy's advice a bit too close
to heart -- the Bronze had actually become a fun place to be.  Willow
didn't have to sit alone anymore; Buffy was there, ready to join her in
commenting on the cute guys, teasing Xander, and discussing life, slaying,
and everything.  And if vampires occasionally wandered through now, looking
for a midnight snack -- well, that was what being a Slayerette was all
about. It wasn't such a bad deal.

Of course, not every night was fun and games. Like tonight. Xander was off
trying to pick up someone else's girlfriend, and Buffy might as well have
been a million miles away, even if she was sitting just across the table,
playing with her drink. She'd stirred herself earlier to use her Slaying
talents against the cockroaches, and racked up enough free drinks to last
the trio all night, setting a new Bronze record in the process.

But at the moment, even the air of revelry around them wasn't enough to
drag her  back to the here and now.

 Willow gave it one more shot. "Ah, the Fumigation Party," she said as
cheerfully as possible, pitching her voice to carry over the music. Buffy
didn't seem to hear her; Willow continued determinedly. "It's an annual
tradition - the closing of the Bronze for a few days to nuke the
cockroaches."

The only response was a distracted, "Oh."

Willow shook her head, caught between amusement and a bit of
worry. "It's a lot of fun," she told Buffy pointedly. "What's it like where
you are?"

The teasing apparently penetrated at last; Buffy blinked and focused on
Willow's face for the first time. Willow smiled tolerantly at her bud, who
had the grace to laugh at herself. "I'm... sorry. I was just... thinking
about things."

Among teenage girls, that particular inflection had only one meaning. "So,
we're talking about a guy?" Willow asked knowingly.

Buffy made a face. "Not exactly a guy. For us to have a conversation about
a guy, there'd have to be a guy for us to have a conversation about." She
paused, looking confused. "Was that a sentence?"

Willow got the idea; it wasn't like they hadn't had this conversation a
million times before. "You lack a guy."

Buffy sighed and looked down at her half-melted Coke. "I do. Which is fine
with me, most of the time. But..."

Her voice trailed off and Willow nodded sympathetically. "What about
Angel?" she asked carefully. This was tricky territory with Buffy, who
generally either claimed to *really* hate her mystery man, or lapsed into
detailed and poetic descriptions of his eyes. Which were pretty worthy of
poetic description, Willow admitted, at least from the one time she'd seen
Angel up close.

"Angel?" No, not one of the poetic nights; if anything, Buffy looked more
depressed. "I can just see him in a relationship. 'Hi honey, you're in
grave danger. I'll see you next month.'"

"He's not around much. That's true."

"But when he is around..." Buffy's eyes got dreamy, and Willow tried to
hide her grin. It was going to be a poetic night after all. "...it's like
the lights dim everywhere else. You know how it's like that with some
guys?"

"Oh yeah," Willow sighed, letting her eyes trail back to the dance floor.
She knew where Xander was, as if he was wearing a homing beacon only she
could sense. It had been like that for a couple of years now, ever since
the day when she'd looked up and discovered that her life-long friend was
also cute, funny, and all-together perfect for her. She lived in hope that
someday he'd realize the same thing -- but she wasn't counting on it.

At the moment, the only thing Xander seemed to be aware of was Annie Vega,
and shortly thereafter, Annie's boyfriend, Dino. Willow shook her head in
disgust as Xander backed off so fast he almost ran over Cordelia, but
couldn't stop smiling at him, even as a little, wistful jab of pain poked
at her heart. He was even cute when he was being an idiot over another
girl.

Xander escaped from Cordelia with what must have been a pretty good parting
shot for once, judging by the evil glare she sent at his back. "Boy, that
Cordelia's a regular breath of vile air,"  he commented as he retreated to
the safety of Willow and Buffy's table. "What are you vixens up to?"

Willow shrugged. "Just sitting here watching our barren lives pass us by.
Oh, look. A cockroach." She closed one eye to aim better, and stomped.
Cockroach floor pizza. Who said Slayerettes never got to do any of the
dirty work?

Xander was less than impressed by her feat. "Whoa, let's stop this crazy
whirligig of fun. I'm dizzy."

Buffy almost laughed, changed it into a sigh, and got up. "All right, now
I'm infecting those nearest and dear to me. I'm going to call it a night."

"Oh, don't go," Willow protested.

"Yeah!" Xander echoed her with way too much enthusiasm for Willow's taste.
"It's early. We could, um..." he groped for something, anything, to say
*other* than what he really wanted to say, which would involve close bodily
contact if Willow was any judge. "...dance," he finally finished lamely.

To Willow's somewhat guilty relief, Buffy wasn't pursuaded. "Raincheck?
Good night."

She left and Xander slumped at the table, staring after her with puppy dog
eyes. Willow was torn between hitting him for being so dense and hugging
him because he looked so adorable when he was being pathetic. She settled
for offering him the squished contents of the bottom of her shoe. "Want a
free drink?"

He looked pained and shoved it away, slumping even lower with his chin on
his fist.  Willow rolled her eyes and gave up. It was going to be one of
those nights.

*****

Sure enough, Xander spent the rest of the evening sulking, and since no
cute guys ever hung around looking for Willow, she escaped after another
hour, retreating to the safety of her computer and her on-line friends.
Even that wasn't much solace, though; she kept winding up staring at the
picture of her and Xander on her desk next to the computer, and slipping
into improbable, but highly entertaining, fantasies, involving kissing, and
hugging, and declarations of unending love, and kissing....

After the third or fourth one of those, she flipped off her monitor in
disgust, and flopped onto her back on the bed for a good, long bout of
self-pity. She didn't indulge very often, but this seemed like as good a
night as any.

"It's not fair," she informed her battered old teddy bear. "I mean, I know
it's not Buffy's fault; she can't help being gorgeous, and strong, and
exciting, and generally Xander's dream come true. I'm just boring old
Willow, no excitement or mystery about me."

She tucked her teddy bear up under her chin, and rolled onto her side to
gaze at the picture of her and Xander again. Jesse had taken it in ninth
grade, on the annual zoo trip. She didn't remember why she and Xander had
gotten into the wrestling match, she just remembered that it had been more
or less a draw.

"I'm glad I'm not the Slayer and all; I *really* don't want Buffy's job. I
just wish *my* job was a little more exciting than Research Girl." She
sighed. "Maybe then Xander would remember I'm alive."

She sighed again, then kissed her bear on the head and forced herself to
get up and get ready for bed. Thankfully, she didn't dream of Xander *or*
vampires that night, just a good, old-fashioned 'trapped on stage and
didn't learn the words to the song' nightmare. No problem.

Perri <[e-mail]>      I *am* the Buffy Evangalist!
NatPacker-*-Horsechick-*-Pretender-*-Cohenhead-*-DDEB2-*-AGA-*-SunS-*-CoJ
"I'm putting a collar with a little bell on that guy." -- Xander





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

From: [e-mail] (Perri Smith)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Stranger (2/8)
Date: 11 Oct 1997 22:55:49 -0500 (CDT)

See disclaimer in part 1.

The Stranger (Part 2)
by Perri Smith
Copyright 1997

*****

Willow had been intending to track Buffy down the instant she got to
school, to see if her friend's mood had improved any. Before she got the
chance, she found the normally *emphatically* anti-morning Slayer bouncing
next to her locker, her face glowing and her eyes bright.

"I got attacked by some really heavy-duty vampires last night," she
announced gleefully.

Willow's eyebrows went up; this was generally considered a Bad Thing. "And
you won?" she guessed, opening her locker and starting to trade out books
from her backpack. Biology, English, demonology, history.... "I'm assuming
you won or we probably wouldn't be having this conversation. Well, unless
Giles knows how to run a seance or something. Which he probably does,
'cause he's Giles."

Willow realized she was babbling and stopped, but it didn't matter, since
Buffy wasn't listening anyway. "There were three of them," she was saying
enthusiastically, "really big and tough, too. They backed me up against a
fence and I was sure I was totally toast!"

This still didn't sound like cause for celebration. In fact, Willow was
getting sick to her stomach at just the description. She stared at her
friend, backpack dangling, forgotten, from one hand. "Buffy! You could have
been killed! Why is this good?"

"Because," Buffy looked deeply smug, "I was rescued."

Someone rescuing the Slayer instead of vice versa. Concept. "By?" Willow
asked cautiously. Then realization dawned. Cat with a canary smile, glowing
eyes, color in the cheeks, bounce in the step.... "Angel?"

If possible, Buffy's face got even brighter. "Yes!"

"Oh, wow!" Willow closed her locker and leaned against it, wide-eyed and
ready to hear all of the gory details.

Which Buffy was more than happy to supply. "He came from out of nowhere. I
thought it was all over and then, boom, there he was! He grabbed one of
them by the hair and just pulled him away from me! I shook loose of the
other two, and he kept the third one off me. Until he got slashed in the
ribs," she remembered, her face darkening a bit. "That wasn't quite as
cool."

"Angel got hurt? Is he okay?"

"Oh, he's fine." Better than fine, if Buffy's sappy, lovesick smile was
anything to go by. "We made it to my house and I bandaged him up, then I
was afraid to let him leave so he spent the night in my room."

Buffy said the last part incredibly casually; Willow's jaw dropped another
inch. "In your *room*? For real?"

"For *totally* real!" Buffy dropped the nonchalant facade again in her
enthusiasm. "Oh, Willow, he was so sweet! We talked a little bit, and he
told me I was pretty, and then he went to sleep -- he's so *cute* when he's
asleep!"

Willow laughed at her friend, ignoring a faint stab of envy. Buffy looked
so in love, and Angel seemed like such a cool guy. He'd helped with the
vampires, and saved Buffy's life, and everything, and the fact that he
looked like something out of a romance novel didn't hurt. "It sounds like
you had a pretty terrific night."

"Yeah." Buffy sighed, wrapping her arms around her books and leaning back
against the lockers, staring happily at nothing in particular. She was
totally gone.

"Have you told Giles about the vampires who attacked you?"  Willow asked,
trying to keep *some* perspective, although what she really wanted to do
was drag Buffy off to a corner for a blow-by-blow description of every
second spent alone with Tall, Dark and Mysterious Guy. "I think he'll
probably want to know."

Buffy dragged herself back from the land of daydreams. "I woke up in the
middle of the night and remembered to call him. Got him up around midnight;
he was kind of, um, incoherent. But he said he'd work on it."

"Did you tell him about, um...?"

Buffy made a face. "Not yet, but I guess I'll have to. Angel makes him
kinda nervous; Giles *hates* it when anyone has more information than he
does about *anything*, especially vampires. "

"And...?" Willow prompted; Buffy had the look that meant she was leaving
something out.

"And I'd kind of rather not tell him how close a call it was," Buffy
admitted. "He tends to wig, and I don't want to stay after school for
another practice session. Angel's staying at my house today so he can
recover, and I don't want to, you know, leave him alone for too long. When
he's wounded and all."

"Better safe than sorry," Willow agreed, with a conspiratorial smile. Buffy
smiled back, the two of them understanding each other perfectly.

"Sorry about what?" The male voice popping into a such a girl moment
surprised both of them, and almost got Xander flattened. "Hey, don't beat
up on me," he defended himself, as Buffy lowered the fist she'd raised
instinctively. "I didn't do it, whatever it is."

Fortunately, both girls were now in too good of a mood to really let him
have it. "Good morning, Xander," Buffy greeted him cheerfully, as if she
hadn't just almost decked him. "And of course you didn't do anything,
silly, except for sneaking up on us."

"Oh. Well, good." Xander looked a little baffled, but recovered quickly,
opening his locker and searching its terrifying depths -- for a textbook,
Willow hoped, or he was going to flunk another math test fifth period. "So,
what are we talking about?"

"Coming to the library as soon as possible; at least, you should be."
Another male almost bit the dust, and Willow fought back a giggle at the
look Buffy's face as she realized it was Giles this time, and once again
lowered her arm. The near miss last night must have Buffy's nerves more on
edge than she thought, Angel or not.

"You've got to stop doing that!" the Slayer told her Watcher with exasperation.

"Sorry." He didn't look it, but then, Giles never did. He *did* look like
he had been mainlining tea; there was a cup in his hand and it wasn't
clean."I may have found some information; can you escape homeroom?"

"If you write us passes, no problem," Buffy shrugged. "Lead the way."

They trailed along behind Giles to the library, which was empty, as usual.
The students at Sunnydale High avoided the place religiously -- or maybe
they were just avoiding Giles, who had a tendency to eye anyone invading
his domain with more than a little hostility. Except the Slayerettes, of
course... well, most of the time.

"So, what've you found out?" Buffy asked, boucing by the shelves, too wired
to sit still. Willow elected to sit on the table, the better to hear the
good parts. Xander roamed.

"I believe I've discovered who your assailants were," Giles said over his
shoulder, as he retreated into the stacks. "By the way, you neglected to
tell me how you escaped their clutches."

Willow and Buffy exchanged looks. Busted. "Well, I kind of had help," Buffy
said reluctantly. "Angel showed up and sort of... gave me a hand."

"Angel?" Xander straightened up so suddenly Willow was afraid he'd hurt
himself. "Weird Guy was around?"

"Yes, *Angel* was around." Buffy sounded a little miffed at the insult,
never mind that she habitually referred to Angel as worse. "He was really
great, Giles; he took on those vampire thugs without even flinching, even
when he got hurt. I took him home to take care of him last night and he was
all bloody and... um...."

Willow had been frantically signalling her during the last part of the
gushing, but Buffy didn't realize she'd said too much until it was too
late. She shut up anyway, looking guilty. Fortunately, Giles had no more
response than a raised eyebrow.

Xander, on the other hand, looked close to having a conniption. "He spent
the night in your room? In your bed?"

"Not *in* my bed, *by* my bed," Buffy clarified impatiently.

"That is so romantic," Willow sighed. Unable to resist, she asked what she
*really* wanted to know. "Did you, uh.... I mean, did he...?"

Buffy looked *incredibly* smug. "Perfect gentleman."

Wow. Maybe Angel really *was* the perfect guy. Willow hoped so, for Buffy's
sake.

Willow's less-than-perfect-but-still-adorable guy looked even more unhappy
than before. "Buffy! Come on, wake up and smell the seduction! It's the
oldest trick in the book!"

"What? Saving my life? Getting slashed in the ribs?"

Buffy was starting to sound less than amused.  Out of love or stupidity,
Xander persisted. "Duh! I mean, guys'll do anything to impress a girl. I
once drank an entire gallon of Gatorade without taking a breath."

He looked proud of himself, and Willow admitted, "It was pretty
impressive." And it had been, for about five minutes. "Although later,
there was an ick factor." Which was putting it mildly. That party had ended
on a *really* disgusting note, and Elizabeth Shay hadn't been all that
impressed to begin with.

"Can we steer this riveting conversation back to the events of last night?"
Giles interrupted dryly, returning from the stacks with one of his ancient
books in hand. Buffy sat down and Willow slid around on the table to face
him as everyone shut up and paid attention, more or less. "You left the
Bronze last night and were set upon by three unusually virile vampires. Did
they look like this?"

"Yeah." Buffy frowned down at the page Giles handed her and Willow craned
her neck to see. Even Xander stopped sulking long enough to peer over
Buffy's shoulder. "What's with the uniforms?"

Willow studied the book upside down. The vampires pictured there seemed to
be wearing Klingon uniforms. They would have looked silly if it wasn't for
the menace glowing from their eyes, even in the pen and ink drawing.
Definitely the bad guys.

"It seems you encountered The Three," Giles told Buffy. "Warrior vampires,
very proud and very strong."

"How is it you always know this stuff?" Willow demanded. It got really
frustrating sometimes, always having to have everything explained when she
was used to being the one handing out the information. "You always know
what's going on. I never know what's going on."

Giles looked at her with a slight edge of irritation. "Well, you weren't
here from midnight until six researching it," he pointed out, taking
another long sip from his tea.

Willow shrank back a little. "No. I was sleeping."

He nodded as if that settled it -- which it did -- and returned to
business. "Obviously, you're hurting the Master very much," he told Buffy,
taking off his glasses and polishing them with his handkerchief in one of
his habitual gestures. He looked younger without them, and much more tired.
"He wouldn't send The Three for just anyone. We must step up our training
with weapons."

Buffy nodded, looking resigned, and Willow made a sympathetic face. Giles
was getting predictable.

So was Xander, actually. "Buffy, you should stay at my house until these
samurai guys are history." Buffy turned on him with a 'what the heck are
you bibbling about?' expression and Xander hurriedly added, "Don't worry
about Angel, we'll look around your house and tell him to get out of town
fast."

I just bet you will, Willow thought, rolling her eyes at Buffy, who rolled
hers in return. Boys. Xander was so jealous of Angel he couldn't stand it;
he'd *love* an excuse to get rid of Buffy's mystery man for a while.

Giles had apparently missed the whole thing. "Angel and Buffy are not in
any immediate jeopardy," he said thoughtfully, replacing his glasses.
"Eventually, the Master will send someone else. But in the meantime The
Three, having failed, will offer their own lives in penance."

"And on that cheerful note," Buffy said hastily, standing up and retrieving
her bag, "it's about time for first period. Giles, can you give the cut
slips for homeroom to Willow? I have to, um, be... somewhere."

She headed for door at top speed, but wasn't quite fast enough. "As long as
one of the places you have to be is here after school for training," Giles
called after her. She slowed to a walk, her shoulders slumping, and turned
around to argue.

Giles wasn't having any of it.  "I mean it, Buffy," he said sternly, before
she could say a word. "Right after class."

"But..."

"Buffy, this is your life we're talking about." Giles had the look on his
face that none of them bothered trying to argue with anymore, the serious
'It's for your own good and that's the end of it' look. They ignored that
look sometimes, but they didn't argue with it. "If you won't train to
protect yourself, then think of protecting those around you. Such as Angel,
perhaps?"

Ouch. Willow winced on Buffy's behalf; talk about hitting someone where
they lived. Buffy looked simultaneously wounded and rebellious, then gave
it up. "All right, Giles, I'll come right after sixth period. Promise. But
I need to be home in time for dinner."

"You will be," Giles assured her, before he was distracted by his book
again. Buffy left, looking unhappy; Xander trailed behind her and Willow
waited for Giles to look back up.

"Um, Giles?" she said after a very long moment; he started as if just being
reminded of her presence. All too used to being forgotten, she patiently
asked, "Excuse slips? For homeroom? So Buffy doesn't wind up in detention
instead of practice?" Giles wasn't the only one who knew how to make a
point.

"Ah. Yes." He blinked rapidly and put the book back down, careful not to
lose his place. He had to search through his desk to find the excuse slips
-- why, Willow didn't know, since he had to use them practically every day
to get either Buffy or Willow out of class -- and finally retrieved a stack
of the forms from beneath two grimoires, a box of tea and a silver-hilted
knife. He scribbled his illegible signature at the bottom of three of them;
Willow accepted them, then retreated to let him get back to his research as
first-period bell rang. As she left the library, he was already heading
back to his office, reading as he walked and muttering something to himself
under his breath.

She hoped he didn't run into a wall or anything.

Perri <[e-mail]>      I *am* the Buffy Evangalist!
NatPacker-*-Horsechick-*-Pretender-*-Cohenhead-*-DDEB2-*-AGA-*-SunS-*-CoJ
"I'm putting a collar with a little bell on that guy." -- Xander





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

From: [e-mail] (Perri Smith)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Stranger (4/8)
Date: 12 Oct 1997 19:17:49 -0500 (CDT)

See disclaimer in part 1.

The Stranger (Part 4)
by Perri Smith
Copyright 1997

*****

The morning was more or less a total waste, but Willow hadn't expected
anything else. She paid enough attention during history and biology to
cover for Buffy, who was still in a daze; Willow had to drag her off to the
girls room between classes to talk. Buffy was bouncing between total,
shocked disbelief, and equally shocked attempts at rationalization,
babbling everything about the previous evening more or less incoherently .
Willow listened silently, letting her friend vent enough to get her through
the next class.

She had to leave her in Xander's hands for third period, though; Buffy had
her free period then, but Willow suspected she'd spend it anywhere but the
library. Xander, of course, had no problems with cutting class to keep an
eye on Buffy.

Computer science, usually Willow's favorite part of the day, seemed to drag
on forever. Ms. Calendar caught her staring off into space at least twice
during the period, and stopped to ask if anything was wrong. Her teacher
looked so concerned, Willow almost found herself spilling it all, but
caught herself at the last second. "No," she lied, "nothing's wrong."

Ms. Calendar looked completely unconvinced, but didn't push. "All right,"
she said calmly, "but if you need to talk to anyone about whatever's not
wrong, you know where I am."

Willow attempted a smile. "I know. Thanks."

Ms Calendar studied her with knowing, sympathetic eyes for another long
moment, then went off to look over Dave's shoulder at his current project.
Willow tried to bury herself in programming, but found herself staring off
into space again within a few minutes.

It just seemed so unbelievable. She remembered the first time she'd seen
Angel, that night at the Bronze when he'd come to warn Buffy about Fork
Guy, as they still called the nameless clawed vampire Buffy had killed.
He'd been hovering in the doorway, dressed in stark black and white and
looking nothing like the super-annoying smart aleck Buffy had described in
vivid (and irritated) detail. He'd looked serious, and intense... and
alone, even in the crowd of people.

Maybe that was why Willow had instinctively liked Angel -- even from across
the crowded dance floor, she'd seen her own loneliness reflected in his
dark, shadowed eyes. Then he'd given Buffy his jacket, settling it
carefully around her shoulders to make sure she hadn't gotten cold, and won
Willow's romantic heart over forever.

And then there'd been the look he'd worn when Buffy had kissed Owen in
front of him at the Bronze a few weeks later.....

Why would a vampire give the Slayer his jacket, much less the cross he'd
given her at their first meeting, the one Buffy almost never took off? Why
would he care when she kissed another guy? Why would he warn her, why would
he protect her from his own kind? It made no sense, none at all. She'd
*liked* Angel, and Buffy was in love with him. They couldn't both be that
wrong about him; it just wasn't possible.

"Willow?" Willow jolted, then looked up guiltily at Ms. Calendar, who was
looking down at her with worried eyes. "The bell just rang. You might want
to try to get to fourth period sometime before lunch."

"Oh. The bell. Right." Willow saved her program, retrieved her disk, then
bolted for the door before her favorite teacher could ask any more
questions Willow couldn't answer.

*****

She made it to the library before Xander and Buffy did at lunch, and found
Giles pouring over a stack of books, as usual. He didn't even look up when
she came in, just gestured towards a smaller stack at the edge of the table
-- the books written in modern English that the Slayerettes could be
trusted to read without missing anything or hurting the book. Giles' faith
in them had its limits.

Willow obeyed his silent order, pulling up a chair and taking the first
book off the top of the stack. Someone's handwritten manuscript, yellowing
paper bound into faded, patterned leather. She skimmed a few pages, without
much interest. "Have you found anything yet?"

"Not yet."

"Oh." Another few pages. "Nothing about Angel, in any of these books?"

"Not that I've discovered."

"Oh." A few more pages. "Giles?"

He sighed, and put his book down to look at her. "Yes, Willow?"

Now that she had his attention, she wasn't quite sure what to do with it.
Finally, she asked the question she'd been asking herself all day. "Giles,
does Angel have to be a bad guy? I mean, are you sure he is?"

Giles sighed again, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. They were
bloodshot from too much research and too little sleep. "I... wish he
weren't, Willow -- for Buffy's sake, at least. I know she is fond of Angel
and she.... Well, he has, perhaps, given her reason to be. As he has given
you, I gather?" Willow blushed under his entirely-too-perceptive gaze,
looking back down at her book. "But he *is* a vampire, and Buffy's
emotions, like yours, may be clouding her judgment. A Slayerer cannot
afford that luxury, nor can a Watcher. We must assume Angel is like the
rest of his kind."

"So all vampires are alike?" Willow persisted. "They're all the same?"

"No, of course not," Giles said with more than a little exasperation. "They
are individuals, but individual demons. And they are all evil."

"How can you be sure?" Willow asked in a tiny voice, without looking up
from her book. "How can you *know*?"

It took Giles a long time to answer. "Because I *must* know," he said
finally, turning his glasses over in his hands as if seeing them for the
first time. "Because to assume otherwise, against all evidence to the
contrary, would be risking the Slayer on nothing more than wishful
thinking. And because I would far rather it was Buffy's heart that was
broken than Buffy herself."

Willow couldn't really think of anything to say to that. He was right,
after all.

Fortunately, Buffy and Xander chose that moment to come into the library,
Xander talking a blue streak about nothing in particular in a transparent
attempt to distract Buffy, who, judging by the far-off look on her face,
wasn't distracting.

"Any luck?" she came out of it enough to ask Giles.

"None to speak of," he answered quickly, putting his glasses back on as if
to hide any emotions he might be feeling. "Although I may have thought of a
new approach. If you will begin looking through the pile by Willow...."

He handed Xander a heavy volume before Xander could figure a way to wriggle
out of having to actually read, and Buffy began leafing through another
book by herself as Giles headed for the stacks. Not that it was going to do
much good; she was looking at the pages, but not really focusing. Willow
tried to think of words to comfort her friend, but what could she say?
'Gee, I'm sorry your boyfriend turned out to be a vampire?'

She pulled a Giles and buried herself in her research, instead.

*****

"Here's something at last," Giles announced barely half an hour later.
Willow restrained a giggle as Xander jumped in surprise; at least the guys
were scaring each other now, instead of her and Buffy.

"Can you please warn us before you do that?" Xander asked the Watcher edgily.

Giles ignored him. "There's nothing about Angel in the texts, but it
suddenly occured to me that it's been ages since I read the diaries of any
of the Watchers before me."

"That must have been so embarrassing," Willow thought out loud, still
dwelling on the romance of it all. "When you thought he had read your
diary, but then it turned out he hadn't, but then he felt the same way..."
Her voice trailed off as she realized what she was saying and looked up
guiltily. Giles looked impatient, Xander looked... unhappy. "I'm
listening," she finished in a very small voice.

Giles went back to his book. "There's a mention some 200 years ago in
Ireland of Angelus, 'one with the angelic face'."

"They got that right," Buffy muttered.

Xander coughed, and everyone looked at him. "I'm not saying anyt
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: [e-mail] (Perri Smith)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Stranger (3/8)
Date: 12 Oct 1997 19:17:25 -0500 (CDT)

See disclaimer in part 1.

The Stranger (Part 3)
by Perri Smith
Copyright 1997

*****

Giles didn't allow the Slayerettes to attend Buffy's training sessions. He
claimed that the fewer of them that were around school after hours, the
less conspicuous they would be. Willow suspected that Giles just didn't
want them to see how easily Buffy could beat him up.

So Willow actually made it home in time for her own dinner, and realized
how long it had been since that happened when her parents both greeted her
appearance at the dinner table with looks of shock.

"Excuse me, miss, you look a lot like my daughter," Mr. Rosenberg teased.
"Except that it's been so long since I saw her, I'm not sure what she looks
like any more."

"Very funny, dad," Willow grinned sheepishly as she shoveled spaghetti onto
her plate. "I was here just last week."

"That recently?" her mom said with mock surprise. "And here you are again,
without Xander. I was beginning to think you two were joined at the hip."

Oh, I wish, Willow thought gloomily, keeping her smile on with an effort.
"I think his mom was ordering pizza tonight; he didn't want to miss it."

Her mom took salad and passed it on. "You know, honey," she said
thoughtfully, "Xander really has turned into a very good-looking young man,
and such a nice boy, too. Have the two of you ever thought of, I don't
know, going out? Or whatever they call it these days?"

Willow choked on a bite of garlic bread. "Um, no, Mom," she answered
truthfully. "We've never thought of that." *She* had, but that wasn't a we.
"We're just friends."

"Too bad," Mrs. Rosenberg sighed. "I think the two of you would be a cute
couple."

Willow blushed furiously and concentrated on wrapping spaghetti around her
fork in perfectly straight and even layers.  Her mom took the hint and let
the subject drop.

She'd been half-expecting a call from Buffy to emote over Angel, but after
the dishes had been done, her homework finished and all of her e-mail
answered, there was still no word from the Slayer. *Oh well,* she sighed
mentally. *I'm sure she'll tell me all about it tomorrow.*

*One of these days, I really need to have something to tell her.*

*****

Willow waited eagerly next to the curb until Buffy's mom dropped her off
the next morning. "So, what happened?" she started to ask, before taking in
the drained, exhausted look on Buffy's face. It was such a contrast to the
energetic, happy Slayer of the day before that Willow stopped dead in her
tracks, suddenly scared. "Buffy? What's wrong? What happened? Did The Three
show up again?"

"The Three?" Buffy smiled strangely, then started to chuckle, an odd, scary
laugh with absolutely no humor. "No, they didn't show up. There was...
another vampire problem, you could say."

"I could?" Willow was totally lost now. "Buffy, you look like you saw a
ghost. Did Angel do something? Did another vampire come after you? Tell me
what happened!"

Buffy's face twisted and for a second, Willow thought she was going to lose
it right then and there. Fortunately, Giles showed up before the Slayer
could start screaming and/or crying -- Willow wasn't quite sure which one
it would have been.

"Buffy, are you all right?" he asked, hurrying down the sidewalk towards
them. He looked even more nervous than usual, at least until he gave Buffy
a quick once-over and determined that, yes, she was all right, physically
at least. Willow still didn't know about the mental part.

"Why wouldn't Buffy be all right?" Xander asked from behind Willow, who was
too focused on Buffy to even jump. There was something very wrong here, she
was sure of it.

"I'm fine," Buffy told them unconvincingly. " I'm fine, I just... had a
really bad night."

"I imagine so," Giles said, not without sympathy. "Discovering Angel's true
nature must have been rather a bad shock, especially under... well, under
the circumstances. You're sure he didn't hurt you? A vampire in your house,
in your room...."

"He didn't hurt me!" Buffy sounded like she was saying it for about the
tenth time. "Honest, Giles, he just... fanged out, then bailed when I
started screaming, like I told you."

Willow was still stalled back at Giles' half of the conversation, seeing
her own dawning shock reflected on Xander's face. They must have heard that
wrong. Giles and Buffy couldn't possibly be talking about what she thought
they were talking about. "Angel... is a vampire?"

"Apparently so," Giles answered her absently. "Buffy, did he say anything,
do anything...?"

"No!" Buffy started walking  towards the front doors; wandering, actually,
as if in a daze. The Slayerettes trailed along beside and behind her. "I
told you, Giles, he just.... Oh, God, this isn't happening. "

"Angel's a vampire?"  Willow couldn't quite get past that part. Vampires
were Bad Things -- mean and vicious and scary. Angel was cool; he helped
*fight* vampires, and gave Buffy his jacket, and made Buffy's face light up
with happiness. He *couldn't* be a vampire, there was no way.

But Buffy's heart-broken face left no doubt. "I can't believe this is
happening," she repeated, going up the front steps towards the school. "One
minute, we were kissing, and the next minute.... Can a vampire ever be a
good person?" she suddenly demanded, whirling on Giles. "Couldn't it
happen?"

Giles looked taken aback. "A vampire isn't a person at all," he stuttered
slightly. "It may have the movements, the memories, even the personality of
the person it possessed, but it's still a demon at the core. There is no
halfway."

Willow mentally deciphered his sentance. "So, that'd be a no, huh?" she
concluded unhappily.

"Well, then, what was he doing? Why was he good to me?" Buffy asked no one
in particular, sinking to one of the stone benches outside the school as if
she didn't trust her knees to hold her up any more. "Was it all some part
of the Master's plan? It doesn't make sense."

She was looking to Giles for answers, like always, but it was Xander who
carefully lowered himself to the bench next to her. "All right," he said,
very deliberately, "you have a problem and it's not a small one. Let's take
a breath, and look at this calmly and objectively.  Angel's a vampire.
You're the Slayer. I think it's obvious what you have to do."

At that moment, Willow wanted, more than she'd ever wanted anything in her
life, to hit Xander. He'd recovered from the shock, all right, and jumped
right in with both feet in his mouth to try to get rid of his 'rival'.

But he didn't know Buffy's feelings, Willow instantly corrected herself,
with a surge of guilt. He couldn't know. And Xander *really* hated
vampires, ever since Jesse.... So he couldn't know what he was saying, he
was just being... practical. Logical.

Right.

Xander looked up at Giles for confirmation; both of the girls looked up to
him begging for a denial. Giles couldn't quite look Buffy in the eyes. "It
is a Slayer's duty," he confirmed reluctantly.

"I mean, I know you have feelings for this guy," Xander rushed on, "but
it's not like you're in love with him, right?"

Willow didn't have to hit him this time; Buffy's face said it all. Even
Xander, who'd been trying really, really hard to pretend Buffy's
fascination with Angel was a passing, unsignificant thing, couldn't miss
the deep, tragic emotions written in her eyes. "You're in love with a
vampire?" he demanded loudly. "What, are you out of your mind?"

Just a little bit too loudly, as it turned out. "What?"

They swung, more or less in unison, to see Cordelia staring down at them
with wide, traumatically shocked eyes. Xander gaped, then tried desperately
to cover. "Not vampire," he fumbled, looking back at Buffy. "How could you
love an umpire? Everyone hates them!"

Willow winced, sure the game was up; even Cordelia wasn't going to believe
anything that lame. Fortunately, Cordelia was now staring past them, with
other things on her mind. "Where did you get that dress?" she demanded of a
girl walking across the lawn, wearing the ehing," he
said defensively. "I have nothing to say."

Giles shook his head and got back to business. "Does, ah,  Angel have a
tattoo behind his right shoulder?"

Buffy frowned thoughtfully. "Yeah, it's a bird or something."

"*Now* I'm saying something," Xander blurted. "You saw him naked?"

Everyone ignored him this time. Willow could have told him how Buffy had
bandaged Angel's ribs after he'd been injured (since she'd been told the
story in repeated, moment-by-moment playback), but it was more fun to let
him stew.

"So Angel's been around for a while," she said instead.

Giles considered. "Not long for a vampire; 240 years or so."

"240." Buffy shook her head ruefully. "Well, he said he was older."

"Angelus leaves Ireland," Giles continued as he sat down, having apparently
decided to ignore all side comments, "and wreaks havok in Europe for, well,
several decades. Then, about eighty years ago, a most curious thing
happens."

Giles paged ahead in the diary, searching for something. When he found it,
he continued, "He comes to America, shuns other vampires, and lives alone.
There's... no record of him hunting here." And Giles sounded really puzzled
by that.

"So, he *is* a good vampire," Willow blurted, unable to stop herself. Buffy
looked so unhappy, any hope was a Good Thing. "I mean, on a scale of one to
ten, with ten being someone one's maiming and killing, and one being
someone who's, um--" Words failed her. "--not."

"As I said, there's no record," Giles confirmed dubiously. "But vampires
hunt and kill; it's what they do."

"Fish gotta swim, birds gotta fly," Xander said.

"He could have fed on me," Buffy pointed out. "He didn't."

"Question," Xander said grimly. Willow would have been proud of his
concentration and clear thinking if she hadn't been so very suspicious of
his motives. "A hundred years or so before he came to our shores -- what
was he like then?"

Giles took his glasses back off, as if to make it easier to look Buffy in
the eyes. "Well, like all of them. A vicious, violent animal."

Buffy swallowed, her eyes wide and haunted. Willow bit her lip, fighting
back her own sinking heart. Those words didn't seem to apply to Angel,
didn't fit with what she'd seen in his dark, lonely eyes. Vicious? Animal?
It just felt so *wrong*.


Perri <[e-mail]>      I *am* the Buffy Evangalist!
NatPacker-*-Horsechick-*-Pretender-*-Cohenhead-*-DDEB2-*-AGA-*-SunS-*-CoJ
"I'm putting a collar with a little bell on that guy." -- Xander




xact same tank dress Cordelia
had on. "This is a one-of-a-kind Todd Oldham. Do you know how much this
dress cost?" She left the Slayerettes without a backwards glance to catch
up to and attack the girl who dared to have the same taste in clothing as
the diva of Sunnydale High.

As Cordelia's harangue trailed off into the distance, Buffy tried to smile.
"Think we have problems," she said wryly.

"Well, in point of fact, we do," Giles reminded her carefully. "We'll need
to find out whatever we can about Angel. Just in case."

"He wouldn't hurt her, would he?" Willow protested instinctively. "I mean,
he hasn't before, like Buffy said, right?"

"We can't take the chance," Giles said. "Whatever he is and whatever his
motives, Angel knows far too much about Buffy; we must attempt to even that
score." Homeroom bell rang even as he spoke; he looked at his watch and
sighed. "I'll need all of you in the library at lunch; I'll do what I can
until then. You had better get to class."

They got up reluctantly, no one particularly enthusiastic about sitting
through classes when they were having a (much more interesting) crisis.
Giles headed for the library, and Xander and Willow flanked Buffy as they
walked to homeroom, lending her as much moral support as they could.




Perri <[e-mail]>      I *am* the Buffy Evangalist!
NatPacker-*-Horsechick-*-Pretender-*-Cohenhead-*-DDEB2-*-AGA-*-SunS-*-CoJ
"I'm putting a collar with a little bell on that guy." -- Xander





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

From: sah <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: ADMIN:  List rules
Date: 13 Oct 1997 09:49:47 -0400

Welcome!  This list is for fiction related to "Buffy The Vampire
Slayer," both the TV series and the movie.  To ensure that we all get
to enjoy as much fiction as possible, please adhere to the following
guidelines, and please save them for future reference.

1. Fiction should have Buffy characters in it and clearly be related
to Buffy.  Crossovers are great, and expected, but general
vampire/monster stories that aren't in the Buffy universe and don't
use Buffy characters belong somewhere else.

2. Discussion of posted fiction is permitted onlist.  Please put
"DISCUSS" in your subject line.  Requests for missing story parts
should go directly to the author, and not be posted to the list.

Discussion that is not related directly to the fiction should go over
to the general Buffy list.  Discussion of fiction is expected to
follow common netiquette guidelines and use PG-13 language.

3. No advertising of <any> items or services, Buffy related or not,
and no posting of non-story items such as .gifs, sound files, etc..
No attached files of <any> kind-- if your mailer makes your fiction
into attached files, you need to find another way to get it to the list.

4. If you're writing a story and including advance information on a
new episode, and you're posting your story earlier than the national
viewing time, please:

     **Mark the post as a "spoiler" in the subject header.
     **Leave about twelve lines (blank or with non-spoiler info) at
          the top of the post.

This ensures that anyone who doesn't like knowing about an episode
ahead of time is "protected."  :)   The blank space is for people whose
mailers automatically open up the next piece of mail, without giving
them a chance to see "spoiler" in the header.

Spoiler warnings are not necessary after the start of the episode's
national viewing time, which is currently set at 9 p.m. Mondays,
Eastern Standard Time.  Spoiler warnings are not necessary for reruns.

5.  This list is absolutely NOT for erotic fiction.  <Nothing> stronger
than sexually PG-13 material is to be posted to the list under any
circumstances.  A story may be R rated for violence or language, however.

If you have a question about something's suitability for posting, feel
free to ask one of the listowners.  Sending sexually explicit material
will get you immediately and permanently uns*bscribed.  No exceptions.

6.  By subscribing and/or posting to this list, you acknowledge that
Buffy the Vampire slayer and all characters associated with either
the televised series or the motion picture were created by Josh Whedon
and are owned by Mutant Enemy productions, Kuzui Productions,
Sandollar Productions, and 20th Century Fox.  All stories posted to
this list are for entertainment purposes only, are not sold for profit
of any kind, and are not intended to infringe on any copyrights.

7.  When posting stories to the list, please follow the following
formatting guidelines
--No story parts longer than 250 lines
--No lines longer than 75 characters
--Turn off your "smart quotes"-- many readers receive these as garbage
or weird symbols
--Put the title of the story in the subject header, indicate if it's a
multipart story, and if so what part this is.  Example:   Buffy Meets
Godzilla (2/65) indicates that this post is part two of a 65 part story.

8. If a story is rated "R" for language/violence, indicate this in an
introduction.  For example, "There's a really bloody fight scene at
the end of this part" or "if you don't like dismemberment, stop
reading now!"  If there's <any> chance that someone might be disturbed
by something in your story (even if it's not rated R) please include
some kind of warning up front.

9.  And last, but not least, the listowners reserve the right to deny
subscription (new, renewed, or continued) to the list for any
individual(s).

PLEASE NOTE:  not following any or all of these rules will get you
the following:

**First offense:  offender is uns*bscribed for one week.
**Second offense:  offender is uns*bscribed to the Buffyfic list for a
minimum of three months.
**If the offender returns and does it again, they're offlist
permanently.

As noted above, posting sexually explicit material is the exception --
you go straight to permanent unsubbing.

Again, welcome!  If  you have any questions about these rules, please
contact either one of us offlist.  If you have subscription problems or
questions, the fastest way to get h*lp is to e-mail one of us at the
addresses below, <not> at the [e-mail] addy which is the
"official" e-mail owner of the list.

Jill Kirby ([e-mail])
 &
Sharon Himmanen ([e-mail])
Listowners, Buffy the Vampire Slayer Fiction List
[e-mail]




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

From: [e-mail] (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (1/6)
Date: 13 Oct 1997 19:17:02, -0500

Author's Notes:

        Due to popular demand (and a mental breakdown on my part) here's
the Ms. Calendar version of "Prophecy Girl", with extra dialogue and
scenes we didn't see onscreen--including what happened at Spring Fling.
As per usual, I'm not making money off this, the characters and Sunnydale
belong to Joss Whedon the Insane, 20th Century Fox, Mutant Enemy, Sandstar,
Warner Bros., and this is intended in the purest spirit of admiration to
the show.

TYK's to Cath for making me think about another story until this one
untangled itself, Perri & Dianne & Lizbet for beta'ing, and Perri for the
opening idea. I can never write 'til I can find the first line.... and one
last thank-you-kindly to the Sunnydale Slayers, who saw it first.

        Comments desired, wanted, needed, at [e-mail]

"Shadow of an Apocalypse"
by Christina Kamnikar
copyright 1997

        The e-mail sat there and glared at me.

  > Subject: Prophecy's fulfillment
  >    Date: Thurs, 14 May 1997 05:37:00 -9:00 (PST)
  >      To: List (see attached)
  >    From: Brother Luca <[e-mail]>
  >
  > Time is speeding. The Chosen One must be warned; the Anointed One is
  > already preparing Himself. All signs indicate that Aurelius's Doom
  > has already come to pass, and we are all in danger!
  >
  > Perhaps all we can do is ready ourselves for the inevitable.... If
  > anyone has news of the fulfillment of this prediction, any tidings at
  > all, please inform as soon as possible.
  >
  > Yours in hope,
  >
  > Brother Luca
  > Abbey of St. Anselmo
  > Cortona, Italia
  > [e-mail]

        "Cheerful." Sunlight shone into my bedroom, illuminating the books
that had spilled onto the floor during the previous night's earthquake,
and the stain next to my bedstand that came from keeping a cup of coffee
there, ready to mainline two seconds after I wake up.  I made a face at
the computer screen, wishing I could laugh at the e-mail that Cameo had
forwarded to me (as had five other people) before she left town. But it was
only the capper on what had been a steadily growing string of not-so-subtle
hints from the Beyond. Sunnydale was heading for another catastrophic
spiritual car wreck, and I was stuck dealing with it alone. Again.

        Cami had taken off for the Mojave the night before, along with
several of my other fellow local Pagans. The coming weekend was supposed to
be a pretty significant astronomical convergence, and they'd wanted a good
view of the proceedings from out in the desert.

        I'd have loved to have gone with them, but I'd gotten roped into
agreeing to chaperone the high school Spring Fling because I hadn't
ducked out of the Teachers' Lounge fast enough. "Ms. Calendar. I believe
you have yet to act as an Student Event Supporting Participant this
year," had been Principal Snyder's exact words, and while I was busy
going "hunh?" he'd grinned sadistically and clarified, "Chaperone. Be
sure to wear something appropriate to the upcoming dance, won't you?
You don't have to provide your own escort, of course.  I'm sure Coach
Galway will be happy to accompany you, since he is going to act as your
partner," then breezed out before I could do more than gape at him, too
stunned to find a comeback that wouldn't get me fired. //The day I
attend a dance with Galway the Insane is the day I sign up for the
Psychic Friends Network! Or better yet, go to work for them!//

        So instead of camping in the clean air and quiet, I was going to
have to face hordes of teenage pretensions and hormones, not to mention a
possible Apocalypse. On the same night. //Then again, it's not like there's

much difference between your average Prom and the end of the world as we
know it....//

        Reams of information, weird happenings, vague warnings, and I still
didn't know *what* to expect, though. It was going to happen soon, maybe
even within the next few days---but what was it? What kind of Armageddon
was the world facing? And what could I possibly do about it?

        I stuck out my tongue at Henry V, then groaned, knowing what was
coming next and dreading it. //Time to bite the bullet, Nikki. You've been
putting it off long enough. You don't have any more options. If you want
to know what's going on...//

        I was going to have to corner Snobby and try to get him to share
info.

        It would be like pulling teeth. Worse. Pulling a secured file from
the I.R.S. databanks would be easier than getting the truth out of Rupert
Giles, close-mouthed Brit librarian and weirdness expert. He'd try to avoid

the questions, I'd try to pin him down, we'd get into an argument, insults
would be hurled, and I *still* might not know any more than I had to
begin with. I cursed under my breath, pulling on my work clothes and
gathering together my files with a bad attitude toward the day already.

        The attitude didn't get any better when I realized I was putting on
lipstick at the stoplight.

        Some women wear makeup to conceal flaws, or exploit assets; some
wear it to turn themselves into strangers.  But when I wear makeup---and I
mean more than the bare minimum, because eyeliner and mascara and lipstick
don't come naturally to me---it's warpaint. Going into a situation where I
want some armor, or to at least know that I look my most fabulous even if
I'm screwing up, I pull out the blush and the pencils.  When I'm feeling
especially edgy I start putting on lipstick before I even know what I'm
doing. Early conditioning is a pain, sometimes.

        He shouldn't be able to do this to me.

        You would think---if life were simple, and logical---that after
sharing an uncommonly weird experience such as exorcising a demonic entity
from cyberspace, that two people would become friends. Bond, or something.

It wasn't as if Rupert and I couldn't be civil, given a chance. We'd even
run interference for each other a couple times since the Moloch incident,
especially when Snyder had been on the warpath about some new brilliant bit

of administrivia.

        But I still hadn't gotten a decent explanation out of Rupert about
the source of his arcane knowledge. In fact, he'd avoided discussing
anything slightly paranormal with me with the same determination that he
avoided learning more than was absolutely required about the computers in
the library.  Which didn't mean we hadn't had a couple of
knock-down-drag-out arguments about various interpretations of the rules of

magic, paganism, and the uses of computers.  Rupert Giles is no more of a
pushover than I am, despite the stutter and that bone-deep politeness.

        Maybe that's why I respect him. And why being deliberately shut out
of something that meant as much to him as it did to me hurt a little bit.
The man had some direct pipeline to occult answers and he had no intention
of sharing it.  I *knew* that another bizarre incident had happened two
weeks before---the nightmares I had for three days straight _couldn't_ have
been ordinary, and more than one of my friends had the same kinds of
nocturnal terrors at that time. I could feel in my gut that Rupert knew
what the cause was; but when I called him on it later, he refused to
discuss it. Refused, as in "leave it alone, you're better off not knowing,
Calendar" a statement which made me furious at his presumption and sparked
a frigid silence between us broken only by chilly exchanges of courtesy.

        It was time to set all that aside, though. Holding a grudge while
the end of the world was approaching could only be classified as
major-league suicidal idiocy, at least if I wanted to do anything to
prevent it.

        The first chance I had, I headed for Rupert's private sanctuary,
hoping to beard the librarian in his den.  The library was a wreck after
the earthquake, with shelves collapsed against each other, books
everywhere, and major cracks climbing up the walls and threading across the
floor.  //Poor Snobby. His first earthquake in California, and it has to be
a 5.5 with an epicenter in Sunnydale....//

        Rupert was on phone when I walked in, looking as wrecked as his
surroundings. The usually meticulous Brit had loosened his tie, unbuttoned
and rolled up his sleeves, opened his shirt neck, and his hair was standing
on end; he was rumpled, crumpled, spindled, folded... and tired, if I was
any judge. Possibly even scared? The last quality kept me from knocking on
the door and warning him that I was there, as I took a second just to study
him while he held an intense conversation on the phone, oblivious to my
presence.

        "I-I need to see you... No, I realize that... Come after sundown.
Good.... I'll see you then." Giles hung up the phone with a click, then
just sat there, utterly still, his face drawn with weariness while I tried
to guess what could make him look that unhappy and tense. The last time it
had been that bad... I pushed memories of Moloch away and spoke up, causing
Rupert to jolt with alarm even though I kept my voice level and
non-threatening.

        "You know, that outfit looks just like the one you wore
yesterday. Only wrinklier. Were you here all night?" I asked, sounding more
concerned than I'd meant to.

        "Sorry, uh... I'm not really up to socializing just now." The
abruptness of his statement was backed up by the rough edge to his
accent---but I couldn't give him a break because of one night's lack of
sleep.

        "Something's going on, Rupert, and I'm guessing you already know
what it is." I walked into his private office and he stood up, his body
language becoming even more guarded and wary than before.

        "What do you know?" From his taut expression, Snobby hadn't
believed for an instant that I was talking about school business, or one of
the students, or life in general. //At least we're skipping the denial part
of this discussion... That's encouraging.//

        "Well, I have been surfing the Net, looking for unexplained
incidences. You know people are always sending stuff my way, they know the
occult's my turf. Here is the latest." I sorted through the folders of
clippings and print-outs I'd brought along, then cleared my throat and
started reading articles at random. Rupert paced around the office, head
down, avoiding my eyes.

        "A cat last week gave birth to a litter of snakes." The Brit
continued to pace, not reacting with either the fear or denial that would
have been any other person's response. His face showed no change from the
pinched weariness I'd come in on. "A family was swimming in Whisper Lake
when the lake began to boil. And Mercy Hospital last night, a boy was born
with his eyes facing inward." I put the file down, and kept my voice steady
and low with an effort. "I'm not stupid. This is Apocalypse stuff. Throw in
last night's earthquake and I'd say the end is pretty seriously nigh."

        "I don't know if I can trust you." Doubt and hope seemed to be
having it out in Rupert's mind, and I couldn't tell which one was going to
win. So I pushed, not willing to be brushed aside like I'd been two weeks
before. And not willing to leave Snobby alone in another situation like
Moloch's return, no matter what.

        "I helped you cast that demon out of the Internet. I'd think that
merits *some* trust." Giles nodded apologetically to me, his eyes
reflecting tired agreement behind his glasses. "Look, I'm scared, okay?
Plus, I've got this crazy monk emailing me from Cortona about some Anointed
One---"

        "The Anointed One?" His voice rose with the first shock he'd shown
since I walked in. "He's dead!"

        "Someone's dead?"

        Rupert took off his glasses, obviously impatient, wrinkling his
brow as if he had a headache. "Who is this monk?"

        "A Brother Luca... something? Keeps sending out global mailings
about a prophecy---" //Not good. This is not good. What's going on---//

        "I need you to talk to him, find out all he knows---" Giles was
finally focusing on the here-and-now, but that wasn't any help when I had
no idea why.

        "Look Rupert, you haven't told me jack, so what's with the orders?"

        "Just do it!" I'd forgotten how scary Snobby could be when he got
intense; the whip-edge to his voice softened from an urgent command to
apology as his eyes pleaded.  "I'll... explain, later."

        "You'd better," I said grimly. //I'll cut you some slack for now...
but I'm not letting you off the hook indefinitely.// I gathered my folders
together and stalked out of the library before I could say something
regrettable. //Find Brother Luca, get some answers from him, give 'em to
Snobby, and I'll finally find out what's up. It better be worth it....//
Of course, if it wasn't worth it, then maybe there wouldn't be an
Apocalypse. Maybe the worst I'd have to deal with on Saturday night would
be avoiding Coach Galway and being bored out of my mind at the Spring
Fling. //Right, Nikki. You should be so lucky.//

*

Comments to [e-mail]         Christina       }|{



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

From: [e-mail] (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (2/6)
Date: 13 Oct 1997 19:22:10, -0500

For disclaimers, see Part 1.  Comments appreciated at [e-mail]

"Shadow of an Apocalypse" (2/6)
by Christina Kamnikar
Copyright 1997

        Four A.M.

        I was still wide awake. I didn't want to sleep. But the later I
stayed up, the more I wished I'd gone with Cami to the Mojave.

        What was I trying to prove, anyway?

        The Net was quiet--- ominously, so, after weeks of warnings and
intensifying strangeness.  I hadn't been able to track down Brother Luca
yet, either.  What time was it in Italy; around noon? Another hour, maybe,
and then I'd go to bed. That would give the good brother enough time to get
done with lunch, or compline, or whatever, and answer my queries.

        _If_ he answered them.

        I stared at Henry V blankly as I automatically surfed from site to
site, not really registering the places I was visiting, preoccupied with
the possibilities that Rupert had staunchly refused to  clear up.  Why
couldn't he have been more specific? Why wouldn't he just *tell* me what
was going on? Okay, I knew the answer to that one, he'd come right out and
said it: he didn't entirely trust me.  Which was unfair. // Did he think
I'd share the news of what was coming with CNN? He should know better. He
should know by now that I take the supernatural as seriously as he does. He
should know I wouldn't do anything reckless or stupid.//

        It was quiet, except for Henry's hum as he did another search on
the phrase "Anointed One"; dark in my bedroom, except for the tensor lamp
above the printer and the moonlight leaking through the window.  I sipped
my cup of cooling coffee and finally admitted my worst fear: that nothing
_could_ be done, that Rupert was trying to shield me or to give me
something to keep me occupied and sane while our time ran out.

        I didn't really believe that, though. Giles's desperation when I
mentioned the prophecy to him had been too real, his focus too narrow for
him to have been concocting a wild goose chase for my sake.  Which still
didn't mean I could help. Or that Rupert could do anthing about it either,
even if I finally got the information he wanted.

        //Maybe there's nothing either of us - any of us - can do.// The
prophecies coming over the lines for the last few days had been so
doom-laden and vague--- //Face it, we could all be dead, or worse, before
you have a clue why.//  Horrible thought. I tried to push it away, but it
kept coming back, like the nightmares from two weeks before.

        I believe in Powers that a lot of people laugh at or fear without
reason.  I know that the Divine is real, and present, because I can feel it
inside of me, and sometimes see it in cyberspace, on sites set up for
freedom of speech, or to aid the public, or in the way people reach out to
strangers, welcoming them into a new world.  But I'm not psychic or gifted
with any extraordinary powers, and I don't have access to the kind of
knowledge that can be used to fight avatars of the Dark on their own terms.
 What did I think I could accomplish, searching the Net for something I
might not recognize if I found it?

        The digital clock on my bedstand read 5:24 AM.  Nothing had arrived
from Brother Luca. Sunlight was trying to filter its way through my blinds.

        Have you ever stayed up to see the sun rise, just to be sure that
it would? It was like that.... I still didn't have any answers. But for no
rational reason, the despair I'd been fighting lightened enough to let me
crawl under the covers and set the alarm for six hours.  Hopefully, mail
from the mad monk would be waiting for me when I regained consciousness.
Then I could confront Snobby with the Wicked Witch's broom he'd sent me off
to find; and he'd have to tell me the truth.

        If there was no way to avert the end, I wanted to know about it.
There were a lot of things I wanted to do before I died.  But if there was
a way--- it might be a losing fight, but I'd prefer to go down battling.

        Might as well die doing something I loved.

        >       <       >       <       >       @

        The buzzer sounded on my alarm clock, jarring me awake with a
curse. My head ached. I stumbled over to the computer and checked my e-mail
two seconds later.

        Nothing.

        Okay, it wasn't nothing. There was an ad from hottgirls.com,
inviting me to tour their website of male and female hard bodies; two notes
from friends who'd just discovered the web and wanted to tell me how much
fun they were having; and various articles forwarded to me from around the
globe, confirming that yes, the end was getting too close for comfort. But
nothing from Brother Luca.

        Disappointed didn't cover it; I was starting to get panicky.
//Hate waiting, hate feeling helpless, useless....// Ruthlessly, I sat on
the anxiety clawing at my insides and forced myself to do normal things:
eat lunch, take a shower, get dressed in "appropriate" chaperone attire for
the evening's Spring Fling.  Until I knew otherwise, life was going on, and
I couldn't ignore it yet.

        Feeling human, although still far too keyed-up,  I spent the
afternoon e-mailing and searching, hoping for some electronic crumb of
information about Brother Luca. All the indications were that he'd
disappeared from the Net, and the outer world too; no one knew where he
was. Not his account administrator, not his abbey, not even the Papal
Legate's office.

        Finally, around five or so, one last global post from him dropped
into my mailbox, from a public access terminal in Rome.

        TO:     List (see attached)
      FROM:     Brother Luca ([e-mail]@rome.IT)
      DATE:     Saturday, May 17, 1997 23:59:32:00 (-9)
        RE:     Prophecy Context

       > To all who hope: Isaiah 11:6. The time is now.
       >
       > God help and bless the Chosen One.  Pray this is enough.
       >
       > Yours in the Light
       >
       > Brother Luca


        Grinning in relief, I dialed Rupert's home number, sure he would be
poring over his "volumes" in search of what Brother Luca had shared with me
on-line.  I hastily yanked down my copy of the King James Bible while the
phone rang in my ear, flipping through to look up the pertinent quote.
//Hmmmmm... out of context, I'd say that sounds even odder than usual...//

        "Giles here," sounded abruptly in my ear as I fumbled with the
receiver. Rupert seemed more stressed than the day before, and I again
wondered how he was sleeping lately.

        "Rupert? It's me. I'm coming over there, I found something I have
to show you---"

        "Ms. Calender, have you seen the news?" Stressed wasn't the right
word, really; Snobby sounded grim, which stopped my babbling and made my
stomach tighten in anticipation before I even processed his words.

        "Um, no, should I have?"

        "You might want to sit down...."

        "Tell me." My throat had gone dry at those words; it was too much
like he'd sounded when he'd told me that Dave was dead, strangled and
hanged on Moloch's orders.

        This was worse.

        "Four students were found dead in the school's A/V room this
morning.  I'm afraid Willow---"

        "_No_!" //No, not again, not Willow---//

        "No, no, I meant---forgive me. Willow is fine, fine." He sighed,
bleakness seeping into his voice as he went on. "As fine as anyone can be,
who just found the exsanguinated corpses of her classmates a few hours ago.
She and Cordelia Chase were the first on the scene, and it was---
disturbing, especially for someone of Willow's sensitivity. And Cordelia
evidently knew one of the boys well...."

        "Oh my Goddess." //Four...// "We have to *do* something! We have to
stop this, somehow, there has to be---"

        "I quite agree." The quiet rage in his voice echoed the sick, angry
plunge my stomach took when he imparted the news. He gave me a minute to
recover, then continued. "The police left half an hour ago. I'm afraid
there's rather a lot I must do... and, well... very little time.  I may
need... 'backup', I believe you Americans call it?" The desperation was
back in his voice, along with the pleading. "Could you meet me? At the
library? Soon?"

        "I'm there. See you in twenty." I hung up the phone before he could
say anything else, overwhelmed. And furious.

        //Not without a fight...// Whatever it was, whoever was pushing for
the Apocalypse, was not going to get it without a fight.

*

Christina   [e-mail]



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

From: [e-mail] (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (4/6)
Date: 13 Oct 1997 19:21:03, -0500

For disclaimers, see part 1. Comments hoped for! at [e-mail]

"Shadow of an Apocalypse" (4/6)
by Christina Kamnikar
copyright 1997


        Giles was still out cold when the phone rang. I dithered for a
second, then answered it, trying to put a smile in my voice, hoping it
wasn't another crisis. //Please, let it be someone trying to renew a
book...// "Sunnydale Library."

        "Miss Calender?" It was a teenage voice, a familiar one I couldn't
put a face to, sounding surprised.

        I frowned. "Yes, this is Miss Calender. Who is this?"

        "Uhhh... this is Xander Harris." I blinked, then placed him
finally---Willow and Buffy's friend, the one who had been involved during
the Moloch nightmare. //How much do you know, kid?// I wondered. "I was
looking for Mr. Giles? Could I talk to him?"

        "Not at the moment, Xander. He's sort of..." I looked down at
Rupert, who was murmuring and starting to come around, and I kneeled next
to him, placing an icepack on his jaw as he blinked up at me. "Not feeling
well. Could I take a message?"

        "Not feeling well," the teen repeated, his voice getting tighter.
"But he's alive, right?"

        //That answers *that* question.// "He's just a little indisposed.
He's fine, really---"

        "Is Buffy there?" Xander demanded, increasing my discomfort with
the situation.

        "Noooo," I said slowly, supporting Snobby as he struggled into a
sitting position. He groaned in pain, looking around for his glasses, and I
hissed at him, "Lie back down, Rupert. You're going to hurt yourself---"

        "Listen, I called because Willow was really worried about Buffy,"
Xander was saying, sounding like someone trying to remain calm when he
wants to yell. "She came over to see Will after she saw the evening news,
and she was acting funny. Something's going on, isn't it? Something big?"

        "I can't tell you that---"

        "What do you mean, you can't tell me? Let me talk to Giles," he
demanded, and then Snobby snaked the receiver out of my grasp.

        "I'm perfectly fine, Xander," he said wearily, leaning back against
the book returns cabinet. "Buffy? Ermm... No, no, you shouldn't come
here... Xander, no, I don't want--- damn." He glared at the phone, then
hung it up. "Damn the boy. I didn't want them involved," Rupert snarled at
me, then closed his eyes in pain.

        "I guessed that. Hang on to me, I'll get you to the chair. And put
this on your jaw, I think it's already starting to swell." I half-dragged,
half-supported him as he staggered over to one of the chairs, then let him
collapse for a few seconds. "They know everything, don't they? Xander and
Willow?"

        Rupert blinked fuzzily, sighed and mumbled, "Yes. Since Buffy first
arrived. She saved them from a rather ugly situation her first week here."

        "Oh, great." I crossed my arms and glared at him. "How are we going
to protect them if they show up? They should stay home---"

        "Which is why I didn't want them to know about this... I'm afraid
we won't be able to. Xander is headstrong enough to insist on a course of
action that could put him in danger, and Willow may refuse to be left
behind, no matter how much she may wish to hide." Giles looked older and
tireder, his face open and defenseless without his lenses on, defeat
slumping his shoulders as he regarded me.  He readjusted the icepack,
stifling a groan. "If we all stay together here, we may be able to do
so...." His voice trailed off and his eyes looked distant and sad. Thinking
of Buffy, probably. "This wasn't supposed to happen," he murmured huskily.
"She's too young. Even for a Slayer, she's too young to die."

        "You tried," I whispered, knowing it wasn't any comfort. "She knew
what she was doing when she left..." I sat down next to him, suddenly
feeling exhausted. "She said," I cleared my throat. "'Make up something
cool, tell him I said it.' And that she was hoping to take him with her,
if...." I broke off, unwilling to say it.

        "Of course," Rupert responded, trying to be brisk, trying to smile.
Neither effort worked very well. I wanted to hold his hand, to tell him it
would be okay, but I couldn't. Even if we averted the apocalypse, Buffy
might not survive. And that would be one loss too many right there.

        That was how Xander and Willow found us a few minutes later.
"Giles! You got hurt!" were the first words out of her mouth, along with an
uncertain look at me. "Are you okay?"

        "Almost. Buffy pulled her punch," Giles said, avoiding both of
their eyes.

        "*Buffy* did this?" Xander looked aghast, then grim. "Awright.
Enough already. Spill it, Giles, what's going on? Why did those guys die in
the A/V room this morning?"

        "I wish I didn't have to tell you. You should have stayed out of
it. Both of you," Rupert said, looking pointedly at Willow, then at Xander,
raising his eyebrows. The boy just rolled his eyes and made a face behind
Willow's back. Clearly, there was no way Xander could have stopped her from
coming along, despite the shock she'd had that morning.

        "I'm not staying out of it." Willow's chin looked like it wanted to
quiver, but she crossed her arms stubbornly, her eyes remaining on the
librarian's face. "I need to know why... that happened, in the A/V room."

        "There is a prophecy," Rupert shifted in his chair, and closed his
eyes, "that the Master will be freed tonight. Buffy and I... disagreed
about something, yesterday. I wasn't certain that letting her face him
would be a good idea.  Therefore, I was preparing to go in search of him
this evening."

        "Are you *whacked*?" Xander asked, his voice rising dangerously. I
stared, totally unprepared for his response. Evidently, Buffy wasn't the
only one who felt comfortable treating Giles casually. "That's insane! He'd
kill you!"

        "Perhaps he would! But the prophecy also stated that if the Master
rose, the Slayer would most certainly die!" Snobby was reaching the end of
his tether, and then he pulled back abruptly, reasserting control over
himself as he saw Willow's white, stunned expression. "Which was why we...
disagreed." He closed his eyes again, pulling in on himself.

        "So, where _is_ she?"

        Giles wasn't looking at me, his eyes closed in pain, either
emotional or physical, but I knew that he wouldn't be able to say it. So I
told them, since someone had to. Keeping my voice steady, I said, "She went
to find the Master."

        Xander whirled around, shocked, his eyes wide. "She *what*?"

        "I _told_ you there was something going on with her...." Willow's
voice was sad and plaintive as she perched on the reading table.

        The other teen turned to Snobby, demanding, "And she knew about
this prophecy of yours?"  Rupert gave a short, pained nod, and Xander
groaned.  "Oh man, what do we do?"

        "We stay calm, firstly," Giles cautioned, adjusting the icebag on
his jaw.

        "Calm?!"

        "I think he's right." Willow was biting her lip, obviously scared
but trying not to make the situation any worse.

        Which equally obviously wasn't one of her friend's concerns. "I'm
sorry, calm may work for Locutus of the Borg here, but I'm freaked and I
intend to stay that way!" Xander snapped, pacing around the library table.
Rupert didn't react to the insult... possibly because he didn't understand
it, I realized. He was starting to come out of his funk, looking hurt and
confused but more aware now.

        "Xander...." Willow pleaded.

        He ignored her, turning back to the Brit, his expression full of
accusation. "How could you let her go?"

        "As the soon-to-be-purple area on my jaw will attest, I did not
*let* her go!" Rupert snapped back, but with more restraint than Xander
deserved, in my opinion.

        Willow, typically, didn't succumb to the atmosphere of growing
annoyance and pulled the conversation back on track.  "Well, how can we
help her?"

        "Ah, I'm sorry to bring this up, but we also have an apocalypse to
worry about..." I said, hoping we could start concentrating on what we
could do to avert the approaching catastrophes, instead of who was to blame
for the prophecy coming to pass.

        Xander glared at me with disbelief and irritation, and then drawled
out, "Do you mind?" I was still gaping at this put-down when Willow spoke
up.

        "How come *she's* in the club?" She asked Rupert, sounding confused
and defensive, which pricked my ego and then put _me_ on the defensive.
Evidently it wasn't enough for them that Rupert had clued me in; the wary,
distrustful looks I was getting gave me the impression that as far as
vampire-slaying was concerned, they thought of me as a newbie amateur,
while they were pros.   It didn't help that I was feeling left out, and
that both Xander and Willow seemed much more at ease with the situation
than I did. //They've had more time to get used to it---but damn, I wish I
was handling this better....//

        "Hey! Once the Hellmouth opens, the demons come to party, and
_everybody_ dies,"  I said sharply. I wasn't willing to give up yet, just
because Buffy had gone to face the Master.  There _had_ to be another way
around this, and maybe a way to save Buffy in the process---

        "I don't care," Xander stated in a flat voice. I stared at him
disbelievingly, anger rising as he unflinchingly met my eyes and then
repeated, "I'm sorry, I don't.  Right now I've got to help Buffy." The
certainty in his stance threw me, stopping me from putting forth any of the
obvious objections. Xander wasn't treating me as an adult, or a teacher,
and he wasn't acting like a kid.  The same eerily grown-up quality that
Buffy had was working through him too, and an expression of resolve that I
never could have imagined had settled on his face.

        //You're in love with Buffy,// I thought abruptly, glancing at
Willow's averted face. She knew, I realized. She knew how he felt about her
friend. //Xander, you're crazy, you can't go after her---// I didn't say
it. He didn't look crazy; he looked just a little bit scary, and I wondered
if this was something that had always been inside of him, or something he'd
learned through association with Buffy and Giles.

        "We don't even know where she's gone," Rupert protested, wincing
slightly.

        Xander's jaw hardened, and he turned and strode for the exit. "No,
but I can find out," he threw over his shoulder without looking back.

        "*What*?" I looked around at the other two, Willow watching Xander
leave with hurt, scared eyes, and Giles getting to his feet, his teeth
gritted in pain. "Aren't we going to stop him?"

        "How?" Rupert asked baldly, throwing the icebag down on the table,
letting out a breath of annoyance. "If he think he can help, perhaps he
can. Xander can be very clever when he's... motivated. In any event,
nothing short of cracking _him_ on the jaw will stop him now." He blinked
several times, then firmly put his glasses back on. "Enough. You're quite
right, Calender. We have to avert the opening of the Hellmouth. If we can
do that---and if Xander can buy us some time---"

        "Maybe all isn't lost?" I suggested softly.

        "Yes." He gave a tight nod, not meeting my eyes for a moment. "We
can, at least, give them a good showing. If the two of you are with me?"
Rupert glanced at Willow, who nodded shakily, then he smiled grimly at me.
"Let us proceed, then...."

*

Christina   [e-mail]

Comments?



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

From: [e-mail] (Perri Smith)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Stranger (5/8)
Date: 13 Oct 1997 18:39:19 -0500 (CDT)

See disclaimer in part 1.

The Stranger (Part 5)
by Perri Smith
Copyright 1997

*****

Still, vampires and moral dilemmas aside, life went on, and Buffy had a
history test in the next day to worry about -- especially since she'd cut
every history class for the last week. So she and Willow came back to the
library after dinner, and settled down to the business of forcing basic
information about the Civil War into Buffy's head.

Which was even more of a chore than usual. Buffy was still blanking out,
her problems with Angel looming much higher in her mind than any schoolwork
could. Willow sympathized, but kept trying. Buffy needed the distraction,
if nothing else.

Willow occasionally wondered how she'd become the de facto tutor for the
Slayerettes, but not often -- it was basically because she was the only one
who actually cared about the schoolwork. Xander cared about his grades, but
not enough to work up any enthusiasm about studying, and Buffy wasn't too
big on the whole school thing even when she wasn't distracted by Slaying.
Which left it to Willow to force feed them both enough knowledge to keep
them all from flunking out.

Now, sensing she'd once again lost Buffy's attention, she resorted to a pop
quiz. "Okay, so let's review. Reconstruction began when?"

No response. "Buffy?"

Buffy blinked and abruptly came back to the present. Unfortunately, the
present wasn't going to do her any good with history. "Um, reconstruction
began... after the.. construction, which was shoddy, so they had to
reconstruct."

No wonder she was failing history; she couldn't even bluff an answer.
"After the destruction of the Civil War," Willow corrected her gently.

"Right." Buffy nodded. "The Civil War. When Angel was already like, a
hundred and change."

Willow looked at her with an attempt at Giles' stern expression, the one
that never worked. "Are we going to talk about boys or are we going to keep
you from flunking history?"

Buffy's look spoke volumes, and Willow gave up. There were much more
interesting things to discuss than the Civil War, anyway. "Sometimes," she
confided, happily shoving the textbook aside and leaning forward, "I have
this fantasy that Xander's just going to grab me and kiss me, right on the
lips!"

Buffy smiled, finally distracted. "If you want Xander, you've got to speak
up, girl," she said for about the hundredth time.

The very thought was enough to make Willow's mouth go dry, and her head go
light. "Oh, no, no, no. No speaking up. That way leads to madness, and
sweaty palms."

Besides, she knew who Xander wanted, and it wasn't her. All speaking up
would do was cost her her oldest friend.

She changed the subject back to the one she'd been trying to avoid, feeling
just the slightest bit guilty about it. "Okay, so here's something I've got
to know. When Angel kissed you -- I mean, before he...." Her voice trailed
off significantly, and Buffy nodded. "How was it?"

Buffy tried to stay serious, but a silly smile spread across her face
anyway. "Unbelievable," she admitted.

"Wow," Willow breathed. If she couldn't have a life, she was more than
happy to live vicariously through Buffy's. And the very thought of being
*really* kissed, let alone by someone like Angel, was enough to make her
teeth tingle.

"And it *is* kind of novel how he'll stay young and good-looking forever,"
she thought out loud, barely hearing herself. "Although you'll still get
wrinkly and die, and oh, what about the children...?" She was frowning over
that idea when she looked up, saw Buffy's wry, amused smile, and realized
she was once again babbling, and not particularly sensitively. "I'll be
quiet now."

"No, it's okay," Buffy assured her with a heavy sigh. "I need to hear this.
I need to get over him so I can...."

Buffy couldn't even say it, Willow thought sympathetically, how could she
do it? "So that you can..." Actually, Willow couldn't say it either; she
settled for miming the staking motion, with her fuzzy-topped gnome pencil
as a prop.

Buffy winced, but nodded. "Like Xander said, I'm the Slayer, and he's a...
vampire.... God, I *can't*!" she suddenly exploded.  "He's never done
anything to hurt me...."

She broke off and visibly got control of herself, sitting up straight and
pulling her textbook closer. "Okay, I've got to stop thinking about this.
Let's give it another half hour and maybe something will sink in." Her
shoulders slumped again. "And then I'm going home for some major moping."

Willow wished again she could think of something wise and comforting to
say. She settled for smiling sympathetically yet again, and opening her
textbook back up to the study questions. She had no faith in Buffy's
ability to study tonight, but it was always worth a shot.

"The era of the Congressional Reconstruction, usually called...."

*****

Sure enough, nothing sunk in, although Buffy did give it an honest effort.
At the end of half-an-hour, both of them were more than ready to call it
quits.

"I'm sorry I wasted so much of your night, Will." Buffy looked more
depressed than when they'd started.

"It's okay," Willow assured her. "It's not like there are all these other
things I could be doing."

"Still...." Buffy slowly loaded her backpack up. "I guess I'd better get
home or Mom will start worrying. I'll walk you home first, though."

"Good. 'Cause I was going to ask you to." Willow made a face. "I'd just as
soon not have any solo encounters with vampires any time soon."

That had been badly phrased, she realized, as shadows flickered back across
Buffy's face. Before she could say anything to fix the damage, though,
Xander's voice called out, "Haven't you two had enough of the study thing
yet?"

"Xander?" They both turned around, and saw him leaning through the side
door, one of the key rings Giles had given all of them weeks before
dangling from his hand.

"What are you doing here?" Buffy scolded him, putting her backpack over her
shoulder. "It's after dark, you shouldn't be wandering around alone."

Xander looked wounded, an expression he did particularly well. It had
something to do with his soft, puppy dog brown eyes, Willow figured. "Here
I am, going out of my way to offer my services as an escort home, and all I
get is abuse. Whatever happened to gratitude?"

Willow and Buffy exchanged looks; they all knew if anyone was going to be
offering protection on the way home, it was going to be Buffy, not Xander.
But there was no real point in further destroying his ego.

"Thank you, Xander," they chorused sweetly instead, each girl taking one of
his arms. "We'll feel much safer with you around," Willow added
ingenuously.

Xander heard the sarcasm, judging from his quick look down at her, but
apparently decided to ignore it. "That's much better," he approved instead.
"Aren't you glad you've got me around?"

That one was much too easy, not even worth an insult, so they didn't bother.

Giles had left school at something close to a normal time, for once; the
trio locked the side door behind them and headed for home. Seeing Buffy's
state of exhaustion, Willow signaled to Xander that they should drop her
off first. He looked unhappy about it -- probably hoping to get rid of
Willow and have some time alone with Buffy -- but gave in after a sharp
glare and sharper poke in the ribs. Both of which were probably a bit
sharper than they needed to be, but Willow was feeling hostile tonight.

It was a sign of how tired she was that Buffy not only didn't notice Willow
and Xander's by-play, but also didn't protest when they walked her to her
front door. She simple gave them an off-hand, "Night, guys," and headed
inside.

"Nice to feel appreciated," Xander said, staring at the closed door.

"You know she appreciates you," Willow soothed his wounded pride, taking
his arm to tug him away from the door and back down towards the sidewalk.
"She's just distracted, and tired. You'll see, she'll be much happier to
see us in the morning, after she's gotten some sleep."

"Yeah, if she doesn't have nightmares about that Angel guy." Xander frowned
back at Buffy's house over his shoulder. "I don't get him. Why mess around
with Buffy's head like that? I mean, what kind of sicko is he?"

"Maybe he's not a sicko," Willow defended Angel. "We don't enough about him
to know *what* he was doing."

"We know enough," Xander told her flatly. "He's a vampire, a killer. How
can you still defend him after what Giles told us?"

"Maybe because I'm not half-insane from jealousy."

Willow hadn't really meant for Xander to hear her mutter - not *really* --
but he did anyway. "Oh, so now *I'm* the crazy one? You're trying to make a
vampire into a good guy and *I'm* nuts? Or are you just as gone on him as
Buffy is?"

"No!" Willow protested automatically as they turned the corner at the end
of Buffy's street. It was true, she wasn't 'gone' on Angel -- even if she
hadn't been so in love with Xander, Angel was way out of Willow's league,
and she knew it. But the accusation hurt. "I just think everyone's jumping
to conclusions and it's not fair."

"Willow--"

She didn't know what he was about to say, and never would. Before he could
finish his sentence, a crash of shattering glass came from the block they'd
just turned off of. There'd been a time when they would have assumed it was
something innocent, and gone on their way. Now, they turned as one and
raced back towards Buffy's house.

The glass turned out to have been Buffy's front window, which now lay in
shards all over the sidewalk, as if something had exploded through it. But
Buffy's pleading voice was coming from the back, so they didn't stop to
investigate.

The back door was standing open, the lock splintered. They skidded over the
threshold, Xander calling Buffy's name -- and stopped cold, taking in the
scene before them. Buffy knelt next to her mother, who was stretched
unconscious on the floor. Willow's heart skipped several beats when she saw
the puncture wounds on Mrs. Summers' neck... and the blood.

"What happened?" she asked in something perilously close to blind panic.

"Angel."

Buffy's face was as hard as her voice when she answered, and the single
word said it all. Willow started to shake her head in denial, but it had to
be true. Mrs. Summers had been attacked by a vampire, and only one vampire
had been invited into the Summers' home.

Angel was a bad guy.


Perri <[e-mail]>      I *am* the Buffy Evangalist!
NatPacker-*-Horsechick-*-Pretender-*-Cohenhead-*-DDEB2-*-AGA-*-SunS-*-CoJ
"I'm putting a collar with a little bell on that guy." -- Xander





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

From: Perri Smith <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Stranger (6/8)
Date: 13 Oct 1997 19:13:27 -0500 (CDT)

See part one for disclaimers

The Stranger (Part 6)
by Perri Smith
Copyright 1997

*****

The next few hours passed in a blur. The ambulance arrived after what
seemed like forever, the paramedics gently but firmly shoving everyone out
of the way as they hooked Mrs. Summers up to an IV and loaded her into the
ambulance. Buffy rode with her mom; Xander and Willow followed on foot as
fast as they could.

For all the good it did them; they wound up sitting around in the waiting
room, watching Buffy fill out paperwork with single-minded intensity. To
Xander's credit, the words 'I told you so' never once crossed his lips; he
spent most of his time pacing around the room, since Buffy did *not* want
to be comforted.

Willow finally thought to call their parents to explain where they were,
then, instinctively, dropped another quarter into the phone and called
Giles.  He was asleep, of course -- it was almost midnight and he'd been
spending way too many nights in the library -- but he got the phone on the
third ring, with a bleary, "Hello?"

"Giles? It's me. Um, me, Willow."

"Willow?" It sounded like it took him a second to recognize her name; if
she hadn't been so upset, it might have been funny. "Have you and Buffy
started a club, trading off disturbing my sleep, is that it? Will I get a
call from Xander tomorrow night?"

"Giles, this is serious," she cut him off before his sarcastic British
humor could get any sharper. "We're at the hospital."

That woke him up. "Buffy?"

"Her mom. Angel..." It was surprisingly hard to say the words. "Angel...
attacked her. Buffy came home and saw him holding her mom's body. She....
Giles, can you get here? Please?"

"It's all right, Willow, I'll be there as soon as I can," he said
soothingly, but with an edge of urgency to his voice that spoiled the
effect. "Buffy's mother, is she all right?"

"No one's saying anything." Willow heard the edge of tears in her own
voice. "Buffy looks like she's going to start breaking things, or maybe
people, and --" She saw Xander signaling her at the end of the hall, and
broke off before she could start crying for real. "Giles, I have to go, I
think they've got some news."

"Go, then," he said quickly. "I'm on my way."

She sniffed and hung up, then raced back to the waiting room, where the
doctor was telling Buffy, "We've given your mother two pints of blood and
her red count is stabilizing. We'll going to keep her overnight, just to
be on the safe side, but I think she's going to be fine."

Willow breathed a sigh of relief, but Buffy just nodded. Her face didn't
change from the hard, controlled mask she'd been wearing since she found
her mother.

"Do you have any idea what could have happened to her?" the cdoctor asked,
looking puzzled. "I don't often see that sort of puncture wound on the
neck. It's an awkward place to hurt yourself."

"I don't know how it happened," Buffy lied, instantly and totally
straight-faced. "Can I see her?"

"Of course; she's awake and asking for you."

Buffy followed the doctor down the hall; Willow and Xander exchanged looks
and trailed behind, neither particularly wanting to let Buffy out of their
sight while she was wearing *that* expression.

Buffy's mom looked pale and weak, but infinitely better than she had two
hours before, if only because she was sitting up and her eyes were open. A
bag of blood ran through an IV into the back of her hand. "Hi, honey," she
said weakly, as Buffy came up to the bed.

"Hi, Mom," Buffy said gently, carefully taking her hand.

Willow waved weakly, but stayed towards the back of the room with Xander,
hovering uncertainly.

"I'm sorry I scared all of you," Mrs. Summers said, with a vague smile in
the Slayerettes' direction. "Such a silly accident."

"It's okay," Willow assured her quickly. "As long as you're all right."

"Oh, I'll be fine." She tried to wave breezily, but was hampered by the IV
flowing into one arm and the transfusion tube in the other.

Buffy leaned over her mother. "Do you remember anything, mom?" she asked
carefully.

"Just, um...." Mrs. Summers tried to think; it obviously hurt her sore
head. "Your friend came over," she said finally, slowly, "I was going to
make a snack... "

"My friend?" Buffy repeated hollowly. Willow winced. Another mark against
Angel.

Mrs. Summers didn't appear to notice. "I guess I slipped and cut my neck
on... the doctor said it looked like a barbeque fork. We don't have a
barbeque fork." She looked up at Buffy with a puzzled expression as the
door opened again and Giles came in. He was wearing a scarf over his open
coat, and looked as if he'd run all the way from the parking lot to the
recovery ward. He must have been running, Willow realized as she looked at
her watch. He'd probably set a new world record from his house to the
hospital.

Giles spared a moment to look at Buffy, then Willow and Xander, as if
assuring himself they were all safe, as Mrs. Summers asked in confusion,
"Are you another doctor?

"Oh." Buffy noticed Giles's arrival for the first time; she'd been too
wrapped up in her mom to notice if an entire squad of vampires had come
walking through. "No, Mom, this is Mr. Giles."

Mrs. Summers nodded in recognition. "The librarian from your school." Then
she went back to looking confused. "What's he doing here?"

Giles covered quickly, if not particularly well, giving Buffy's mother the
same quick once-over he'd just given the other three. "I just came to pay
my respects, wish you a speedy recovery."

Fortunately, Mrs. Summers was too tired to question how the news had
spread so fast. Instead, she seemed pleased by his presence. "The teachers
really do care in this town."

"Get some rest, now," Buffy told her, obviously eager to get Giles *out*
of the same room as her mother. She kissed her mom carefully, then led the
way out of the room, the others trailing behind her.

"She's gonna be okay," Buffy told Giles as soon as they were out of Mrs.
Summers' earshot. The Slayer looked dazed, as if the reality of what had
happened had finally sunk in. Willow didn't blame her; she was close to
leaning on Xander to hold herself up. "They gave her some iron, her blood
count was, um, a little...."

Giles picked up the sentance when Buffy faltered. "A little low? It
presents itself like mild anemia. You were lucky you got to her as soon as
you did."

"Lucky?" Buffy's face was fading from shock back to hard, cold rage.
"Stupid."

Xander looked as creeped out as Willow felt. "Buff, it's not your fault--"
he started.

Buffy cut him off ruthlessly. "It isn't? I invited him into my home. Even
after I knew who he was, what he was, and I didn't do anything because I
had feelings for him. Because I *cared* about him."

The self-disgust in her voice had gotten thicker with every word; Willow
couldn't stand it. "If you care about somebody," she said haltingly,
unable to resist the quick, sideways glance at Xander, "you *care* about
them. You can't change that by...."

"Killing him?" Buffy said it easily, casually. "Maybe not, but I think
it's a start."

Willow wanted to argue further, but something in her friend's eyes stopped
her. Buffy wasn't going to listen to anyone just now; the Slayer had taken
over and there was no room for anything else. All Willow could do was nod
as Xander said, carefully, "We'll keep an eye on your mom," and follow him
back into the room.

Xander looked back once at Giles and Buffy, as the Watcher continued to
argue with the Slayer. Willow didn't bother. Buffy had gone to work, as if
it were some nameless, faceless vampire instead of Angel, who Buffy had
mooned over and insulted and kissed. Then again, maybe it would have been
easier if it had been a nameless vampire. It would have been business as
usual, not such a harsh betrayal.

Willow felt that betrayal as deeply as her friend, because she had
defended Angel. If she hadn't, if she had backed Giles and Xander up when
they tried to convince Buffy Angel was a threat, would Buffy's mom still
be in that hospital bed? If Willow hadn't wanted so desperately to
believe, if she hadn't been so helplessly, romantically sure Angel was a
good guy, could she have stopped all of this?

She sighed and huddled in on herself in the stiff, uncomfortable hospital
chair next to the bed, looking at Buffy's mom. She had fallen asleep, her
face pale and the circles underneath her eyes pronounced. The blood
dripped steadily from the bag above her head, replacing what had been
taken from her. She would get better; the doctors said so.

Willow wished it would be as easy to heal everyone else who'd been wounded
tonight.

*****

Giles returned to the hospital room looking grim, and dragged another
chair up beside Willow's, sinking into it with an exhausted, nearly
soundless sigh. Xander paced slowly up and down the far end of the room.
No one said a word, but Willow knew it wasn't Mrs. Summers they were
standing vigil for.

It got to be too much fairly quickly; Willow excused herself quietly and
went into the hall, where at least there were people and distractions --
things to occupy her other than her own thoughts. The magazines in the
waiting area were months out of date, of course, but it wasn't like she
could concentrate enough to read them. She just flipped through them,
staring blindly at the pages.

Waiting.

"I didn't know fishing was your thing, Will." She looked up at Xander,
standing over her with a determined, painful-looking grin on his face,
then back down at the magazine in her hand. Fishing Weekly, sure enough.

She forced a smile to match his, and laid the magazine down carefully.
"Oh, you know, just brushing up for my next bass fishing trip."

"Never know when you might get the chance to catch the big one," Xander
agreed solemnly. She expected him to sit beside her, wished he would, so
she could lean against him for comfort. But he stayed on his feet, his
hands shoved deep into his pockets.

"Go ahead, say it." She was surprised to find herself still smiling, a
tired, resigned smile in Xander's general direction. "You've been dying to
all night, you might as well get it out of your system."

Xander didn't look at her. "Say what?"

"Xander."

"Oh, that. You mean the 'I told you so' thing."

Willow looked at him sideways. "Yeah, that would be the thing."

Xander shrugged, his hands never leaving his pockets. "I wasn't going to
say it." He must have seen the disbelief in her eyes, because he added
defensively, "Okay, I might have been *thinking* it, but I wasn't going to
say it."

"Why not?" Willow sighed. "You were right, we were wrong, and now Buffy's
going to kill Angel, just like you said she should."

"Hey!" Xander's voice was sharp enough and surprising enough to pull her
out of her funk. "You think I *wanted* to be right?"

Well, that was a no-brainer. "Yeah, I do."

Xander flinched, then nodded. "Okay, yeah, I wanted to be right. True
enough. But I didn't want to be this right." He started pacing again, up
and down the waiting room. "I'm not a *total* idiot, you know; I saw what
she looked like. She's gonna kill this guy, but it's not gonna stop her
from blaming herself, it's not gonna stop her from feeling like someone
stabbed a stake in *her* back."

He stopped in front of the window, staring out of it in the general
direction of the Bronze, his shoulders tight. "I'd like to kill him myself
for doing that to Buffy." His laugh was bitter and humorless. "If I had
half a chance of beating her to it."

Willow stared at him. She would never have believed Xander was capable of
this kind of emotion, this kind of cold anger. She'd seen him mean before,
when the hyena had taken him over, and she'd seen him mad, countless times
over their childhood. But never like this. Right then, she didn't even
know him.

Sh couldn't think of anything to say, so she didn't say anything. After a
silent minutes, Xander turned away from the window to look at her.
Everything she was feeling must have been written on her face, because he
made a visible effort to smile.

"Hey, cheer up," he grinned crookedly, back to the same Xander she'd
always known, trying to reassure her when he was scared to death himself.
"It could be worse, she could be having to stalk down and destroy
Cordelia. Now *that* would be scary. She'd probably have designer fangs
and everything."

It shouldn't have been funny, but the morbid humor struck exactly the
right nerve; Willow started giggling helplessly at the image of Cordelia
decked out with monogrammed fangs and colored conacts, so her eyes would
glow purple instead of yellow. She shared the image with Xander, he
retaliated with facials at an exclusive midnight salon, and pretty soon
they were howling.

It wore off, of course; the mild hysteria passed after a few minutes,
leaving them sprawled over the uncomfortable couch trying to catch their
breath. Willow felt a moment of guilt, thinking of Buffy stalking through
the darkness as Willow and Xander laughed their heads off, but was running
out of energy for more than a twinge.

Eventually, Xander dragged himself to his feet and held a hand out to help
Willow up. "Come on, we'd better make sure Giles hasn't bored Mrs. Summers
into a coma. Buffy'd really be mad, then."

Willow gave him a half-hearted glare, too tired for much of anything else,
but took the offered hand and somehow made it back to vertical. She
expected him to drop her hand and he did, but only to put his arm around
her shoulders. Surprised and grateful, she leaned on him.

They made it as far as the hospital room before Willow stopped, hearing
Giles's voice from inside. He sounded upset, and looked even more so when
he came striding out of the room, already pulling his coat on.

"We have a problem," he announced, as the pair fell in step beside him.


Perri <[e-mail]>      I *am* the Buffy Evangalist!
NatPacker-*-Horsechick-*-Pretender-*-Cohenhead-*-DDEB2-*-AGA-*-SunS-*-CoJ
"I'm putting a collar with a little bell on that guy." -- Xander of Angel




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

From: Anya <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: OT: Slayer's Fanfic Archive is DOWN
Date: 13 Oct 1997 20:44:59 -0400

I'm sorry to do this, but I thought I should inform people:

The SLAYER'S FANFIC ARCHIVE has been shutdown (again) by the server
it's on, due to it's size.

It's currently 23MBs in size, and they can't support it at it's
current growth rate.   Biohaz and I will be relocating it to
Simplenet, as soon as I can financially afford to.

I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but assure people, this is temporary.

~Anya



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

From: [e-mail] (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (6/6)
Date: 13 Oct 1997 20:44:13, -0500

Even given bits and pieces of "When She Was Bad..." I think this is the way
the prom happened. :>  'S been a trip. And now, I'm taking a break!

Chris      [e-mail]

"Shadow of an Apocalypse" (6/6)
by Christina Kamnikar
copyright 1997

        It was definitely a sign of the Apocalypse: Cordelia Chase was
fixing Willow Rosenberg's hair.

        "I really appreciate you doing this, Cordelia," Willow said
doubtfully, "but I'd appreciate it more if I could actually _see_ it---"

        "She's doing fine, Will." Buffy combed out a few tangles, frowned
at the comb, then more carefully unsnarled a few knots. "I won't let her do
anything weird to you, okay?" She grinned at me and narrowed her eyes in
concentration as she played with her hair.

        "Keep your eyes closed, and don't turn your head," Cordelia
ordered, twirling the ends of three or four small braids together in a
concoction that was too complicated for me to follow. It was amazing what
she could do with a hair pik and a round brush; upon arriving at the
Bronze, she'd dragged all four of us females into the Ladies Room, claiming
that if we were going to crash the Prom without proper dresses, the least
"her" dance demanded was decent hair. Buffy had already managed to get most
of the water stains out of her trailing skirts, and we'd gotten some
antiseptic from the bartender for the scratches across her chest.

        Giddiness was the mood of the hour; relief and adrenaline had
combined to make all of us a little silly. Buffy in particular seemed in
amazingly high spirits, almost euphoric with victory. //Well, she came back
from the dead. How many times do you survive something like that? Of
*course* she's punchy.// I chuckled weakly at some joke of Willow's as
Cordelia teased her mane, and realized that it was hitting me too. //Alive.
And the sun's coming up tomorrow... And we beat some very, very, very Bad
Dudes. Life is good...//

        I put on some lipstick and firmly refused Cordelia's wide-eyed
offers to "fix" my look too; something was going on with the girl. Altruism
wasn't something she was known for, although she obviously had more
character than I'd given her credit for, to have bitten a vampire not an
hour earlier. Her efforts to aid Willow looked suspiciously like stalling
to me....

        "Cordelia? You don't have to go out there if you don't want to," I
gently suggested, catching the girl's gaze in the mirror. "We'd be happy to
have you join us, but---"

        "Oh, please." The May Queen tossed her head, her eyes shifting away
from mine. "Once we're out of here, they're on their own. This is just sort
of a... thank-you present. Since Buffy wanted to do her own hair," she
rationalized, spraying Willow's 'do with a small aerosol of hairspray.
Buffy and Willow wore identical expressions of mingled exasperation and
amusement as Cordelia went on. "The end of the world's been postponed. The
least I could do to make Willow look presentable. But I'm not hanging with
you guys all night. I have my own friends here, you know."

        "Gee, thanks." Willow cracked open one eye, her mouth twitching.
"Can I look now?"

        "No. I have to do your face."

        "Cordelia, don't you want to fix your own hair?" Buffy asked,
wiping off some mascara smudges with a damp paper towel.

        "My hair's fine." Cordelia's focus had narrowed down to Willow's
face, now defining her lips with a pale peach pencil. "Besides, no one's
going to be looking at me."

        "You're the May Queen," I pointed out. "*Someone* will be looking
at you, it's only normal---"

        "I don't have a dress, I don't have a date---" Cordelia's voice
broke off abruptly, and her mouth thinned as she got out blush for Willow.
"Those were the things that killed Kevin, weren't they? The... vampires?"
she asked in a very low voice.

        "I'm sorry, Cordelia," Willow said, blinking her eyes open. "We
weren't supposed to tell anyone."

        "Like anyone would believe you," the other girl snorted. Her lips
were trembling by now, though her voice was still sarcastic.

        Buffy joined them at the mirror, Willow still facing away from it
towards Cordelia. The brunette was brushing peach sparkly powder onto
Willow's cheekbones in a tone that matched the lipstick. "You helped us
beat the guys that hurt Kevin," the Slayer said quietly, getting out her
own lipstick and applying a light coat. "Maybe you don't feel like being
here, but you earned it. And you *are* May Queen. No one's going to tell
you that you can't attend in chinos."

        "True." Cordelia looked consideringly at Buffy in the mirror, then
at me. She shrugged impatiently, and put some pale brown mascara on
Willow's eyes, blotted it with a tissue, then drew back. "*Now* you can
look."

        "Nice," Willow said in surprise, blinking at herself hesitantly.
"Thanks, Cordelia. I think I can go in there now, even without a formal...
I just wish I'd brought another pair of shoes."

        "Annie Vega is wearing Doc Martens. Your sneakers are fine."
Cordelia picked up her purse and headed for the door, then stopped, turning
back to look at the three of us. "You guys do this stuff all the time,
right?"

        "More or less," Buffy admitted.

        "No *wonder* you're weird," Cordy mused, shaking her head. "It's
been real, but let's not do this again, 'kay?" And with that, she was out
the door before any of us had a chance to find a comeback.

        "I look okay, right? I mean, I'm not exactly an expert on hair---"
Willow fingered the vaguely Grecian waterfall that fell from the crown of
her head with worry, and I grinned.

        "You look fine, Willow. It suits you."

        "You look awesome. The one thing Cordy never gets wrong is hair,"
Buffy added bracingly, squaring her shoulders and smiling at me as she
headed for the door. "C'mon, the guys are waiting."

        Willow and Buffy exited the restroom and were almost immediately
met by Angel and Xander. Gratifyingly for Willow, Xander actually didn't
look at Buffy for a few minutes as he tried to figure out what was holding
Willow's hair up. "Yeah, it looks great, but if I pull *this* pin---"

        "Xander!"

        Against one wall, Cordelia was already holding court, surrounded by
several of her friends and admirers, all of them offering her sympathy,
from what I could see. I shook my head at the sight of her basking in the
glow of the attention, and wondered how long it be before she was back to
her old self completely; then I glanced back at Buffy, who would probably
never be entirely the same again. She was already out on the dance floor
with Angel, her arms looped around his neck, gazing into his face in silent
wonder. Surprised to be alive, dancing with him, maybe?  Whatever she felt,
she deserved to celebrate. She'd defeated vampires, prophecies, and death
itself tonight, and I couldn't think of anyone in recent memory who'd done
so much while receiving so little credit. //Save the world, go to the Prom,
no big deal. Life's simple...//

        Giles was leaning against the bar, studying the dancers and the
flickering lights, and I wandered over to him and perched myself on a bar
stool. "Hey, stranger. Come here often?"

        "Not if I can help it." He smiled wearily but genuinely at me, his
eyes still on the dancefloor. The Bronze was decorated in gold and silver
decorations, shimmering copper balloons and glowing nets of light
criss-crossing its multi-leveled layout to create an illusion of being in a
crystal ball of glitter. Beautiful, and strange, and even more precious now
after the battle we'd just fought, full of kids laughing and dancing and
being... kids. "She never ceases to amaze me," Giles murmured, watching the
Slayer slow-dance with Angel, his eyes melancholy and not at all as
triumphant as they deserved to be.

        I watched the pair for a few seconds, trying to see them through
his eyes, to understand why he still looked worried. Angel was gazing down
at Buffy with an expression of utter absorption; it was obvious that for
him, there was no one else in the room. She returned it steadily, only
aware of him.  Any young man who would come to her and Xander's assistance
against the Master couldn't be a bad choice for Buffy, just based on
circumstances alone. "He's a little old for her, isn't he?" I guessed
tentatively, hoping for a clue to the Watcher's concern.

        "It's not the age difference I'm worried about." Giles seemed to
consider, then amended, "Well, not just the age difference...." His voice
trailed off into a sigh.

        "Are you going to tell me about it?" I asked gently.

        The Brit turned, a little startled, then relaxed and shook his
head. "Not tonight, no."

        "I thought you were through with secrets, Giles. Is there something
about Buffy being a Slayer that makes her relationship with Angel a bad
idea?"

        "It isn't a secret, it's just... sad." He caught my skeptical
glance and smiled, but the sorrow didn't leave his expression. "Please, Ms.
Calender. Ask me at some other time, and I will explain. But I don't wish
to remember why they will have difficulties in the future. Not tonight."

        "Okay." I considered for a moment, then added, "Someday, some way,
I'm going to get it all out of you, Giles. Even if it takes sodium
pentothal...." He chuckled slightly, nodding his understanding. //You only
*think* I'm not serious, Giles.... juuust wait....//

        Willow danced by with an enormous basketball player that I knew by
sight; he seemed to be concentrating on not squashing Willow, who looked
both thrilled and terrified to be there. I searched the room for Xander,
and saw that he had persuaded a small blonde in red to dance with him, but
his eyes were following Buffy and Angel---and straying occasionally to
watch Willow with equal parts exasperation and pique.

        "Ah, Ms. Calender." Principal Snyder adores sneaking up on faculty.
I think he suspects us of talking behind his back, or plotting his
overthrow. Someday it may come to that.... "I'm so glad you could join us.
And Mr. Giles, this _is_ a surprise. I thought you had a sick aunt you had
to visit in Carmel?"

        "Coward," I whispered to Rupert, who had straightened and was now
smiling stiffly at our boss. "At least I didn't try to lie my way out of
this assignment."

        "She... got better," Giles answered, looking pained. "Amazing
recovery.. We're all thrilled."

        "Glad to hear it. Well, keep a sharp look-out. You never know what
these little pagans will get up to," Principal Snyder said darkly, stalking
off across the room to the punchbowl. Giles's and my eyes met and we both
burst into laughter, stifled as best we could so as to not re-attract the
Fuhrer's attention.

        "Couldn't you do any better than a sick aunt?"

        "You're just sorry you didn't think of it first," Giles said,
taking a sip of his drink, still chuckling a little.

        "I would've, if Snyder had given me half a chance---"

        "Hi guys," Buffy greeted us, coming up to the bar with a small
smile, then turned to the bartender. "Could I get a burger with everything,
some fries, and a latte grande?" At the bartender's look, she explained,
"My date forgot to feed me. Please?" She turned back to us as he went to
place our order, and shrugged her shoulders. "What can I say? I'm *really*
hungry..."

        "Not surprising." Giles was hiding whatever unease he felt about
Angel, only affection and pride in his eyes as he spoke. "You're entitled,
I think. Coming back from the dead must be an exhausting experience." His
voice dropped in concern. "You *are* feeling well, aren't you? Aside from
the hunger?"

        "Giles, relax. I'm feeling..." Buffy's brow furrowed, and she
frowned, searching for the word. "Exhilirated. That's it. Wired. It's
pretty cool, actually. Except for the hungry part." She shook her head, her
smile rueful. "My mom would be thrilled to see me ordering all this---I
haven't felt like eating in weeks, and now I want to stuff my face. I never
heard that being dead gave you an appetite."

        "About that---how exactly did you escape?"  Rupert's expression was
pure confusion now, and I grinned, knowing part of the explanation already.

        "Well... at first, when I got down there, I totally tanked when I
faced the Master." Buffy's expression was troubled, and she looked away,
watching the dancers for a second, then back at Giles, tilting her head and
grimacing. "He bit me, and drank some of my blood. That's what set him
free. The prophecy was backwards, Giles."

        "Oh, no... oh, bloody hell---"  Rupert's voice was furious, and he
squinted his eyes shut in sudden pain. "I should have known---"

        "Hey, not your fault, really! The creep said as much, that the
prophecy was supposed to be like that, so I'd go down there. Lucky for me,
he got cocky and just dropped me face-down in one of those little
underwater ponds. Angel and Xander revived me with CPR. Did they have that
back in the 15th Century?" Buffy asked thoughtfully.

        "No," I answered, since it appeared that Rupert was still silently
cursing himself out for not being psychic. "So, there's no way Aurelius
could have predicted it, since he didn't even know what it was."

        "Cool." The Slayer grinned, then sobered. "Giles, it was totally
not your fault. I hit you, remember?" She sighed, her voice sounding much
younger suddenly. "Then I got killed. You were right. Or at least, you
weren't wrong. Doing this by myself was bad idea." She ducked her head,
then looked up at him, her expression apologetic and a little apprehensive.
"And... I'm sorry. About all the things I said yesterday."

        "I deserved them." The Brit seemed to have calmed down, and even,
maybe regained his sense of humor.

        "No, I was way out of line, I was freaking---"

        "Perhaps, but you weren't entirely wrong, either." Giles cleared
his throat, the rueful smile back in full force. "I've come to realize that
believing that any destiny is immutable is one way of giving in to the
enemy." Buffy lifted her chin, and Rupert's smile widened briefly. "I don't
intend to let it happen again.  From now on, I'll quite probably be unable
to read any of the predictions without looking for a double meaning, or
mentally hearing you say 'not even, Giles'."

        Buffy giggled, sixteen once more, and squeezed Giles's arm, her
face warm with affection. "*Very* cool. Oh, awesome, my food's here." She
paid the bartender, then took the huge platter and balanced it effortlessly
on one hand. "Angel suggested that we go up where I can eat on the
roof---he says there's a pretty good view of Sunnydale...." Her voice
sounded tentative, as if waiting for Giles's approval, if not permission,
and her face was full of anxiety and hopefulness.

        "Enjoy yourselves," Giles said quietly. Buffy relaxed and smiled
glowingly at both of us, then walked over to Angel, following him through a
side door, presumably up to the roof.

        "So, what happens now in the wonderful world of Sunnydale?" I
asked, ordering a triple mocha from the bartender with a lovely feeling of
contentment. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Willow and Xander
dancing together, Xander talking vociferously, Willow watching him with
amused disbelief, I think. Evidently she'd condescended to dance with him
after the basketball player, and he was making up for lost time.

        "Summer. The Master is dead, so things will be easier for a little
while. The days will grow longer, there will be fewer vampires in the
vicinity..." Giles shrugged. "But we *are* living on the Hellmouth. There
will always be a battle to fight." He paused, and studied me obliquely,
then added in a voice that tried for lightness, "But _you_ do not have to
be worried about it any longer, Ms. Calender. I think it unlikely that I
will be dragging you into this kind of situation again."

        "Right. Like you can do it all on your own?" I snorted, blowing on
my drink, and took a hesitant sip.

        "You are not Buffy. Or myself, for that matter. Calender, you are
not compelled to face the forces of evil through a pre-set fate. You *can*
leave, if you wish to. And I can't imagine, after tonight, why you would
not...." His expression was sober and questioning, needing answers that he
couldn't seem to bring himself to ask for.

        I met his eyes over my drink.  I couldn't tell what answer he
wanted, but I knew what answer I was going to give.  "I don't bail on my
friends, Giles." We shared a long look, and his eyes held mine, with a
dozen unarticulated possibilities in them. I cleared my throat, adding,
"Any more than Xander or Willow would. Or Angel."

        "No. I don't suppose you would." His very serious gaze warmed into
tentative smile that finally reached his eyes. "We are friends, aren't we?"

        "To quote Buffy, *duh*!" I batted my eyelashes at him in
exaggerated derision, and he chuckled. I got to my feet, feeling a wicked
smile form as I reached for his hand. "C'mon, Giles. Dance this one with
me. I see Coach Galway headed in our direction, and I need you to save me."

        "I have never known anyone who needed saving less..." Rupert said
severely, not moving, but he did glance in the direction of the gym coach,
and he didn't retrieve his hand.

        "Yeah? Well, I know who to appeal to if I do need saving, don't I,
St. George?"

        "Oh, God..." Giles was blushing as I dragged him onto dance floor.
"You're not going to let me forget that bit of momentary insane
recklessness, are you?"

        "Not a chance. And don't try to tell me you wouldn't do it again,
either. You've got a yen to be a hero, Rupert." I grinned, delighted at the
way he refused to meet my eyes as the band segued into a low-key love song.

        "Fine. Then I insist on knowing your given name."

        "You don't know it?"  I said in surprise.

        "I wouldn't be asking if I did," Giles replied dryly.

        "It's Jenny."

        "Jenny." Another slow smile, one of the ones that could distract me
from arguing with him, or teasing him, or anything at all. "Suits you."

        Sometimes you don't need a snappy comeback. I closed my eyes, and
forgot all about vampires and Darkness, resurrected Slayers and the
Hellmouth, and just let the music take me for the rest of the song.

*

Un-freaking-believable. It's done.. <sigh>

Comment when ya can. :>         Chris  [e-mail]



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

From: [e-mail]
Subject: Re: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (4/6)
Date: 14 Oct 1997 02:32:22 +0100

I seem to be missing part 3 and 5 of this story. Did they not get sent
out or is it just my mailing service. Thanks in advance.

       Northcat-GASPer, keeper of Giles' office



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

From: [e-mail] (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (3A/6)
Date: 15 Oct 1997 03:39:47, -0500

 See part 1 for disclaimers. Comments welcomed at [e-mail]

"Shadow of an Apocalypse" (3a/6)
by Christina Kamnikar
copyright 1997

         The sun had almost set by the time I got to the high school and
parked my car in the teacher's lot. There were only one or two other cars
there, including Rupert's junker. Not that mine's much better; neither of
us can afford the kinds of cars most of our students drive---bought and
paid for by their parents. I hurried inside, wondering what could be
scary enough to force Snobby to admit that he needed 'back up', and hoping
it was just the deaths of four students in the school. Praying it wasn't
anything more.

         I got my first shock of the night when I entered the library.
Sunnydale's mild-mannered but acid-tongued librarian had opened the
locked storage area where older books were usually kept and was busily
extracting weapons from a cabinet I hadn't ever noticed before. "Rupert?"
He turned to me with an enquiring expression, a glittering steel dagger in
one hand, a handful of ninja throwing stars in the other. I gulped, feeling
my eyes widen. "Are you arming for an invasion? Should I have brought my
brass knuckles?" I picked up a knife, curved and deadly-looking, that he'd
placed on one of the reading tables. "I mean, did you confiscate these from
students, or what?"

         "Not precisely." He smiled thinly, adding the stars and dagger to
the collection growing in the main library. His disheveled appearance
from the day before had been smoothed as if it never existed, his cuffs
buttoned, tie in place; only the deep weariness around his eyes hinted at
any mental upset. "I've had these for quite some time---they're part of
an extensive collection. They may be necessary in facing what's to come."

         I carefully replaced the knife, trepidation getting a claw-hold
in my stomach again. "You said you were going to explain what's going on.
Does it include a good reason for what happened this morning?"

        "Yes. You deserve to know what's going on, and if the worst
occurs, someone else should be prepared for the consequences." He didn't
look at me, and instead went back to rummaging in the weapons locker as he
spoke, selecting one weapon, discarding another, bringing some back to the
small display on the table. His voice remained even and calm as he began to
lecture on what was obviously a very familiar subject. He didn't
sound as if he particularly cared if I believed his explanation or not;
and it struck me that for Rupert, things like other people's opinions had
ceased to matter a long time ago. You couldn't say what he was saying as
coolly as he was without having come to terms with what most people's
reactions would be. //Either that, or he *does* trust you. And is more
desperate than you thought.//

         "I expect you're aware that Sunnydale has a long history as a
center of paranormal activity?"

         "It's come up in a couple conversations," I said cautiously. "My
friend Cami mentioned some Spanish superstitions when I moved here; and
I've got a few friends who've mentioned that this whole area of the coast
seems to be jinxed...." It had actually seemed like a plus, back then. A
chance to come in contact with concrete magic. Now, though, I realized I
should have done more research before I accepted the position as Sunnydale
High's comp sci teacher.

        "Cursed may be more accurate," Rupert said, stringing a crossbow
and testing the sights. "'Boca del Infierno' was the Spanish name.
'Hellmouth' in English; rather more daunting in the original
language...." He replaced the crossbow and began examining a set of
stilettos, sliding them out of their scabbards and checking them for
who-knew-what; rust? Sharpness? A sense of surreality hit me as I watched
Snobby competently and fearlessly mess with some very nasty weapons. //I
would have thought he'd hate this sort of thing....// "In any event, the
upshot is the same: we are living on one of the dimensional gates to the
demonic plane."


         "Whoa. Wait a minute. Back up a bit." I leaned forward, catching
his gaze as he placed some of the curved daggers on the table, picking up
the throwing stars and carrying them back to the collection. "Are you
saying that *Sunnydale* is like... Angkor Wat? Stonehenge? Atlantis?" I
sat down on one of the chairs, some of the weirdness of the last months
falling into place. "A focus point for paranormal energy? One of the places
in the world where you can move from--- world to world..." My voice trailed
off as I considered the implications, shivering. //The site for the Last
Battle?// And I'd been so hyped about getting a job within driving distance
of San Francisco.


         "Specifically, the Hellmouth opens from our world to the first
worlds of demons," Rupert was saying, his mouth tightening as he studied
me; probably for signs of disbelief. His voice dropped as he went on.
"Such portals are usually sealed, of course; their permanent opening would
leave our world very vulnerable to... a great many things. But they can't
be contained completely; they leak magic into our world as a matter of
course. An area around a Hellmouth  *will* attract the kinds of energy you
mentioned---much of it very negative." He sighed, very softly, so softly
I almost didn't catch it, then went on in a brisker tone. "Approximately
sixty years ago, an attempt was made to open the Hellmouth."

         "Who would be crazy enough to do that?" I asked, swallowing hard,
disbelief making my voice rise.

         "A vampire king."

         I stared at Rupert; he stared back, eminently sane, utterly
British, waiting for me to protest, clear grey eyes evaluating my mental
state while I tried to grasp the impossible. I opened my mouth; closed
it. Picked up one of the little daggers and thought for a few seconds, my
fingers shaking. "Okay," I murmured, nodding, not doubting him, even
though every self-preservation instinct I had was screaming at me to get
the hell out of there. "Okay." I put the dagger down, thinking of the kids
in the A/V room. The urge to say "there are no vampires" came and went.
Giles has a sense of humor, but it's not that sick.  If he said there was a
vampire king, there was a vampire king.

         I felt queasy, terrified, and vaguely silly; every movie cliche'
I'd ever happily giggled over came back to me now with horror-tinged
clarity. Somehow, I'd never taken my acceptance of the reality of Power
into that dark an alley. But if there's Light in the world---and I know
there is---there has to be Dark, doesn't there? I suddenly saw how naive
I'd been, to never realize what that really meant before. //Someone has
to fight the Dark. Here. Now.// Rupert was getting ready to do just that.
In a couple minutes, I was going to have to ask him how I could help....


         Taking a deep breath, I asked, "What has this got to do with the
kids who were killed this morning?"

         "A great deal, unfortunately." A thread of pain wound through the
matter-of-factness in his voice. Everything about Rupert was stretched
taut, I realized; his voice, his movements, every muscle in his
body---all seemed to be conserving energy for the fight to come. Whatever
fight that was. "The Master, as he is called, has been trapped in the
Hellmouth itself since the attempt he made in 1939--there was an earthquake
that interrupted his spellcasting, and he was unable to free himself. The
prophesied end to his imprisonment is approaching, and as the spell holding
him weakens, more and more of his brethren have been gathering in
Sunnydale. Thus... the attack, last night, upon the students who were
here."


         The impersonal tone he'd been trying to affect slipped at the end
of this speech, the previous ache palpable in his voice again; I thought
of Willow, finding the bodies of her friends, and flinched away from the
image as Rupert continued speaking. "If he succeeds in freeing himself, he
will complete the incantation, and the Hellmouth will open. Leaving our
world open to all the denizens of the demonic plane."

         "Goddess." I laced my fingers together, putting my head down on
them and trying to think while Snobby made a few moves with a long axe,
then thoughtfully returned it to the locker. I put what Rupert had told
me together with what little I knew of Brother Luca's prophecies, and had a
clearer picture about what we were up against. Panic hovered at the edges
of my mind, and I told it to go away until after I was done grilling
Rupert; it scuttled off for a bit, but not to where I couldn't see it
hanging around still. I let my hands drop down from my face, and glared
at Snobby. "Assuming that I can keep all this straight---and that it makes
sense in the first place---how the _hell_ did you find all this out
before I even had a clue?"

         "Ah." He had the grace to look guilty, I'll give him that. "We
come to the more difficult part of the explanation now, I'm afraid. More
difficult to believe, I mean...." He looked appealingly at me, possibly
for a reprieve, but I just rolled my eyes.

         "I can't imagine how, Rupert. We've covered Hellmouths, vampire
kings, and prophecy fulfillment in the last five minutes, what can
*possibly* out-weird what you've told me so far?"

         "Good point."

         "You're stalling," I accused him.

         "You're absolutely correct." He took off his glasses, polished
them  with a handkerchief, put them back on, then determinedly forged on,
watching my face the whole time, for --- what? Panic? Laughter? I
realized we were getting to the part that actually impacted us just before
Snobby finally confessed all. "My family has been interested... no,
involved, in the occult, for generations.  It's a long tradition, most of
it concerned with vampires, and vampire watching... That's... what I am. A
Watcher." I could hear the capital letter he put on the word, the emphasis
he gave it, and understood that that was how he thought of himself: not as
a librarian, or a teacher, or a historian, but a Watcher. "We have records
dating back centuries; copies of the prophecies, predictions, dates... et
cetera. All indications are that the Master will be freed tonight, through
the actions of a vampire known as the Anointed One."

         "You've spent your whole life watching vampires?" I was beginning
to feel punchy again, perception fighting reality and losing badly, the
more Rupert told me about himself. I had a sudden image of Snobby noting
down the flight habits of the North Californian Blood-Sucking Vampire in
little book, with binoculars around his neck. I shook my head, wishing
I'd gotten more sleep that morning.

         "Well... no. Not my entire life. And not vampires, really." He
seemed embarassed, and adjusted his glasses again, glancing away from me.
"Actually, I've been priviledged to be the teacher, and Watcher, of the
Slayer."

*

Continued in part 3b

Comments to [e-mail]         Christina       }|{



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

From: [e-mail] (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (5a/6)
Date: 15 Oct 1997 03:41:18, -0500

Disclaimers in part 1. Comments! I love 'em! Send to [e-mail]

"Shadow of an Apocalypse" (5/6)
by Christina Kamnikar
copyright 1997

         I made myself coffee from some instant junk which Rupert had
lying in the bottom drawer of his file cabinets, while he combed through
the back stacks for reference material he needed.  Giles had fixed some tea
and thrown back several aspirin a few minutes before; he still didn't
appear to be in great shape, but it wasn't bad enough to stop him. I'm not
sure how bad it _would_ have had to be, to force him to quit searching for
a way out at that point.

         Willow had slumped into one of the chairs immediately after
Xander left, looking shocky and numb. Maybe she was still thinking about
what she'd found that morning---or maybe she was worrying about her
friends, out there facing monsters and dire predictions. I left her alone
to try to cope, unsure whether she would welcome an intrusion on her
thoughts, and drank my caffeine with a grimace, knowing I would need it
even though it made me long for something decent. //We might be facing an
all-nighter here. Who knows how long it'll take us to find a spell powerful
enough to close a Hellmouth.// If we even could. I frowned as Rupert
descended the steps, thinking hard as he spoke to me.


         "The Master is as old as any vampire on record. There's no
telling how powerful he'll be if he reaches the surface." Rupert's arms
were piled high with old leather-bound books, thick and weighty enough to
squash small plants--- or at least intimidate them. I was too far into my
new idea to really notice at that moment.

         "Okay, here's my question. The Hellmouth opens...." I mused
aloud, following my train of thought to what I realized was a vital concern.

         "Yes?" Rupert asked, prompting me.

         I turned around, gesturing with my coffee cup. "Where? If he's
 underground and it opens right where he is, where is it going to open?"

         "Good point." The Brit looked thoughtful, his eyes unfocusing for
a moment before he came back to the present. "Well, you should look through
the back Chronicles---" He handed me one of the heavy doomsday books, and
I hefted it with mild annoyance. Of *course* it hadn't been scanned into
the computer a month ago; it was part of his private collection. //If we
live through this, Snobby, this is going onto a disk...// "Willow.
Willow?" Giles repeated, catching the girl's eye.

         "Hunh?" Willow blinked at him, still appearing stunned, clearly
not paying attention to our conversation.

         "Could you look through the local histories, please. Check for
any common denominators, locations of incidences and such." Giles' stutter
faded in and out as he spoke, seeming preoccupied with his research and
unaware of Willow's emotional state.

         "Right, okay," she nodded obediently and stood up, going over to
the computer behind the returns desk.

         "She ought to be at home," I said in a low voice, settling into
one of the uncomfortable reading chairs and propping my feet up on another.
"Where it's safe."

         "I know," Rupert responded quietly, looking over his glasses at
Willow. "And I would agree. But it is her choice... and we shouldn't deny
her the opportunity to support her friends. She wants to be here, and she
wants to help. Perhaps it will be of help to her, to be able to do
something," he murmured softly, turning the pages of a Latin spellbook.

         "All right. I suppose," I mumbled, trying to find the Index in my
volume. "But if she looks like she's getting shaky again, I'm taking her
home."

         "Very well. I don't believe she'll need it, though. Willow is a
very loyal person. And much stronger than she looks," Giles said gently,
already absorbed in his research.

         I studied him for a second, then started scanning the Chronicle.
Incredible amounts of information about vampires were contained in its
pages, much of it going back to 1910, when another earthquake and vampire
infestation had hit Sunnydale. Some of it was terrifying, some of it
borderline unbelievable; all of it would have made best-selling horror
fiction. //Except it's real, Nik. It's all real, it's here, and you have
to find a clue, some clue about how to make it all go *away*....// I
thumbed through pages and pages of entries, finding a few references that
looked promising, but none of them were specific enough when I kept
reading. //What kind of person writes all this stuff down, but doesn't have
any notes on how to disperse the enemy? I can't believe they were all just
 depending on Slayers all these years!//

         Except it worked. Entry after entry detailed Slayer kills, their
abilities, and how they executed legions of the undead and emerged
unscathed. Most of the time. Much of the time. But... it was plain, very,
very plain, even from a small smattering of reading, that Slayers did not
die of natural causes.

         Someday, Buffy would be one of these entries. She would make a
mistake, be a little too slow, suddenly get overwhelmed by numbers; and
then she would merely be one of many. One of the former Slayers. A
deceased Slayer.

         Rupert had to know this.

         I stared at the pages of the book unseeingly, turning that fact
over in my mind. It was inevitable that Buffy would die in the line of
duty. Even if we saved her tonight (which was becoming increasingly
unlikely as time passed) there would come a day when all her luck and
skill couldn't save her. How had Giles come to terms with that? How did he
cope with the knowledge that someone he cared about---cared about a great
deal, if I was any judge---was going to die a violent death, probably too
young to have even had a life?  Did he just hope he wouldn't be alive to
see it, that she'd outlive him? Or was he that devoted to his principles,
that he could accept that there would be another Slayer, someday?

         //Probably neither. He was willing to face the Master for her
tonight. 'I defy prophecy.'// I closed my eyes for a second, overwhelmed.
//Maybe he's just willing to go to any lengths to protect her, and that
allows him to keep going.// And maybe that was the only way to face the
Dark. To not surrender one inch, one hour, or one breath to it---and
maybe gain back some ground that way. I opened my eyes and covertly studied
Giles, who was still poring over a tome more frightening than the one I
was stuck with.

         'Snobby', as I'd originally perceived him to be, wouldn't have
been willing to fight hard for anything. I'd thought he was a close-minded,
cold, unfeeling, convention-bound elitist. After the Moloch incident, I'd
known that he was nowhere near as conventional or unfeeling as he first
appeared.  But I still wouldn't have dreamed that he would be capable of
conceiving of facing a vampire king alone. That kind of imagination and
guts was pretty damn rare.

         //The only way that nickname fits him now is in describing his
accent,// I thought ironically. //And let's face it, you *really* like
the accent....//

         I pulled my wandering thoughts back onto the Chronicles,
unwilling to take _that_ thought any further in our current situation. We
spent the  next twenty minutes like that, until I gave up and pushed the
book aside. "There's nothing in there that'll help.... Rupert, have we got
_any_ clue  about what to do if the Master rises?"

         "Somewhat. There are ceremonies for closing portals, and killing
demons-- although none of them are simple or painless," the Brit said in
t ight voice. He rubbed his temples, then took off his glasses, squinting
in the low light of the library book lamps.  "Let's think about this... The
vampires have been gathering, they know he is coming, they will be his army...."

         "You think they'll gather at the Hellmouth?" I asked, starting to
get hopeful, wondering how we could track vampires. //Verrrry carefully,
Jenny.//

         "The last time the Master tried to rise was during the Harvest,"
Willow piped up, joining us at the library table, looking much less
shocky than she had twenty minutes before. //Points to Snobby... Rupert.
No, Giles, damnit. He was right, she needed to have something to do. I'm
glad he wasn't wrong.// "He sent a bunch of vampires to get him fresh
blood," the teen continued.

         I glanced from Willow to Giles. "Where did that go down?"

         Giles looked stunned, and put his glasses back on as he answered
me. "The Bronze---"

         Willow's eyes widened in the realization that had hit the Watcher
and me at the same time: that the coffee bar would be full of potential
victims tonight, despite the morning's tragedy.  They hadn't had time to
call it off... "The Prom!"

         "We have to warn them," the Brit said urgently, starting to rise.

         "No, we'll go. You have to concentrate on demon killing," I said
firmly, pushing him back into his chair and grabbing my purse and car
keys. How we were going to get them out of the Bronze was another
question--- claim a bomb threat? Contagious virus? I turned to go,
gesturing to Willow to join me, knowing I couldn't do it alone even if I
wanted to. "My car's in the lot."

      "Stay close together, and for goodness sake be careful!" Giles
called after us.

         "We will," Willow told him reassuringly as we left the library,
sounding very serious and adult. It reminded me of Xander, and Buffy
before him.

         That was the last quiet, sane second I had. Right there....

         We got to the parking lot, Willow jittery, me nervous and
hurrying, fumbling with my keys and praying that I could speed across town
without running into any cops, when Willow spoke up. "What if they get to
the Bronze before we do?" she asked anxiously, her voice high and worried.

         I looked up from trying to find my keys and came to a dead stop.
 "Don't need to worry about that." My voice sounded very even and cool to
my own ears, just as my pulse started trip-hammering.

       "Why not?" Willow bumped into me, and I instinctively put my arm
out to shield her.

       I could hear her quick intake of breath even as I said, "'Cause
 they're not going to the Bronze."

         Dozens of shambling, grotesque figures were coming out of the
fog. I swallowed hard, finally seeing vampires for the first time: feral
eyes, animalistic faces, and an air of.... evil. The fog seemed to bring a
smell of decay with it, trying to seep into my clothes, forcing me to
breathe through my mouth. I can't describe it; but I wanted to run. I
wanted to *flee*, get the hell out of there... they weren't funny, they
weren't unbelievable, they were gut-numbingly awful, and _wrong_. Things
that shouldn't exist. Willow and I turned to run, and damnit, there were
*more* of the ugly suckers, coming around behind us.

       "Why are they coming here?" I asked, trying to grasp how this could
be happening without any warning at all---

       "Not caring!" Willow's voice was rising in panic, and then we heard
the screech of car tires. I whirled around to see Cordelia Chase's BMW
pull up nearly on top of me.

         "Get in!"  Cordelia shouted, and we rushed into the car, opening
doors while she was talking to us, high and fast.  Maybe she'd had her
learner's permit revoked twice already, but I was never so glad for an
offered ride in my life. "I was sitting where Kevin and I used to park,
and all of a sudden these *things* are coming at me!"

         Willow had just slammed her door shut, when one of the "things"
stuck its head down over the windshield. All three of us screamed in
surprise and fright, and I gulped in big breaths of air, feeling my heart
pound.  "What do we do now?" I yelled at Willow, hoping she had some
idea. Goddess knew, I didn't. Not one. I was too busy trying not to panic.

         "We have to get to the library!" Willow responded, still keeping
her head better than I was.

*

Continued in part 5b            Comments welcomed at [e-mail]
Christina       }|{



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

From: [e-mail] (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (5b/6)
Date: 15 Oct 1997 03:44:29, -0500

See part 1 for disclaimers. Comments appreciated at [e-mail].

"Shadow of an Apocalypse" (5b/6)
by Christina Kamnikar
copyright 1997


         Cordelia's eyes narrowed scarily in fury and concentration.
"Library, great!" She floored the accelerator, veering around the
parking lot and dislodging the hitchhiking monster on the roof--- then
headed straight for the school doors, showing a fine disregard for
school property that she usually reserved for the feelings of the nerdier
students around her. Vampires scattered as she gained speed, not wanting to
test their immortality, I supposed.

       "Of course, we generally walk there..." Willow observed in a
quavery voice as I clutched onto the dashboard.

         The car smashed through two sets of doors, splintering wood and
metal not slowing the BMW one whit, then zoomed down the hall to come to
a squealing halt in front of the library doors. The three of us piled out
rapidly, the monsters still at our heels as we slammed the doors to the
library shut. Cordelia and Willow gave involuntary screams as the
vampires started pushing at the doors---and, well, maybe I couldn't stop
myself from yelling a little too.

          "What's happening!" Giles asked in alarm, getting to his feet as
we tried to keep the monsters out.

        "Guess!" I screamed back at him over the growls of the attacking
monsters and the screams of the other two.

         Giles rushed to push the Xerox machine in front of the door,
while Willow used the "Quiet Please" sign to bash the fingers of the
encroaching vampires. Cordelia and I pushed bookshelves across the doorway.
The Brit stuck the sign through the handles of the door then yelled, "Why
are they coming *here*?"

         I didn't respond, since I still didn't have an answer for that
one. There had to be a reason, but whatever it was, we had bigger problems.
"Hurry, hurry, hurry---" I muttered as we tried to strenghten the barricade.

         Some noise distracted the librarian, and he pointed toward the
far wall. "They're coming in through the stacks!"

         "The bookshelves!" Willow shouted, and the two of us raced across
the room to push the empty shelves in front of the back windows. I could
see the faces of grinning, snarling vampires through the glass and
shuddered, trying to get the barriers in place before any of the windows
were broken.

         An aghast exclamation of "My office!" grabbed my attention for a
second, and I turned to see Giles run into his private den to bar the
windows in there. A loud <<crash>> against the front entrance distracted
me, in time to see an arm snake through the window and grab Cordelia.

         "Somebody help!" she screamed, dark eyes wide with terror and
panic as she pushed her whole weight against the rattling barrier.

         But Willow's and my shelves were shaking too, as the vampires
punched through the windows and tried to dislodge our protection. Besides
that, I'd realized with sinking dread that we were doomed. //We're gonna
die. In horror movies, they wait the monsters out until sunrise---but
that's hours and hours and hours away. We're gonna die.// Giles hadn't had
time to find any spells; we wouldn't be able to find the Hellmouth and
close it; the puny weapons that we had with us in the library weren't
going to be enough to hold off an army... //Oh, Goddess. Help. Someone, help....//


         Neither of the girls had realized how bad our dilemma was yet.
Cordelia was turning and actually sank her teeth into the arm holding
her, eliciting a howl from the monster that didn't drown out her angry
comment of "See how *you* like it!"

         Yelling, "This won't keep them out for long!", Willow pushed her
body back against the bookshelves as I exerted all my strength trying to
keep them in place. //We don't have a spell. Or a plan. Or any weapons,
really. We're toast. But I can't tell her that---// I wanted to cry. I
wanted a miracle.

         Willow let out a high, terrified shriek and then started to fall
forward. A slimy gray tentacle, leading down into the main crack caused
by the earthquake, was wrapped around her ankle---and it was pulling. I
grabbed her, trying to help her keep her balance, and the thing yanked
again, pulling us both to the floor with its unexpected strength.

         "Giles! GILES!" I yelled, trying to keep a grip on Willow---

         With a sound like an exploding drum, the rest of the monster
blossomed out of the crevace, shrieking and gurgling as it rose.
Three-headed, huge, snaky, wormy, gray, disgusting---and laughing at us
with a mouthful of sharp, pointy teeth. "The Hellmouth..." I heard Giles
gasp. //Oh, that would be why....// flashed through my mind, but I didn't
even bother following up the realization, digging my fingers into the
girl's arms as she screamed and the demon tried to pull us closer.
"Giles!!" I was screeching by now. Out of the corner of my vision I saw
Giles grab an axe from the table and rush to help us. Willow couldn't
stop screaming; she was twisting and struggling to get away from the awful
thing as I grimly held onto her, desperately attempting to keep it from
dragging her into the crevace. "GILES!"  //God, Goddess, we're going to die---//

         Giles raised the axe and landed a harsh >thwack< on the monster's
chortling head, his face contorted with the effort, then pulled it out
and landed another blow as I tried to get Willow free.  My throat was sore
from screaming, Willow was whimpering and shrieking, and I concentrated on
just hanging on, trying not to let go of her.... The Hell Hound whipped
around, shooting its tentacles toward Giles, and threw him half-way across
the room into one of the reading tables. He landed with enough force to
splinter the table, and one head hovered menacingly above him as another
gurgled inches from me and Willow. //Giles...//  Sick and despairing, I
felt the monster start to inch Willow closer across the carpet. //Is Giles
okay, no, no, this isn't the way it's supposed to happen, I don't want to
die, oh Goddess please NO//

         A shattering crash came from above as the skylight shattered, and
a body fell down through it onto the ruined remains of the overturned table
and impaled itself. It was a vampire, hideous, dressed in black leather;
and it almost immediately began to dissolve as the vampire's continued
screams tapered off, blood-red dust rising from the corpse to reveal the
bone underneath. The Hound gave one last almighty howl and let go of Willow
before sliding across the floor, disappearing back down into the crevace.

         Gasping, I looked up and saw Buffy looking back through the broken
skylight. She smiled triumphantly downward for a second, then disappeared
from view.

         "It's gone?" Willow whispered, and I nodded, unable to speak. "Yay...."

         "Yay," I echoed, hugging her, and she smiled in incandescent
relief and hugged me back before carefully sitting up. I noticed that the
sounds of the vampires trying to get in had stopped, and the shelves were
no longer rattling. //Guess the Army of Darkness had better things to do
than hang around here....//

         "Is everyone all right?" I turned over, propping my arms up on my
elbows and resting my chin on my hands. Smiling giddily, I met Rupert's
eyes with unalloyed relief. "Are you both unhurt?" he asked urgently,
leaning against the stairway rail, his eyes darting from Willow to me and back.

         "We're fine, Giles. Are you okay? It looked like you landed
pretty hard," Willow said, climbing to her feet and brushing dust off her
tights.

         "Shaken, but no broken bones," Giles said, his own smile
escaping.

         "That was the *ickiest* thing I have _ever_ seen," Cordelia
declared from the doorway, where she was slumped bonelessly against the
shelves and Xerox machine. "Where did it go? It's not coming back, is it?"

         "Back where it came from. And no, I wouldn't think it would be
returning," Giles answered, adjusting his glasses. "Did you see, on the roof---"

         "Buffy? Yeah." I grinned wider, and Willow's eyes lit up.
Everything about Giles had loosened for perhaps the first time that night.
I knew how he felt; my own muscles felt like they'd uncoiled into Silly
Putty when I saw the Slayer above me through the skylight.

         "She's okay? *Cool*!" Willow bounced down the stairs toward the
door, and started helping Cordelia move the furniture.

         "Can I have hysterics now?" I asked Giles.

         "No. I get to have them first," he replied firmly, helping me to
my feet.

         "Spoilsport."

         A few minutes later a bruised but very alive Buffy, her hair
mussed, claw marks across her chest, entered the library. Xander and
another, dark-haired older kid, maybe about nineteen or twenty, came in
with her, both of them appearing unharmed. Cordelia was straightening up
the last of the door barricade as they walked in, and Willow and I
finished moving the shelves and joined Giles in the middle of the library,
next to the corpse of the vampire who had to have been the Master.

         "The vampires?" Giles asked in concern, looking from Xander to
Buffy, his eyes still not completely free of worry.

         Cordelia shrugged, looking mystified. "Gone.

         "The Master?" The stranger asked, obviously someone else who  knew
all about Slayers and vampires and prophecies. He was handsome in a
clear-cut way, and I guessed that Xander had called him in to help when
he went after Buffy.

       "Dead. The Hellmouth is closed," Giles answered him, then turned to
the slender figure in white staring at the vampire's skeleton. "Buffy?
Buffy?" He asked in concern.

         Buffy blinked, coming out of her hypnotized study of the Master,
looking a little ragged around the edges. "Oh, sorry. It's just... been a
really weird day," she said shakily, tears shimmering in her eyes. Whatever
she had gone through had done more than just mess her hair up; but she
seemed to be more exhausted than hurt, and her smile was unforced relief.

        "Yeah, Buffy died and everything," Xander commented nonchalantly.
Now that the danger was past, I could tell that he was going to enjoy
re-hashing the details, probably already forgetting whatever terrors he
and Buffy and their friend had been through.

         "Wow. Harsh," Willow responded, impressed.

         Giles's voice was husky with emotion. "I should have known that
wouldn't stop you," he said, sounding relieved, proud, happy, rueful and
exhausted. Buffy smiled affectionately at him, no doubt hearing all the
things he wasn't saying and seeing them in his barely-suppressed grin.

         "Well, what do we do now?" Cordelia asked, looking around at all
of us expectantly.

         "I don't know about the rest of you, but I want to get out of
this place. I don't like the library very much any more," Giles said
gruffly, British understatement coming to the fore again.

       "Hey, I hear there's a dance at the Bronze," Xander pointed out. I
stifled a chuckle, remembering that I was supposed to be chaperoning, and
checked my watch. //8:30?? That nightmare felt like forever, and it's
only 8:30? Guess Principal Snyder won't have any reason to yell at me,
after all... //

         "Yeah!" Cordelia responded enthusiastically.

         "Buffy?" Willow said hopefully, her eyes dancing as she looked
at her friend.

         The Slayer pursed her lips, considering. "Sure. We saved the
world. I say we party." She looked down at her bedraggled self, then at the
rest of us and added a little more tearily, "I mean, I got all pretty...."

         "What about him?" I asked, studying the remains of the Master
with worry. The skeleton was still impaled on the broken table, a grisly
reminder of what we'd just gone through.

         Buffy turned and studied the corpse in turn, her eyes darkening.
"He's not going anywhere," she stated with eerie certainty. Then her lip
curled into a classic teen-ager's sneer. "*Loser.*"

         We stood there a moment more, contemplating the dead vampire, then
all of us turned and walked toward the door. I grabbed my purse from the
library counter as we went by, and Giles told me, "I'm not dancing, that's understood..."

         "We'll see," I responded happily, too glad to be alive to tease
him very hard.

         "What's with the car in the hall?" Xander asked bemusedly.

         "Oh, that was me, saving the day!" Cordelia said, sounding proud
of herself, skipping over to her BMW and climbing in.

         "I'm *really* hungry..." Buffy mentioned as Giles held the door
open for her. Willow was babbling something Angel about joining us at the
dance, and he smiled crookedly, looking bemused.

         "By the way, I really like your dress," I heard Buffy's friend
say as they went by, smiling at her crookedly.

         "Yeah, yeah, a big hit with everyone," the Slayer responded
dryly, her eyes sparkling at him despite her words.

         "Who wants shotgun?" I asked, jingling my keys as we went out to
the parking lot. Cordelia was backing her car out carefully, and I
momentarily wondered how we were going to explain the destruction of the
doors on Monday. //Well, I guess we can blame it on aftershocks? Or
something...// Then again, total denial might be the smartest course.

         "Me!" Willow said, skipping ahead.

         "I'm not getting into a car with Cordelia," Xander said, raising
his eyebrows and following Willow for a second, then pausing to look back
at Buffy. The Slayer was already climbing into the front seat of Giles's
junker, gathering her skirt together so it wouldn't drag.

         "I'll drive Angel and Buffy, and we'll meet you there," Giles
said calmly, holding the rear door of his car for the other young man.
Xander's shoulders hunched, and I nodded thoughtfully at Giles, then
unlocked the car doors for my passengers.

         "...*really* glad you're okay, Xander," Willow was saying as I
got in. "That was pretty smart, taking Angel along. But what did you mean
when you said Buffy died?"

         "Oh, well, she was only dead a couple minutes. But I had to give
her CPR, 'cause the Master had dropped her into this pool of water, so
she'd gone into shock," Xander replied, cheering up at the chance to
explain. "That's not something Angel could do," he added under his breath,
and I glanced at him in the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of
bitterness in his expression.

         "Good for you," I responded, getting us out of the parking lot.

         "Thanks." Xander's smile turned wry, and Willow leaned around the
seat to squeeze his hand, her face full of admiration and sympathy.

         //What a mess. Xander loves Buffy, Willow's got a crush on Xander,
and... well, I suppose Buffy and her friend Angel are okay, at least.// I
shook my head, and turned down Main toward the Bronze, feeling a million
years older than I had at the beginning of the evening. //Some things are
constant, no matter what the circumstances, I guess. I'm glad I'm not
sixteen anymore, that's for sure.... And I'm *so* glad we're still alive,
even if it does mean playing chaperone at the Spring Fling!//

         We could hear sounds of the celebration about a block away, and I
started to smile, finally beginning to believe it was all over with.

 *

 But the night's still young. :>> Go to part 6 to see the Spring Fling.

 Comments to [e-mail]         Christina

This story is posted on the web at :
http://www.enteract.com/~perridox/SunS.html



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

From: [e-mail] (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (3b/6)
Date: 15 Oct 1997 03:42:36, -0500

Major TYK's to Dianne DeSha for helping me resend this!

"Shadow of an Apocalypse" (3b/6)
by Christina Kamnikar
copyright 1997

         "Slayer," I repeated in a flat voice, still trying to assimilate
all the new information, trying to keep track of the players.

         "For each generation, there is one Slayer, a Chosen One---"

         "Like in the prophecy...."

         "Yes, as in the prophecy, who is born to stand againstthe
Dark...." A very small, tired smile actually managed to break through the
tension on his face, and his voice relaxed a little. "Buffy always says I
enjoy explaining this too much," he murmured, turning back to the weapons
locker.

         "Buffy... Summers?" The blonde, bouncy, smart-mouthed girl with
the cynical eyes? She was sixteen. Willow's best friend. She couldn't be
some supernatural dragonslayer. That wasn't possible. That was ridiculous.
I'd heard him wrong. Right?

         "Mmmm." But Rupert was nodding, frowning at the contents of the
locker again. "She's the Slayer." I blinked at him stupidly as he nattered
on, blithely oblivious to my reaction. "And a rather gifted one, at
that... The prophecy that she will face the Master tonight states that a
vampire, known simply as the 'Anointed One' will deliver her into hell and
into the Master's clutches... and she will die." His voice had turned
bleak and harsh; I couldn't see his face, shadowed in the recesses of the
cabinet.

        It suddenly hit me what all this feverish activity was about. Not
just saving the world---which is noble, and great, and I'm not knocking
it---but saving a kid we both knew from an ugly death. Like the kids in
the A/V room that morning; like Dave and Fritz.  I wanted to hug Giles at
that moment, I liked him so intensely. Not for fighting for an
intellectual principle, or the entire world, but for fighting for a girl
he liked and cared about. I took a deep breath, and straightened a bit, a
determination not to do any less than the Brit giving me focus.

         "Okay, so this Master guy tried to open the Hellmouth, but he got
stuck in it. But now all the signs are reading that he'll get out, which
opens the Hellmouth, which brings the demons, which ends the world," I
concluded, fairly certain I had a handle on the basics.

         "Yes, that sums it up. Yes," Rupert answered distractedly,
already absorbed in another sword he was testing.

         "The part that gets me is where Buffy is the vampire slayer.
She's so *little*," I blurted out, trying to imagine petite Buffy playing
Von Helsing with undead zombies, and failing totally.

         "Did you manage to get in touch with this Brother Luca chap?"
Giles asked, ignoring my comment, focused on the weapons he was collecting
again. If we were really facing the kind of Armageddon he was describing,
he was probably smart. Although way, way optimistic, if he thought they'd
really dent any demons....

         "Mmmm. No." I grimaced. "As far as I can tell, no one can. He's
disappeared. Did send out one last global, though. Short one."

         "What did it say?"

         "Isaiah 11:6, which I dutifully looked up---" I fumbled for the
King James, but I didn't get a chance to show off.

         Because Rupert interrupted me before I could read him the
quotation, obviously knowing it by heart already. "The wolf shall live
with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the kid, the calf, the lion
and the fatling... and a little child shall lead them all."

         "Kind of warm and fuzzy for a message of doom," I commented
doubtfully, although I was impressed by Rupert's memory.

         "That all depends on where he's leading them to," Rupert pointed
out, continuing his preparations. "Aurelius wrote of the Anointed One that
'the Slayer will not know him, and he will lead her into Hell.'"

         "So Luca thinks the Anointed is a kid," I commented, fighting
down nausea at the thought of a child-sized vampire. //I never _did_ like
Anne Rice....//

         Snobby raised his eyebrows, still preoccupied with the weapons.
"If the vampire Buffy killed was in fact not the Anointed One, it may well
be."

         "Well then, we need to warn her."

         "I don't intend involving her at all," Rupert said with perfect
detachment, calmly examining a ceremonial dagger on the table, then
putting it back into its sheath.

         I blinked at him, lost again. "What do you mean?"

         "Buffy's not going to face the Master," Giles quietly answered,
leaning against the table, looking me in the face for the first time in
several minutes; composed and seeming almost tranquil in his decision. A
chill ran up my spine at his expression.  "I am."

         //What?!// A protest was rising to my lips, along with the urge
to shake him until he got his sanity back, but I was forestalled by a
voice interrupting our discussion and startling both of us.

         "No, you're not." Buffy Summers strolled forward from the library
entrance; she must have been there for a while, but I'd been too caught up
in deciphering the prophecy and worrying about Snobby's mental health to
notice her. She looked lovely, her hair up in a tendriled ponytail, with a
black leather jacket thrown over a beautiful gauzy white prom gown. //The
Prom...// Surreality assaulted me again; the slender girl in front of me
couldn't be any kind of Chosen One, despite what Rupert said. The air of
fragile toughness about her was the same as that of any teenager, equal
parts bravado and real reckless bravery. Her next words still didn't
dispell my disbelief: "So, I'm looking for a kid, hunh? And he'll lead me
to the Master?"

         Rupert straightened, his expression taking on a warning cast.
"Buffy, I'm not going to send you out there to die." He had his hands on
his hips, mimicking Buffy's stance.  The similarities between them, the
body language of long acquaintance, started to sink in then; and I think
that's when I started being afraid, really afraid, and I began to believe
what Giles had told me about Buffy and the prophecy. "You were right, I've
waded about in those old books for so long, I've forgotten what the real
world is like." He set his jaw, stiff upper lip very much in evidence.
"It's time I found out."

         "You're still not going up against the Master," Buffy
contradicted him.

         "I've made up my mind," Snobby said obstinately.

         "So've I," Buffy rejoined, not budging an inch. I swallowed,
feeling left behind, left out, on the wrong page of the music; this was
about more than the end of the world, I could see that. They'd discussed
this before, disagreed about what to do, or what was going to happen---and
now Rupert was volunteering to take her place. And Buffy wasn't willing to
let him do that, when most kids would be whimpering with relief. Out of
affection, or a sense of responsibility, or sheer pigheadedness; and I
understood how Snobby could care about this kid enough to want to save her
for her own sake.

         "I made up mine first!" Rupert retorted, sounding like a
recalcitrant six-year-old.  "I'm older and wiser than you, and you will
just do what you're told for once!... All right?" His outrage lost a lot
of its strength on that last plea; I clenched my own jaw to keep myself
from interrupting. What was the right thing to do? //Stop this, we can't
just go along with this kind of destiny---// But I didn't like Rupert's
solution any better....

         Buffy gave a tiny headshake, smiling at Rupert with compassion,
and maybe a little bit of pity, and seeming in that instant much older
than sixteen.  "That's not how it goes. _I'm_ the Slayer."

         "I don't care what the books say. I defy prophecy, and I am
going. There's nothing you can say will change my mind," Rupert stated,
his outward calm doing nothing to mask the feeling behind his assertion.

         "I know." There was total acceptance and understanding in those
two words; and then tiny Buffy reached up nearly a foot and landed a right
cross Holyfield would have paid for <<smack!>> on Giles' jaw. The punch
practically lifted him off his feet, and I could just about see cartoon
birds circling his head as Snobby toppled over. I froze in shock for a
second, reflexively thinking //a-student-just-hit-a-teacher!// before I
could stop it, then I ran over to where Rupert was lying and lifted his
head into my lap, hoping he hadn't cracked his head on the floor as he
landed. When I looked up, Buffy was fastening a large cross that had lain
on the table around her neck, and then she picked up the crossbow.

         I was still in shock, I think, still playing catch-up, worried
about Snobby, scrambling to figure out what was going to happen next....
But I didn't doubt that Buffy was the Slayer any more.

         "When he wakes up tell him..." Buffy paused diffidently,
shrugging and looking rueful. "I don't know. Think of something cool, tell
him I said it."

         "If you face the Master, you'll die," I said. It was finally
sinking in. Lose-lose situation; if the prophecy was fulfilled, the Master
would get free, Buffy would die, and there was nothing I could do. If I
tried to stop her, she'd probably land a haymaker on *my* jaw.

         "Maybe." Buffy's voice thinned, and her expression became more
remote as she loaded the crossbow, then turned away from me. "Maybe I'll
take him with me."

         I watched her go, feeling helpless, knowing how much it would
hurt Giles when he woke up and realized she was gone, that he hadn't been
able to stop her.   I turned back to him, checking for extra bumps and
bruises, then went to get the First Aid kit in his office, feeling
desolate and shaky. All this time, they'd been fighting a war I didn't
even know about; and now, it seemed, I was just in time to join up for the
last engagement.

        I stared down at Rupert again, furious with him, admiring him, and
aching for what was to come. "You should have told me sooner," I
whispered. "I would have helped...." Too late for that, though. I just
prayed it wasn't too late to make a difference this one last time.

 *

 Christina           [e-mail]             }|{ Comments?



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

From: [e-mail] (Perri Smith)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Stranger (8/8)
Date: 15 Oct 1997 19:09:47 -0500 (CDT)

See disclaimer in part 1.

The Stranger (Part 8)
by Perri Smith
Copyright 1997

*****


Time passed. The police came in due course, after someone living near the
Bronze phoned in the reports of gunshots, but the group managed to avoid
them, slipping out through the fire exit and stumbling back to the
hospital.

Buffy stayed there for what was left of the night, falling almost instantly
into a heavy sleep in the chair at her mother's side.  Giles drove Willow
and Xander the few short blocks to their houses, all of them too tired to
contemplate the walk, then presumably went back to the hospital to look
after Buffy. Willow fielded her parents' questions as she came in, managed
to mumble out explanations and assurances that contented them, then fell
face first onto her bed and slept dreamlessly.

Rumors flew the next day at school, of gang shootouts and drug deals gone
bad, despite the fact that no bodies had been found at the Bronze. Only a
pile of dust and a single gun. Willow plowed her way through her classes,
fell asleep sitting up only once, and studiously avoided Ms. Calendar, who
saw way too much. A history test -- the one Buffy had found a way out of
after all -- passed in a blur, then it was back to the hospital, where
Buffy's mom was sitting up, talking and smiling and fussing about the
gallery and Buffy missing school.

She and the doctors finally shooed them all out, with assurances that
Buffy's mom could go home the next day, and Willow and Xander escorted
Buffy home. That night, as Willow listened soberly and more than a little
tearfully, Buffy told her about the gypsy curse that Angel carried, about
what Darla had been to him, and what he'd really done when he'd killed her.

"So, she was like, his girlfriend?"

Buffy sighed and shrugged, leaning back against her pillows wearily. There
were still circles under her eyes that no amount of sleep could erase.
"Girlfriend, mother, sister... I'm not sure. I think she was pretty much
everything, all the time he was, um.... like the rest of them."

Willow smiled understandingly from where she was curled up at the foot of
Buffy's bed. Her parents had been all in favor of a sleepover, as had Giles
-- no one thought Buffy should be staying home alone. Xander's offer to
join them for added security, however, had been roundly rejected.

"So he really isn't one of them anymore, is he?" Willow said, thinking of
Angel. "He's a good guy."

Buffy nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess he is. It's still... weird, though.
He's a vampire. I don't think I'm ever going to get used to that."

"Join the club," Willow muttered ruefully.

Buffy grinned unexpectedly, the first time she'd smiled in days. "I don't
think *Giles* is ever going to get used to it; he just can't deal with the
concept of a vampire actually *helping* the Slayer, much less saving her
life."

"He'll come around," Willow predicted with more confidence than she felt.
"So will Xander."

Buffy's smile faded. "If they get the chance."

Willow bit her lip and studied the bedspread intently. Two days, and it was
as if Angel had vanished when he'd left the Bronze. No lurking in corners,
no warnings, no nothing. They didn't even know if he was all right, if he'd
recovered from what Darla had done to him.

And Willow wanted to know almost as badly as Buffy did.

"Maybe he'll be at the Bronze tomorrow night," she offered hesitantly. "He
probably doesn't want to come here since you threw him out the window and
all."

Buffy winced. "God, I can't believe I did that. I can't believe I tried to
kill him. He probably saved my mom's life and I almost...."

"But you didn't." Willow cut her off firmly, having heard this particular
guilty gush three times in the last hour. "And he didn't exactly make it
easy for you to figure out what happened."

"But still...." Buffy stared out the window. "Willow, he killed her for me.
She said he loves me, and then he killed her for me. What do I... What can
I say to him after that?"

"I don't know," Willow admitted, way out of her league. She'd take her
nice, simple unrequited crush over this any day. "I wish I could help."

"You are helping," Buffy said quietly.

They sat in an awkward silence, then Willow cleared her throat. "Anyway,
you missed the subtle hint, which meant, you *are* coming to the Bronze
with us tomorrow night, aren't you?"

"I don't know.... It'll be Mom's first night home. I should stay with her."

Willow gave her a Look. "Buffy, she kicked you out of the hospital today
because you were driving her crazy. I don't think she'll mind if you go.
She'll probably push you out the door."

Buffy grinned reluctantly. "You're right, she will."

"So you'll go?" Willow persisted, leaning forward.

"All right, all right!" Buffy started laughing. "You are really stubborn,
you know that?"

Willow shrugged and grinned. "I've been taking lessons from the best."

Buffy made a face at her, then swatted her with a pillow. Willow instantly
retaliated, and all seriousness was utterly forgotten.

*****

The Bronze was rocking, relieved teenagers flocking the dance floor and
trying to make up for the four days of musical deprivation. The trio stood
in the entrance for a long minute, comparing the lively, cheerful place to
the grim emptiness of only a couple days before. This way was *much*
better, Willow decided.

"Ah, the Post-Fumigation Party," Xander breathed happily, apparently in
perfect agreement with Willow's thoughts.

"Okay, so what's the difference between this and the Pre-Fumigation Party?"
Buffy asked with amusement.

"Much hardier cockroaches," Xander shot back. Buffy rolled her eyes,
apparently realizing she'd walked into a *very* old Sunnydale joke. She
still seemed amused, though; a rousing pillow fight followed by a full
night's sleep in an actual bed had done wonders for her appearance and her
attitude. She looked almost normal, if still a bit distant.

"So, no word from Angel?" Willow asked for no reason. Then she caught a
glimpse of the reason, leaning against the far wall, watching the three of
them with eyes so intense Willow could almost feel them. Correction,
watching Buffy. She looked away quickly, not wanting to blow his cover if
he didn't want to be seen. They owed him that much, at least.

"Nah," Buffy said, making a small face and trying to pretend it didn't
matter. She completely blew the effect by wistfully adding, "It's weird
though. In a way, I feel like he's still watching me."

The hell with Angel's cover. "Well, in a way he sort of is," Willow gave
him away without another thought. "In the way that, he's right over there."

Buffy followed Willow's gesture and froze as her eyes locked with Angel's.
In a second, everyone else in the room disappeared for both the Slayer and
the vampire. Willow watched with interest and the slightest touch of envy
as Buffy walked to meet Angel on the dance floor, both moving as if they
were pulled together by an invisible string.

If Xander had been even a little less intent on being cool and mature, he'd
have been pouting. "I don't need to watch, because I'm not threatened," he
declared to no one in particular, seating himself with his back very
deliberately to the dance floor. "I'm just gonna look this way."

Willow smiled and seated herself opposite him, adjusting herself until she
had the best possible view. There was no way she was going to miss this --
now, if only she could lip read.

Not that it mattered much; Buffy and Angel's faces were speaking volumes.
Angel actually smiled once and Willow grinned in response -- he had a nice
smile. Then, slowly and inevitably, Angel leaned forward to kiss Buffy, and
Buffy wrapped herself in his embrace, oblivious to the crowds around them.
Willow sighed with vicarious happiness.

"What's going on?" Xander asked suspiciously, eyeing her.

"Nothing," Willow lied, straight-faced.

Xander smiled unconvincingly. "Well, as long as they're not kissing."

It was probably best not to answer that, so Willow didn't. The couple on
the dance floor moved apart slowly and reluctantly (to Willow's admittedly
biased eyes); with only a few more words, Buffy backed away from Angel, her
face sober. He stared after her as she left the dance floor, and, like two
nights before, only Willow saw what was in his eyes. But she could only
watch for a second before it felt like an invasion of privacy, and when she
looked back, he was gone.

Xander popped to his feet as soon as Buffy was within speaking range,
opening his mouth to say something possibly witty, and almost certainly
insulting towards Angel. But the look on her face stopped him before he
could get the words out.

Buffy was smiling a little, sadly, as if she'd just lost something really
valuable, and had already resigned herself to never getting it back. Her
eyes were very calm and steady, like they belonged to an entirely different
person -- someone much older than sixteen.

Xander hesitated, then, instead of saying anything, awkwardly put his arm
around Buffy in a silent gesture of support; she leaned her head against
his shoulder. Willow watched in helpless silence.

"Are... are you okay?" she asked finally.

"Sure," Buffy answered quietly and unconvincingly, straightening. Xander
took the hint and let his arm fall away, but stayed close to her. Willow
couldn't bring herself to mind. "We both... I know it would never work.
It's just... one of those things."

She sighed, fingering the cross at her throat, then grinned a little
crookedly, and was suddenly sixteen again. Suddenly Buffy again. "Sometimes
fate just sucks dead bunnies through a straw, you know?"

Willow returned the grin with sympathy and relief. "I hear you," she
agreed, rolling her eyes towards Xander.

He, of course, was oblivious, all of his attention on Buffy, but Buffy got
it and her smile widened a little. "Look, guys, I'm not really up for
partying tonight. Would you mind if we bailed?"

"Oh, hey, anywhere you want to go," Xander assured her instantly. "I'll...
um, *we'll* walk you home."

"Actually, I was kind of thinking more along the lines of Ben & Jerry's,"
Buffy admitted sheepishly. "I feel the need for a *major* chocolate binge."

"Ice cream it is, then." Xander slung his arm around her shoulders again,
but put the other around Willow this time, slipping into his adorable
'protective' mode. Willow was willing to settle for that; she put her arm
around his waist, on top of Buffy's, and snuggled in. "And will it be
Chunky Monkey for the ladies, or Triple Brownie Overload?"

"Chunky Monkey," Willow answered promptly, at the same time that Buffy
said, "Triple Brownie."

They were still debating the point as they left the Bronze and headed down
the street towards the ice cream bar, talking at the top of their lungs as
if they could drive the night away by sheer volume.

Willow lagged a few steps behind the other two, watching the shadows out of
the corner of her eye. She thought she saw one of them move, but didn't
worry about it; she was pretty sure she knew who was lurking there. On
impulse, she called out softly, "Good night, Angel."

There was no answer, but then, she hadn't expected one. So she just grinned
and kept walking.

She wasn't afraid of the shadows anymore; not as long as Angel was one of them.


Finis

Perri <[e-mail]>      I *am* the Buffy Evangalist!
NatPacker-*-Horsechick-*-Pretender-*-Cohenhead-*-DDEB2-*-AGA-*-SunS-*-CoJ
"I'm putting a collar with a little bell on that guy." -- Xander





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

From: [e-mail] (Perri Smith)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Stranger (7/8)
Date: 15 Oct 1997 19:09:27 -0500 (CDT)

See disclaimer in part 1.

The Stranger (Part 7)
by Perri Smith
Copyright 1997

*****

They made it as far as the hospital room before Willow stopped, hearing
Giles's voice from inside. He sounded upset, and looked even more so when
he came striding out of the room, already pulling his coat on.

"We have a problem," he announced, as the pair fell in step beside him.

"Tell us something we didn't know," Xander said.

Willow just looked seriously up at Giles, past the point of shock. "What
happened now?"

"I discovered who attacked Buffy's mother," Giles told them as they hurried
past the nurses' station and onto the elevator. "And it wasn't Angel."

"It wasn't?" Willow and Xander chorused in ragged, surprised unison.

"Then... who was it?" Willow asked.

"Someone called Darla, a vampire who presented herself as one of Buffy's
friends." Giles punched impatiently at the elevator button, as if that
would make it go faster. "She tricked Buffy's mother into inviting her
inside, and then... Damn! I should have seen this coming, I should have
taken precautions--"

"What precautions?" Willow asked sensibly, as the elevator doors opened at
last. Giles didn't bother to make sure they were following, or to head for
his car, just took off down the street at something close to a run. Xander
and Willow followed, Willow still arguing, "You didn't know someone
would... Oh, no." Her eyes went wide as the implications hit. "Then Angel
*isn't* the bad guy, he *didn't* hurt her mom, but Buffy's going to try to
kill him anyway! We have to stop her!"

"We do?" Xander blinked at her as well as he could while stumbling at a
near run down a pitch-black street. "I mean, we don't know Angel didn't--"

"Xander!"

"All right, all right!" Xander backed down. "Where are we going?"

"The Bronze," Giles told them over his shoulder without slowing. They
didn't have any time to spare. Buffy had been gone for almost an hour, more
than enough time to....

Willow forced the thought away and raced after Giles as he pushed his way
through the underbrush, using a shortcut Willow hadn't even known existed.
"We're near the Bronze," she panted, recognizing the buldings through the
trees. "What now?"

"We keep looking for her."

"I've got a question," Xander spoke up from the rear. "What if we find her,
and she's fighting Angel and some of his friends. What the heck are we
gonna do about it?"

Good question. A really good question. But not one Willow really wanted to
hear. They'd do *something*, that was all that mattered.

The Bronze was dark and deserted when they broke out of the trees and onto
the parking lot. The fumigation hadn't been finished yet, so there were no
lights, no music. It looked creepy as sin, even to someone who *wasn't*
busy trying not to picture what was probably happening inside.

Giles tried the side doors, which were locked, of course. No matter how
much time they spent inside, never *once* had they been able to get into
the Bronze when it was really important. There was a certain amount of
irony in that, but Willow wasn't in any condition to appreciate it.

"Xander, try the front," Giles ordered sharply, throwing his weight against
the side door again. "Willow, the upper level, where Buffy got in during
the Harvest."

"Right." They both started to split off towards their assignments, before a
sudden, sharp *crack*, instantly recognizable to anyone who'd ever seen
NYPD Blue, stopped them in their tracks. "Did you just hear...?" Xander
asked nervously.

Yes, they had. Giles had gone from upset to downright grim and Xander
looked like he'd be panicking if it wouldn't ruin his 'cool' image. Willow
swarmed up the fire escape faster than she'd known she could move, and
found the fire door standing open, the lock broken. Buffy had been through
here, all right. She gestured frantically to the other two, then ducked
through the door, crouching low to stay out of sight.

Because they weren't alone.

Voices echoed through the club eerily, bouncing off the concrete walls. A
woman's voice, smug, irritating, familiar. The twang of a crossbow and
Willow held her breath as she looked over the railing, hoping to see a pile
of dust.

Instead, she saw a blonde vampire, her face fright masked and a gun in each
hand, looking down at a crossbow bolt that stuck out of her stomach. Buffy
was hastily reloading and, in the shadows behind them both, Angel dragged
himself up from the floor, clutching another bolt lodged in the wall beside
him, his face a mask of pain.

"Close," the blonde vampire said smugly. "But no heart." She dragged the
bolt out of her stomach with a grunt, then threw it away casually and
lifted her guns again. She fired, the shots echoing like cannon.

"We need to distract her," Xander said urgently. "Fast."

Willow didn't stop to think how dumb it was, or how unprotected they were.
She filled her lungs and shouted with all her might, "Buffy, it wasn't
Angel who attacked your mom, it was Darla!"

It distracted the vampire, all right. Darla turned and fired up at their
balcony. Xander and Willow bellyflopped as Giles wormed his way across the
floor to one of the Bronze's battered lightboards.

Beneath them, Darla jumped up on top of a pool table, and began strolling
along it, confidently, unstoppably stalking the Slayer who hid at the other
end.

A little too confidently, as it turned out. Buffy jumped up from her hiding
place and jerked the heavy table forward as if it weighed nothing. Darla
lost her balance and fell backwards as Buffy shoved the table away from her
as hard as she could, nearly dumping herself on the floor in the process.
Flat on her back on the moving table, Darla fired wildly from both guns,
keeping the Slayer down. Buffy wound up behind the bar and the dubious
protection of the counters and cabinets.

The table stopped and Darla regained her composure, swinging her feet to
the ground and walking forward towards Buffy, firing carelessly, as if she
didn't care who or what she hit.

Probably, she didn't. Willow recognized her now, the blond vampire who had
kidnapped Jesse, who had tried to kill Giles in the Bronze what seemed like
a lifetime ago. Willow had stopped her that second time, but there was no
holy water, no weapons now. Nothing to do but watch as the bullets pounding
into the bar, shattering glass all around Buffy's hiding place. She tried
not to think of how that first encounter with Darla had ended, of Jesse
turned into one of the monsters they'd been fighting. Of Jesse lying in a
pile of ash....

A sudden slam beside her startled Willow out of her grim thoughts. Giles
had lost patience with the lightboard and begun pounding it into the table
and, where care hadn't worked, brute force did. The lights flickered, then
began to strobe. As Darla blinked in confusion, Buffy raced for better
cover.

Darla adjusted quickly, filtering out the distractions to focus in on her
target. With sinking dread, Willow realized the vampire was done with
playing games. "Come on, Buffy," Darla sneered. "Take it like a man."

Xander's eyes were focused on Buffy, as if he could will the bullets to
bounce off of her. Giles was still fussing with the lightboard, trying to
make it produce something useful. Buffy was hidden, and Darla had her back
turned.

So Willow was the only one to see the tall form separate himself from the
shadows, the crossbow bolt he'd used to pull himself to his feet now
clutched in his hand. And she was the only one to see him lift his arm to
bury the bolt in Darla's unprotected back, straight into her heart.

The vampire staggered under the force of the blow. Bending under whatever
it was vampires felt before they died, she turned, staring up at Angel with
betrayed, disbelieving eyes. For a moment, she looked almost human.

"Angel?" she whispered. It was all she could say before she fell, her body
collapsing to dust before she reached the boards. One gun clattered to rest
on the floor; nothing else remained.

Everything seemed to have stopped moving, only the lights strobing in their
relentless rhythm. Willow had stopped breathing; she could only see Angel's
face, caught half in shadow, half in light. Buffy stepped out from her
cover, staring at Angel with wide, amazed eyes. He looked back at her, his
face blank and his eyes eloquent, although Willow had no idea what he was
saying. Somehow, she thought Buffy would know.

Slowly, Angel turned and walked back into the darkness, staggering a little
as he went, leaving the four mortals to stare after him.


Perri <[e-mail]>      I *am* the Buffy Evangalist!
NatPacker-*-Horsechick-*-Pretender-*-Cohenhead-*-DDEB2-*-AGA-*-SunS-*-CoJ
"I'm putting a collar with a little bell on that guy." -- Xander





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

From: Lisa Rose <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: 50 Ways to Bleed Your Lover
Date: 17 Oct 1997 13:06:28 -0700

50 WAYS TO BLEED YOUR LOVER

(To the tune of "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover" by Paul Simon)

Your problem is simply too much soul, sweet Darla said
The answer will come as I give neck instead of head
I'd like to help you on your way to being dead
There must be fifty ways to bleed you, lover

She said it's really not the worst of worlds, I guess
For with strength and life eternal I'll erotically you bless
Now let's repeat the act, though it may create a mess
'Cause I have fifty ways to bleed my lovers
Fifty ways to bleed my lovers

Chorus: I'll sip on your wrist, Chris
        Bite on your neck, Rex
        Drink from your vein, Wayne
        Until you're like me
        I'll siphon your heart, Bart
        It's all part of my dark art
        Just taste of my blood, Judd
        And let your soul flee

She said there will be several moments of raw pain
But it's good because it helps us all to feel alive again
You'll soon appreciate that,
Now listen as I explain all the fifty ways...

She said the time has come to drink on this tonight
And I believe in the morning you'll begin to fear the light
Then she sucked me, and I shivered 'cause she probably was right
There must be fifty ways to bleed your lover
Fifty ways to bleed your lover

Chorus

(Lyrics copyright 1997 by Lisa Rose;
title inspired by Jim)
http://www.wco.com/~cybrpaws/lilbuffy.html



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

From: [e-mail] (Annanara a.k.a Anna)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Graveside Goodbye
Date: 17 Oct 1997 16:36:58 EDT

Graveside Goodbye
by Annanara

Disclaimer:  I don't own any of the BtVS chracter, Joss Whedon and the WB
do.
The lyrics are from A Celtic Tale: The Legend of Deirdre by Michael and
Jeff
Danna.


Xander stood among the many stones that made up the forest-like
atmosphere of the Sunnydale Cemetery.  He gazed longingly at the
darkening sky which had once been a beautiful blue earlier.  The day had
been obscenely clear, crisp, and breezy with a hint of Fall coolness in
the air.  But now...now the sun was setting, covering the sky in a blood
red.

She had asked that it be done after sunset.  She knew asking such would
be dangerous, but it was for the benefit of one member of their group.
One who couldn't be here till the sun was safely below the horizon.  She
had wanted him to be present, she wanted them -all- to be present, for
she knew that we'd need each other now more than ever.

But, she was the person he needed more than ever.  She was always what he
needed and now she was gone.  She was his heart, his soul, his home, and
now she was gone forever.  She would never be returning, she would never
surprise him when he wasn't paying attention, and she would never know
exactly how much she meant to him.

In skies of frozen snow
Where winds of sadness roam
Red's sun burning low
You were my home
Where I would go

The small group huddled closer as the sun sank below the horizon.  He
would never see another sunset with her again.  Never hold her close.
Never wrestle with her or tackle her on a sunny weekend with the rest of
her friends.

Xander watched the last tendrils of light retreat, the immaculate green
grass becoming dark.  It reflected the feelings in his heart.  It all
seemed so unreal, so unnatural.  A dark, horrible mistake.  A nightmare
come true.  But the longer he stared at the tombstone before him, he knew
it was no dream.

In green fields
Now unknown
Your name upon
The standing stone

Angel arrived a few moments later, dressed in black as always.  He had
with him a yellow rose.  The rose of friendship.  He laid it carefully
upon the fresh grave.  She had been buried earlier in the day, but in an
unofficial will she had requested that we have this private gathering.
She was always thinking of others, why couldn't she have thought about
herself for just one moment?  If she had, he was sure that she'd possibly
still be around today.  If only she hadn't tried to help him.  If only he
hadn't gotten careless for one moment...

Love invites
One last call
When death from life
Begins to fall

One of the vampires had been slowly backing him into a corner.  It held a
stake clutched in it's hand, ready to bring it down on him.  He started
reaching out blindly for things to throw at it.  She had seen his trouble
and rushed over to help him.

He stumbled backwards, turning his back to the vampire for one second.
The vampire raised it's arm and brought the stake down, but before it hit
him, she pushed him out of the way screaming his name.  The stake dropped
right down through her chest.

He never did find out who staked the vampire, but it turned to ashes as
he held her in his arm.  All he could think was that his love was dying.
He smoothed back her hair, the blood on his hands blending into her hair
easily.  Rocking her gently, he was desperate to believe that she wasn't
really dying, that she'd miraculously heal before his eyes.  He knew it
wasn't going to happen, but all he could do was hope.

They all knew there was no way she would survive long enough for help.
And she knew best of all.  She had put a bloody finger up to his lips,
shushing him.  Giving him the sweetest and saddest smile he had ever
seen, she whispered, "I love you, Xander."  He replied that he loved her
and her smile was so bright it was hard to believe she was dying.  Her
eyes slowly fluttered, then shut for the final time.  He felt her body
relax and could have sworn he felt a cold rush as her spirit left.

He screamed in pain and outrage.  She was truly gone.  He continued to
rock her body in his lap, gazing upon the gentle face of his love.  Her
face had a faint smile as if she had died happily.  If it weren't for the
blood and the stake in her tiny body, it looked as if she had simply
fallen asleep.

She should be asleep, he had thought.  She should be in bed, far away
from all this.  She shouldn't have risked her life...and lost.

The streams no longer go
To tides of distant seas
No love can grow old
Without memories
Your arms my home
Where I would sleep

The tears came again, falling unashamed as he looked upon her tombstone.
He fell to his knees before the grave and cried.

How can I live without you? he silently cried.  I don't want to be
without you!  I need someone to show me how to do my math, to prod me to
do my work, to be there when nobody else is.  I needed you to stay, so I
could sort out my feelings about you.  To know if there could have been
something more...

Tears
Now unfold
How can I now
Alone grow old
Dusty Stars
Shed their lights
When death from life
Slips silently to the night

The night became darker and the danger increased.  The moon lit up the
graveyard, shining it's light upon such a dark occasion.  As he cried,
Buffy came up behind him, putting a comforting arm around him.  Giles
knelt on his other side, Ms. Calendar standing behind him.  Cordelia even
rested a hand on his shoulders, as did Angel.  Eventually everyone was
crying in a group hug, supporting each other.  They were all painfully
aware of the one person who should be with them and wasn't.  That loss
made them all hold on to each other that much tighter.

The group slowly dispersed, Buffy and Angel staying behind to make sure
Xander got home safely.  They left Xander at the grave and walked a
discreet distance away, giving him a private moment.

Xander studied the marble tombstone one last time before leaving; his
hand following the carved letters of her name.  The light of the moon
made it so easy to see the inscription...

Willow Ann Rosenberg
November 26, 1980 - October 15, 1997
Beloved Daughter and Friend
The End

Yes, I know it's sad, but I couldn't help myself.  I was listening to the
song and this story just came to mind.  Let me know what you thought!

Annanara
GASPer, Keeper of Giles' Skip
"That went well.  I think." <skip> --Giles, SAR
Keeper of Willow's Box of Raisins



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

From: Jesse Jou <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: PARODY LYRIC:  Unnatural Demon
Date: 17 Oct 1997 17:23:10 -0400

I've reconceived one of the final scenes of Prophecy Girl.  It's almost
like a music video now.
The song is sung to the tune of Carole King's "Natural Woman,"  which is
most often played very freely rhythmically to allow vocal embellishment,
hence the imperfect scansion.

JJ

Master:  "You?  You're dead!"

Buffy:  "I may be dead, but at least I'm pretty."

Master:  "You were to have died; it was written!"

Buffy:  "What can I say?  I flunked the written."

(music starts, as they begin to fight)

Looking for
A little evening's pain,
I used to be much inspired.

And when I knew,
I'd never see the light of day
'Cuz it'd make me feel on fire.

Before the day I bit you.
Unlife was no surprise,
But your blood was the key to my recent rise.

Cuz you set me free,
You set me free
You set me free
I'm
Unnatural
Demon.

Ohh, Buffy, what you do to me.
(what you do to me)
You let me out of a sunken vault
(a sunken vault)
And I'm just taunting thee
(taunting thee)
Hey, what's with that Xena-like somersault?

Chorus
(improvising as the music fades out)
Unnatural Demon

You set me free.

You know, you set me free!

Cuz you set me free; I'm Unnatural Demon.

Unnatural Demon.
(music ends)

Buffy:  "You're that amped about Hell?  Why don't you go there?"





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

From: sah <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: ADMIN:  List rules
Date: 20 Oct 1997 11:53:16 -0500

Welcome!  This list is for fiction related to "Buffy The Vampire
Slayer," both the TV series and the movie.  To ensure that we all get
to enjoy as much fiction as possible, please adhere to the following
guidelines, and please save them for future reference.

1. Fiction should have Buffy characters in it and clearly be related
to Buffy.  Crossovers are great, and expected, but general
vampire/monster stories that aren't in the Buffy universe and don't
use Buffy characters belong somewhere else.

2. Discussion of posted fiction is permitted onlist.  Please put
"DISCUSS" in your subject line.  Requests for missing story parts
should go directly to the author, and not be posted to the list.

Discussion that is not related directly to the fiction should go over
to the general Buffy list.  Discussion of fiction is expected to
follow common netiquette guidelines and use PG-13 language.

3. No advertising of <any> items or services, Buffy related or not,
and no posting of non-story items such as .gifs, sound files, etc..
No attached files of <any> kind-- if your mailer makes your fiction
into attached files, you need to find another way to get it to the list.

4. If you're writing a story and including advance information on a
new episode, and you're posting your story earlier than the national
viewing time, please:

     **Mark the post as a "spoiler" in the subject header.
     **Leave about twelve lines (blank or with non-spoiler info) at
          the top of the post.

This ensures that anyone who doesn't like knowing about an episode
ahead of time is "protected."  :)   The blank space is for people whose
mailers automatically open up the next piece of mail, without giving
them a chance to see "spoiler" in the header.

Spoiler warnings are not necessary after the start of the episode's
national viewing time, which is currently set at 9 p.m. Mondays,
Eastern Standard Time.  Spoiler warnings are not necessary for reruns.

5.  This list is absolutely NOT for erotic fiction.  <Nothing> stronger
than sexually PG-13 material is to be posted to the list under any
circumstances.  A story may be R rated for violence or language,
however.

If you have a question about something's suitability for posting, feel
free to ask one of the listowners.  Sending sexually explicit material
will get you immediately and permanently unsubscribed.  No exceptions.

6.  By subscribing and/or posting to this list, you acknowledge that
Buffy the Vampire slayer and all characters associated with either
the televised series or the motion picture were created by Josh Whedon
and are owned by Mutant Enemy productions, Kuzui Productions,
Sandollar Productions, and 20th Century Fox.  All stories posted to
this list are for entertainment purposes only, are not sold for profit
of any kind, and are not intended to infringe on any copyrights.

7.  When posting stories to the list, please follow the following
formatting guidelines
--No story parts longer than 250 lines
--No lines longer than 75 characters
--Turn off your "smart quotes"-- many readers receive these as garbage
or weird symbols
--Put the title of the story in the subject header, indicate if it's a
multipart story, and if so what part this is.  Example:   Buffy Meets
Godzilla (2/65) indicates that this post is part two of a 65 part story.

8. If a story is rated "R" for language/violence, indicate this in an
introduction.  For example, "There's a really bloody fight scene at
the end of this part" or "if you don't like dismemberment, stop
reading now!"  If there's <any> chance that someone might be disturbed
by something in your story (even if it's not rated R) please include
some kind of warning up front.

9.  And last, but not least, the listowners reserve the right to deny
subscription (new, renewed, or continued) to the list for any
individual(s).

PLEASE NOTE:  not following any or all of these rules will get you
the following:

**First offense:  offender is unsubscribed for one week.
**Second offense:  offender is unsubscribed to the Buffyfic list for a
minimum of three months.
**If the offender returns and does it again, they're offlist
permanently.

As noted above, posting sexually explicit material is the exception --
you go straight to permanent unsubbing.

Again, welcome!  If  you have any questions about these rules, please
contact either one of us offlist.  If you have subscription problems or
questions, the fastest way to get help is to e-mail one of us at the
addresses below, <not> at the [e-mail] addy which is the
"official" e-mail owner of the list.

Jill Kirby ([e-mail])
 &
Sharon Himmanen ([e-mail])
Listowners, Buffy the Vampire Slayer Fiction List
[e-mail]



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

From: Lisa Rose <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: 5 New "Little Buffy" Movies!
Date: 20 Oct 1997 13:38:57 -0700

Five new "Little Buffy" Movie descriptions have just been added
to the "movie" section under "Little Buffy's Recreation" at the
Little Buffy Site: http://www.wco.com/~cybrpaws/lilbuffy.html

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

 6.  BUFFY AND THE BEAST - A wild and happy-go-lucky vampire is
     cursed by bitter gypsies with the return of his guilt-ridden human
     soul. Now he spends all his days brooding in a lonely apartment.
     Only the freely given love of a beautiful young woman (the town's
     slayer) can lift the curse and return him to his former crazy and
     carefree ways. At which point she'll have to kill him....

 7.  FROM HERE TO FRATERNITY - Young Alex Harris (Frank Sinatra), a
     poor kid from the wrong end of town, is dying to belong to the local
     college's elite fraternity, Kamma Feeda Kobra. Nothing would
     impress his critical father more. After an exotic and seductive drag
     routine for the frat brothers during pledge week, he finally gets his
     coveted invitation. His first pledge task, however, is to feed the
     fraternity's friendly reptilian mascot ('Mackie') it's "special diet" down
     in its basement home. Soon, Alex is conflicted. Sure, the free beer
     and sorority girls are great, but are they really worth his mortal soul?
     It's a tough call! Maybe some peer counseling is in order here?

 8.  101 HYENAS - Sunnydale High's militant Vegetarian Club (just over
     a hundred strong) decides to protest at the City Zoo because live
     racehorses (just past their prime) are being fed to the zoo's
     mysterious new hyenas. An unfortunate scuffle between
     demonstrators and zoo security guards at the edge of the hyena pit,
     however, triggers a tragic transpossession from the hyenas to the
     club members. In a cruel twist of irony, these former animal lovers
     and meat-refusers are now reduced to gorging themselves on stolen
     hotdogs, terrifed school mascots, and ultimately, their own stunned
     school principal (whose bitter aftertaste no amount of carrot juice
     will ever wash away!).

 9.  VAMPIRE RECORDS - The teen salesclerk behind the cash register
     sports a deathly pallor and crimson lips. Just another goth-kid
     working for minimum wage? Guess again! The bloodsuckers who
     operate this CD outlet are out to drain their customers of more than
     just their hard-earned entertainment dollars! Why hasn't the fact that
     the joint has no windows to the outside nor security mirrors tipped
     anyone off yet? Sure, they have great selection and are open till
     midnight. But God help any shoppers left in the store at closing time!

10.  SIXTEEN BLOWTORCHES - Samantha (Molly Ringwald) is a young
     slayer whose duty has destroyed her social life to the point that she is
     spending her sixteenth birthday all by herself. As she prepares to
     blow out the candles on her cake, her cute brooding vampire friend,
     Jakelus (Michael Schoeffling), bursts in to warn her that sixteen
     vicious vampires are coming to "crash" her little party. Rest assured,
     they'll want to consume a bit more than cake! As the vamps smash
     through her picture window, Samantha thinks quickly and whips out
     a can of hairspray from her purse, spraying it over the burning
     candles to create a searing blastfurnace of birthday incineration. And
     Voila! Sixteen crispy vamp-kabobs for party latecomers Xander
     "The Geek" Harris (Anthony Michael Hall) and little sister Sara
     (Alyson Hannigan) to enjoy! At least the day wasn't a *total* disaster.




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

From: Lisa Rose <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: 1 More "Little Buffy" Movie Description
Date: 20 Oct 1997 22:25:28 -0700

11.  DESPERATELY SEEKING DARLA - Angelus the Vampire has been
     released from that pesky gypsy curse that restored his human
     soul by the liberating love of a beautiful young slayer whom he
     suckered into falling for him.  Now with the curse and the slayer
     out of the way, he frantically searches for his old partner in
     crime, his former supernatural squeeze, Darla, the "Belle of
     Budapest."  His excitement grows as he races to the underground,
     eager to re-consummate their relationship, already hearing her
     deadly dulcet tones again in his mind.  Then he halts in horror,
     remembering to his dismay that he *killed* her.  Doh!


(title suggested by Jim)
----------------------

Lisa
http://www.wco.com/~cybrpaws/lilbuffy.html



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

From: Jesse Jou <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Kudos on the movies.  I'm LOL
Date: 21 Oct 1997 16:52:10 -0400

Lisa-

I don't know if I've told you how much I loved the movie descriptions yet,
but I do.  You truly have a gift for Buffy promotion.  You should be
pitching these to some heartless Hollywood exec, eh?

I did inspire me to think of these, though:

Maiming Amy
Kevin Smith directs in this last of his "Sunnydale Trilogy" movies.  Holden
(Nicholas Brendon) thinks he's found the perfect girl in Alyssa (Sarah
Michelle Gellar), but finds that her sordid past as a Vampire Slayer
bothers him a little more than his liberal Generation X mindset will let
him admit.  Also in the picture is Holden's best friend, Banky (Alyson
Hannigan), a bitter 20 something who's jealous of Alyssa's hold on Holden
and whose caustic asides and uncovering of Alyssa's vampire slaying past
drives a wedge between the young lovers.  Director Smith also makes a cameo
as Loquacious Jackson, the character he created in the first two movies of
the trilogy, and who delivers some poignance in telling the story behind
the movie's title of "maiming Amy."

The Color Scarlet
Director:  Steven Spielberg, Adapted from the novel by Alice Walker.  Buffy
(Whoopi Goldberg) is a disadvantaged Slayer living in 1920's Sunnydale.
Married to an abusive vampire (David Boreanaz), Buffy befriends her
husband's mistress, Shug (Julie Benz), searching for the comfort long
missing from her marriage.  Nicholas Brendon, Alyson Hannigan, Oprah
Winfrey, and Sarah Michelle Gellar (as young Buffy) round out the all-star
cast.  Join Buffy on her voyage to self-discovery as Spielberg deftly
crafts a movie of exquisite beauty from the eloquent words of Alice Walker.

(movie clip:  Ext.  a car pulls away from the front of a house as Buffy
yells from the backseat, "I may be a woman!  I may be a Slayer!  But I'm
here!"  Her husband looks on, baffled.)

Disney's Buffy the Vampire Slayer
In its 65th animated feature, Walt Disney Studios takes on the legend of
Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  Disney animators have worked round-the-clock for
over 2 years to create the memorable characters in Disney's Buffy.  "We
knew right away,"  says director Gary Wise, "that we had to use the
original novelization by Richie Tankerley Cusick as a basis for this movie,
but otherwise, we had carte blanche in making it a story that we'd all want
to see."  Characters who have scored high with test audiences are the
reconceived Buffy (voiced by Melissa Joan Hart, sung by Deborah Gibson), as
a medieval princess who gives up her slayer powers to win the love of
handsome Prince Xander (voiced and sung by Jonathan Taylor Thomas), and her
vampire bat sidekick, Angelus (voiced by Nathan Lane).  Production has been
plagued by fans of Buffy, the television series, who have criticized Disney
for creating a product that bears no resemblance to its original source
material.

Birchwood
Willow Rosenberg (Alyson Hannigan) is a struggling fashion design student
in Chicago, whose modest and mousy designs make her the scorn of the jetset
until her indomitable spirit gets her noticed by a possessive photographer
(Anthony Perkins, in his final performance) who renames her "Birchwood."
Willow, now Birchwood, soars to the heights of the fashion world, becoming
one of the most powerful supermodels in the world.  However, fame and
glamour take their toll, and Birchwood soon notices that a number of her
supermodel friends are developing terminal cancers.  Can it be the effects
of radiation given off by the local Hellmouth?  Birchwood becomes a
passionate spokesmodel for Hellmouth safety, stepping on the toes of the
rich and powerful, until her mysterious death in an automobile accident.
Was she murdered?  That's what Xander Harris (Billy Dee Williams), a
nuclear plant employee and aspiring Chicago politico, wants to find out.
Featuring the Oscar-nominated song, "Theme from Birchwood (Do You Know What
You're Hacking Through?)"

okay.  I'll stop now.

JJ
[e-mail]





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

From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: A Walk Along The Beach 1/4
Date: 21 Oct 1997 15:28:28 -0700

Title: A Walk Along The Beach
Author: NuPhalanx
E-Mail Address: [e-mail]
Distribution: Anya, of course. Others, please ask.
Spoiler Warning: Invisible Girl
Rating: PG13
Summary: Buffy and her mom have a road trip planned.
Characters: Buffy/Joyce/Giles/Other

Disclaimer: This story is based on the series created by Joss Whedon. No
infringement of any copyright stuff is intended. Rating: PG/PG13 Thank
you all who sent me feedback, and a special thank you to Melinda,
whose comments resulted in this version.


A walk along the beach
ver3                                      (part one)

Sunnydale Ca.     August 2, 1997

     The sun was just slightly over the hills when her alarm went
off. Buffy groaned and slapped the silence button. As she pulled the
comforter over her head, she heard her mother call from below.

"Buffy! I heard that alarm go off. IÆve got breakfast ready. WeÆve a lot
of driving to do so letÆs get a move on!"

Buffy flung the comforter aside and sat up, stretching and yawning. Her
mother had been planning this trip for three weeks. It would be just her
and Mom cruising up the Pacific Coast Highway and having lunch near
Carmel. Buffy had to admit that she was happy to be doing something with
her mom. But getting up at sunrise was never any fun.

    As she hurriedly pulled on some jeans and a top, she made sure
that she had several stakes and a few other weapons in her bookbag. A
Slayer could never be too careful, after all. WouldnÆt Giles be proud of
me, she thought.

    Her mother had an omelet ready for her. Yawning, Buffy sat down
and started eating.

    "ItÆs going to be a gorgeous day,"  Mrs. Summers said, watching
CNNÆs forecast. Buffy found it hard to call any day gorgeous at this
hour.

    "It will be for some of us," Buffy replied. Mrs. Summers frowned
and turned to look at her daughter.

 "I know you kids like to hang out with each other on the weekends, but I
would like to have at least one day for just the two of us." Her mom left
the kitchen to get her things for the trip. When she returned to the
kitchen, Buffy had finished her breakfast and was putting the dishes in
the dishwasher. She looked up at her mom.

 "Sorry, mom. I know how hard it is for you to get away from the Gallery.
IÆm just a little tired."

"You can catch a nap in the car if you want. Are you ready to go?"

    The Slayer smiled. "IÆll get my bag." Buffy met her mother at the
back door and watched as her mom locked it. She settled back into the
seat as her mother backed out and headed for the highway. Grabbing a
jacket from the back seat, she used it for a pillow as she tried to take
a nap.

Pacific Coast Highway     25 miles north of Sunnyvale

    Joyce Summers glanced over at her daughter and smiled. ÆNever get
a teenager up before noon on a Saturday,Æ she thought. Buffy had been
asleep since they had turned onto the highway. æAnd just yesterday you
were all of twelve years old, a little shy, and nervous about going to a
new school. Of course, your father and I having that argument the night
before hadnÆt helped things very much, either. I know youÆre not happy
with just the monthly visits with your father,Æ Mrs. Summers thought,
Æbut it has worked out for the three of us. I just hope you understand
that both of us still love you very much.Æ
    Looking at the signs near the side of the road, she saw that it
would be about another two hours until they reached Carmel. æShe should
be a little less tired in an hour or so,Æ Mrs. Summers thought.
She looked at Buffy again. She smiled and thought: æTeenagers.Æ

Carmel

    The two of them were  picking out sunglasses from a rack in a
convenience store when Buffy noticed the woman for the first time. She
was about five feet five inches tall, with bright red hair done in a
layered shag. The woman was wearing a khaki jumpsuit and carrying a black
bookbag. But what she really noticed was her eyes - ice blue. Their eyes
locked for a few seconds, and Buffy noticed that those eyes were
expressionless - no sense of anything that might be behind them. Her face
held an expression Buffy couldnÆt comprehend - expectancy, maybe, and
something else.

The woman glanced at something across the store, then brushed past Buffy
and walked out of the store. BuffyÆs spine started tingling as the woman
moved past her, and Buffy almost found herself drawing a stake from the
sheathe on her left arm - except it wasnÆt there, of course. The feeling
lessened after a few minutes, but Buffy still shuddered at the intensity
- just like when she was getting close to something during the hunt.

"Creepy," Buffy muttered to herself.

    "Did you say something, honey?" her mother asked.

Buffy shook her head. "No, I was just talking to myself." Buffy had a
strange feeling about that woman - the same feeling she had when Angel
would be watching her. She shook her head again. Relax, she told herself.
YouÆre getting a little too sensitive. Her mother was saying something to
her.

"What? Sorry, I was thinking about something."

    "I can see that. Is it that boy, Angel?"

    Buffy looked away for a minute, then replied "Something like
that. I just saw someone who reminded me of someone." How lame can you
get, moron!?

    "ItÆs okay if you donÆt want to talk about him. Just remember,
you can always talk to me about anything, OK?" Buffys mom made sure she
had her daughters attention. "And at any time," she added.

    Buffy smiled at that. æNot quite anything,Æ she thought to
herself. æWhat would you think if you knew what my life is really like?Æ

"Are you ready to go? I know IÆm hungry, and since you only ate about
half of that omelet, I bet you are, too."

    Leaving the sunglasses behind, they walked out of the store and
got into the car. Pulling out of the parking lot, they turned onto the
street and headed for the beach, which was only a few blocks away.

On a beach, near Carmel

    Her mother had packed a cooler with the usual picnic goodies -
sandwiches, chips, some fresh fruit. They had found an isolated spot on a
small rocky outcropping overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Buffy had spread a
large blanket for them to sit on, and they ate in silence as they watched
the waves batter the rocks. Mrs. Summers noticed that Buffy once again
had that far away look in her eyes.

"Still thinking about that boy?," she inquired, inwardly smiling at Buffy
as she lowered her eyes before looking at her mom. Buffy started to say
something, stopped, then tried again.

"Mom, did I have anything to do with you and Dad breaking up? I mean, I
know I did some weird things at my old school, but I never  have been
sure that I didnÆt have something to do with it."

The suddenness of the question startled Joyce. She started to speak,
hesitated, then continued.

"Oh, honey," Mrs. Summers replied, drawing Buffy close. "I thought we had
worked that out before we came to Sunnydale." She took BuffyÆs face in
her hands and looked into her daughters eyes. Haunted, distressed eyes.
"How long has this been bothering you?"

    Buffy sniffed slightly, then continued to talk. "I just had some
bad dreams about it, I guess. Is my insecurity showing?," she said,
wiping her eyes as she looked out over the ocean.

    Her mother smiled. "Just a little. Buffy, your father and I just
grew apart. I know it hasnÆt been easy on you, but we decided that it
would we better if we had a divorce. We both love you, and I wish you had
said something about this sooner." She looked out across the ocean,
hoping for some comforting words to come to mind. Since nothing came up,
she shrugged inwardly and decided to fake it. æHere goes,Æ she thought.

    "We both want whatÆs best for you. If you want to change
anything, please tell me. I would understand if you wanted to go back to
your fatherÆs early. IÆd really like to spend a few weeks with you, but
you can do whatever will make you happy."

Buffy ventured a small smile. "We would probably drive each other nuts. I
just had to hear it from you again, about what happened between you and
dad. I just couldnÆt bear the thought of being responsible for any
trouble between the two of you." æI have caused enough trouble for what
few friends I have,Æ she thought. æI hope I can make it up to them
someday.Æ

"Buffy, you are the most joyous thing in my life. Life has a way of going
on, even through the bad times. Never, never think you were responsible
for what happened between myself and your dad." Mrs. Summers stood up and
looked down the beach. "Now, are you up to a walk?"

Buffy smiled and stood up. "Lead on," she said. As they walked down the
beach, mother and daughter held each other around the waist, laughing as
they shared a joke.

Further up the beach, unnoticed by either of them, a red-haired figure
watched Buffy and her mother as they stopped to examine some seashells.
She appeared to be studying Buffy intently. After watching for another
minute, she sat down on a nearby bench and pulled a notebook computer
from her backpack. Opening the screen and turning the power on, she
started typing. The screen had the following characters on it:

"Journal Entry - 2Aug97 - I believe I have found the Slayer"


        End Part One.



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

From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: A Walk Along The Beach 2/4
Date: 21 Oct 1997 15:35:39 -0700

Title: A Walk Along The Beach
Author: NuPhalanx
E-Mail Address: [e-mail]
Distribution: Anya, of course. Others please ask.
Spoiler Warning: Invisible Girl
Rating: PG13
Content Warning: Assault
Summary: Buffy and her mom plan a road trip. However, trouble seems to
find the Slayer everywhere.
Characters: Buffy/Joyce/Giles

Disclaimer : This story is based on the series created by Joss Whedon. No
infringement is intended.
Authors Notes: WouldnÆt it be nice to see Buffy and her mom just having a
little mother-daughter fun for once? Of course, trouble seems to follow
the Slayer everywhere. This story is rated PG13 for violence and related
subject matter. Special thanks to Titania, LadyRHood, Meawan, and Melinda
for their comments and suggestions.

A walk along the beach
ver3                                      (part two)

Carmel     August 2, 1997

Buffy Summers kicked her shoes off and waded into the Pacific Ocean. The
water was cool and quite pleasant. Turning around, she called back to her
mother "Come on, mom! Live a little and get your feet wet." A wave roared
in, soaking her jeans to the knees. Turning again, she caught the next
wave full in the face. Sputtering, she wiped the water out of her eyes
and turned to look for her mother. She smiled as her mom came wading out
to join her.

"This water is just a little cold today!" Mrs. Summers replied, as yet
another wave drenched them both. Buffy grabbed her mothers hand and
yelped for joy as the next wave came at them. Deciding she had had
enough, her mother led them both back onto the sand. She said to her
daughter, in mock seriousness, " I thought we were just going to stay on
the beach, young lady". Buffy giggled as her mother started to drip water
on her new shoes.

"Mom, thanks for setting this up. I mean, I canÆt remember the last time
you and I just did something for fun." Looking down at her feet, she
continued, almost shyly. " IÆm really having a good time."

"My, my, I always thought teenagers could *never* have a good time with
their parents. ItÆs not cool, or whatever word you kids use these days,"
Joyce Summers said, brushing BuffyÆs hair back into place with her hands.


"Yea, I guess it is a major social no-no to do things with your parents.
Sometimes. But not this time," Buffy said, smiling at her mom. The two of
them sat down and just looked out over the ocean, watching the boats just
offshore, the people sunbathing, swimming, and the other things one does
on a beach. It was a beautiful August day, with just a slight breeze
blowing off the ocean. For about the tenth time since they had arrived,
Buffy wished that somehow Angel could be here with her.

æWould he want to go wading,Æ she wondered? æMore likely he was one to
cuddle up with her next to a fire, or get away from the lights and just
look up at the stars.Æ Would she ever get to find out? She had not been
able to reach him for nearly ten days now, and was starting to get
majorly wigged about it.

She resolved to get his address out of Giles when she got back, one way
or the other.

æIf Giles will talk to me,Æ she thought glumly, remembering their last
conversation.

Buffy had again brought up the subject of informing her mother the truth
about her daughter. Giles had been against it, reminding her that her
mother was better off not knowing. æIt would just make her a target and
life all the more harder on you,Æ he had told her. She remembered the
angry reply she had thrown at him:

"As if it couldnÆt get any harder than it already is!" She had stalked
out of his house, slamming the door behind her.

That had been Friday night, when she had been feeling more than a little
anxious about todayÆs trip. Now she felt just a little bit of guilt at
having walked out on Giles. After all, he had always tried to keep her
best interests in mind. Like he always has, and probably always would,
until one of them was no longer around.

Checking her watch, Joyce stood and brushed some sand off her jeans.
"Honey, IÆve got that meeting at the local Historical Society. I should
be back in two hours. Can you meet me here?"
Buffy glanced up at her mom. "Sure. I wonÆt go very far from here."

Her mom looked at her for a second, then said "Okay. I know I can trust
you to stay out of trouble." Buffy grinned inwardly at that comment.

æIf you only had a clue,Æ Buffy thought. Better not go there. She helped
her mom clean up the remnants of their picnic, then started off down the
beach. She turned to wave at her mom and watched her drive off to another
meeting. Then Buffy started walking, noticing an old lighthouse about a
half-mile down the beach. Deciding to check it out, she changed her
direction slightly.  Then she started thinking about her mother, the
Gallery, and the trip they were on.

 Always some meeting, or a late night, or paperwork, OR SOMETHING!! she
thought, trudging onward. Of course, some of her mothers activities did
make it easier for Buffy to be the Slayer, but lately she had really
wanted to spend more time with her mom.

Looking up, she noticed she had walked further down the beach than she
had intended. She had walked past the old lighthouse, and was in a small
cove that was surrounded by cliffs on the landward side. She noticed a
small wooded area near the top of a small rise and decided to get a look
at the ocean from up there. Checking her watch, she saw that she still
had about an hour and a quarter to kill.

Reaching the top of the rise, she sat down at the base of a tree and
looked out over the ocean. It was nice to be in a shady spot, as the
temperature had climbed just a little. She had just started thinking
about Angel again when a shiver went up her spine. She stiffened, and
stood up slowly, but couldnÆt see anything near-

Two white-hot needles touched her back, and then it felt like her whole
body was on fire. She was vaguely aware of falling, and then the
blackness closed in.

                                                      ***

The sand was wet against her face. She hurt everywhere. æWhat was going
on?Æ she wondered. æWhy am I lying in the sand?Æ A man was talking to
her.

"Miss, can you hear me? IÆm an EMT. WeÆre going to take you to the
hospital now." She was dizzy, her tongue felt like cotton, and her eyes
wouldnÆt focus.

"Wha-" she murmured, trying to sit up. A firm hand held her down. "Just
lay back and relax, okay?"

The dizziness got worse, and she let her head fall backwards. She could
feel herself being lifted by someone, then she faded out again.

When she opened her eyes again, she could see some bright lights overhead
as she was being wheeled into the hospital. Her mother was at her side,
with a worried look on her face. Voices came and went.

" àpossible OD, run a chem seven statà"

"àfound her on the beach, no apparent injuriesà"

"àany ID on her?à"

"àher motherÆs here. Keep her out there until we get this kid stableà"

Darkness overcame her again.

Regional Hospital

Joyce sat in the Emergency Room, anxiously waiting for someone to tell
her what happened to Buffy. She waited a few more minutes, then got up
and walked down to the nurses station.

 She had the duty nurse page the doctor that had worked on Buffy. He
appeared after a few minutes, carrying some paperwork with him.

"Mrs. Summers, I just got the lab results back on your daughter." He took
Joyce by the arm and led her to a small conference room. Joyce didnÆt
like the look in his eyes. Alarmed, she asked "Is she going to be
alright?"

Dr. Cardillo nodded. "WeÆd like to keep her overnight for observation."
He paused for a moment, looking uncertain as how to continue. "Mrs.
Summers, I think your daughter was very lucky today. We found traces of
Rohypnol in her blood. That would explain her disorientation."

He flipped through several pages of the chart, then looked up at Joyce
again. "There are no signs of any physical trauma or assault. Just a
small burn on her back, and what appears to be a needle mark on her left
arm." He paused again before going on, obviously trying to think of the
correct words.

"Mrs. Summers, has your daughter ever used drugs?"

"Absolutely not! SheÆs a good kid, and I trust her." Mrs. Summers didnÆt
like where this line of questioning was going. Dr. Cardillo noticed the
look on her face and changed his approach.

"IÆm sorry to have to ask you that, but I need to know so we can help
your daughter. The Rohypnol level in her system isnÆt very high, but it
is a cause for concern."

Joyce was aghast. "ThatÆs the stuff the press calls the ædate-rapeÆ drug,
isnÆt it?"

Dr. Cardillo nodded. "Someone apparently tried to hit her with some. She
should be okay in another day or so. IÆve prescribed some medication for
her to help ease the side affects. She should follow up with your family
doctor in a few days." He stood, and then continued. "A Detective will
want to speak with her, but I doubt sheÆll remember anything. ThatÆs why
this stuff is so hideous. He turned to leave, then added: "If you need to
talk to anyone, just have any nurse page me."

Joyce thanked the doctor, then sat there while her mind raced. æSomeone
drugged my daughter. WHY WHY WHY!? DidnÆt I tell her to be careful? I
should not have let her walk around up here on her own. Damn that
Gallery! All I wanted was some time with Buffy.Æ She stood up and walked
down to BuffyÆs room on shaky legs. She looked at her daughter, resting
peacefully in her bed.

æWhat happened? Did you try to prove how adult you were? I thought I
could trust you. I thought I had taught you to NEVER get into a situation
where this could happen.Æ Joyce Summers watched her daughter sleep and
was thankful for the lifeguard that had found her near the shore.

She had been almost frantic when she had returned from her meeting to
find that Buffy wasnÆt back yet. After waiting for an extra hour, she had
asked some of the lifeguards for help. The lifeguards had quickly
organized a search and found Buffy about thirty minutes later.

The EMTs had found no signs of a fight or struggle, but Buffy had been
unresponsive until just before arriving at the hospital. æWhat did you
get into this time,Æ Joyce thought. æAnd why do you always seem to find
trouble wherever you go?Æ

Buffy stirred, moaned, then opened her eyes. She looked around quickly
and was relieved to see her mother beside her.

"WhereàWhat happened?" she asked, noticing that she was in a hospital.
Joyce smiled at her daughter, squeezing her hand as she talked to her.

"You gave us quite a scare, young lady. How do you feel?" Joyce watched
Buffy closely as her daughter shook her head, trying to find the right
words.

"Sore. Dizzy. Can I have some water?" Buffy asked, noticing the pitcher
near her bed. Her mother poured her a glass and held it for her while she
thirstily drank it down.

"Is that better?" Joyce asked. Buffy nodded, then let her head drop back
down on to the pillow.

"Do you remember what happened? Anything at all?"

Buffy tried to think back about the days events, but couldnÆt penetrate
the fog that had gathered in her head. "Just - just walking down the
beach. You had left for your meeting, and - thatÆs it." She shook her
head, but the motion only made the dizziness worse. "ThatÆs all I can
remember." Buffy had a distressed look on her face. "Mom, why canÆt I
remember?"

Mrs. Summers shushed her daughter and stroked her hair. "ItÆs okay,
honey, just lay back and rest. IÆm sure it will come back to you."

Buffy nodded and closed her eyes. Joyce just watched her daughter as she
drifted off, hoping that she would be okay.

Her eyes grew misty as she started thinking about what might of, or could
of, happened today. æWhat do I do now?Æ Looking at BuffyÆs sleeping form,
Mrs. Summers wished someone would give her an answer.

                ***

Buffy didnÆt know where she was. She couldnÆt see anything. There was a
bright light on her face, and someone was talking. The voice was
distorted, as if coming from a great distance.

"Tell us about the Unseen," someone was asking. Buffy was confused. What
was this person talking about? Unseen what?

The person kept asking her questions, gently prodding her to answer.

Needles. Several long, sharp looking needles. Buffy hated needles. One
needle touched her arm, stinging as it penetrated the skin.

Buffy gasped and sat bolt upright, screaming. Within a minute a nurse had
entered her room and was gently grasping her shoulders.

"Shh, honey, itÆs allright. Easy now, letÆs put your head back, okay?"
The nurse helped Buffy get comfortable again. "Do you want to tell me
about it?"

Buffy shook her head. "Just a nightmare." The nurse smoothed the sheets
around Buffy and helped her get comfortable.

"Call if you need anything, okay?" the nurse told her, brushing a stray
strand of hair out of BuffyÆs face. Buffy nodded at her.

"Sure." The nurse checked the IV line and then left the room.

æWhat a doozy,Æ Buffy thought. æWhere did this æUnseenÆ come from?Æ
Resolving to ask Giles about it, she closed her eyes and drifted off,
hoping that there would be no other dreams tonight.

Mrs. Summers had picked Buffy up in the morning after another checkup by
Dr. Cardillo and a chat with a Detective. The policeman had been
sympathetic, but could offer no realistic expectation of ever finding who
had done this. Buffy was still tired from her ordeal, and this made for a
quiet trip home.

This suited Joyce just fine, as she didnÆt know what to do first: hug her
again, or try not to cry in front of her daughter. She decided to do
nether until Buffy felt better. Buffy definitely looked like she could
use a great amount of TLC.

æWe can talk this out in a few days,Æ Joyce thought, glancing at her
daughter. æI just canÆt believe this has happened. SheÆs always been so
careful.Æ Joyce grimly looked out the windshield, as another unwelcome
thought came to her head.

æThis is my fault. I should never have left her alone.Æ She did resolve
to contact her ex-husband immediately after getting home. æI would think
that he would tell me if he had noticed any changes in BuffyÆs behavior,Æ
Joyce thought.

But then again, like most men, he probably didnÆt notice the most obvious
things going on around him. æHe damn well better notice this,Æ she
thought angrily. æWeÆve put Buffy through enough and maybe itÆs starting
to take a toll on her.Æ She looked at Buffy again, sleeping in the back
seat. æWe will have a talk when you feel better,Æ Joyce resolved.

Sunnydale - August 5, 1997

Buffy had recovered enough that she was like her old self after a few
days. Or mostly like herself, Giles mused, watching her go through a
workout in his back yard. He was updating his Journal with the shocking
information Buffy had given him about the previous weekend. He knew of no
supernatural entity that would do this to a person, so he was at a total
loss as how he could help this young woman with this problem.

This wasnÆt covered by his fathersÆ training, nor by any reference book
he had. And Giles didnÆt like faking it. He sat quietly as Buffy
continued her sparing, watching her moves, the obvious fury in her eyes,
the barred teeth as she continued to practice with a quarterstaff.

Buffy was soaked in sweat, yet still she kept driving herself. Harder,
faster, deadlier, she told herself, knocking the sparring dummy to the
ground. If I had been faster, maybe I wouldnÆt have this little gap in my
memory, she yelled at herself. And maybe my mother would still trust me,
and not afraid to let me out of the house without a bodyguard.

She hung her head, taking a break. She felt a tear running down her face.
æThatÆs what hurts the most,Æ she thought. æI had worked so hard to put
some of the things I had done in the past behind me. I know that I was
never the most responsible person in the world, but I was really trying
here. And now someone has gone and destroyed it.Æ

Giles had walked over, carrying a bottle of water that he offered her.
She took it without comment and proceeded to drain it. She could fell his
eyes on her.

"Giles, please, I know you want to help. I just donÆt think that thereÆs
anything you can do here." She balled her fists and stared at the ground.
"Looks like IÆm alone with this one."

"Absolutely not, Buffy. I am your Watcher, and need I remind you that I
am responsible for helping your mental state as well as the physical
one." He paused, looking for the right words. "Whoever did this to you
may never be caught. I canÆt do anything about that. But I can be here
for you, just like IÆve been through all our other trials." He looked
away from her, gathering his thoughts. "Give your mother some time,
Buffy. IÆm sure you and your mother will work the situation through."

Buffy snorted, then looked away from him. "Have you been hearing anything
IÆve said lately? SHE DOESNÆT TRUST ME! I donÆt think you have any idea
of just how much that hurts me." She wandered over to a chair and plopped
down on it. Tears streamed down her face freely now. "I-IÆve started to
think that maybe I did do something stupid."

Giles knelt in front of her, and took her hands in his. "Look at me,
Buffy." When she didnÆt look up, he repeated his words, a little more
forcefully. "LOOK AT ME!" She looked up, startled, not remembering the
last time he had used that tone of voice with her.

"WeÆve been together now for almost a year. I know you as if you were my
own daughter. YouÆre impulsive, free-spirited, and very loyal to those
whom you care about." He touched her cheek with one of his hands. It hurt
him deeply to see his young charge so distraught.

"But I have NEVER seen you do anything as idiotic as you think you have.
You are not that foolish. You were assaulted, Buffy, and I demand that
you cease this self-destructive thinking that youÆre doing." He smiled
slightly at her. "I need my Slayer to have her head together."

Buffy sniffed, wiped her eyes, then offered him a wan smile. "Thanks for
listening to me when I wigged out, Giles. IÆll keep it together, I
promise." She took the hand he offered as he helped her stand; then the
two of them walked into his house. She even managed a small laugh at some
joke he was trying to tell her. But inside, she still felt uneasy about
what had happened. Buffy didnÆt think that would change anytime soon.


                                End part
2.



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

From: Lisa Rose <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Little Buffy's Vacation Spots
Date: 22 Oct 1997 23:37:20 -0700

LITTLE BUFFY'S VACATION SPOTS

Where does a young Slayer go to unwind when she's not "on patrol"?
Whether hanging in Sunnydale, or going on a trip with her family, here are
some of the places Little Buffy might have enjoyed going to "get away from
it all," had she and her loved ones only known sooner she was to rid the
world of vampires, demons, and the forces of darkness:

  1. The Vampire State Building - Now why would Little Buffy want
     to spend her free time in a building that is infested with nothing but
     wall-to-wall bloodsuckers?  Quite simply, it's a fifteen hundred foot
     pillar of concentrated targets, who have very few escape routes
     other than the front door.  Little Buffy likes to think of it as a giant
     upside-down vampire Pez dispenser.  Betcha can't slay just one!

  2. Demon Marcus Department Store - It's midnight at the pet
     cemetery.  A dying vampire Rottweiler rips Little Buffy's favorite
     black slaying jumper just after she stakes him.  Now she looks
     terrible!  What if Little Angel comes by?  Where is she going to find a
     replacement (blood-resistant), with matching splinter-proof gloves,
     at this hour?  The question is rhetorical, because she knows there's
     only *one* place she can go...  And they even take *Master* Card.

  3. Ben and Scary's Ice Cream - Ben, the day manager of
     Sunnydale's fave ice cream joint is jovial and kind. But at sundown,
     his sinister business partner "Scary" takes over the store to handle
     the night crowd, and it's a whole new ball of wax (or is that "house
     of wax"?). Suddenly the store becomes *the* place for Bronze pickup
     artists dressed in yesterday's fashions to bring their newly acquired
     "dates," and Scary just looks the other way. Gone are the friendly
     flavors of the daylight hours, replaced now by "Bury Garcia,"
     "Bloody Monkey," and "Clearcut Forest Crunch." (Patrons getting
     ice cream on their noses are advised to not let *any* other customers
     in the store help them wipe it off!)

  4. Stakey's Pizza Parlor - Old Man Stakey had a rep for throwing
     one mean pizza crust. So much so that he was rumored to be able to
     decapitate young punk vampires who came in to harass his
     customers with it, especially if the crust was running slightly stale
     that day. "No real skin off my nose," he'd remark, "those vamps are
     lousy tippers anyway!" Little Buffy would *beg* her parents to take
     her to see the old man in action, learning techniques she would later
     apply to music cymbals and other weapons. Also didn't hurt that
     Stakey always gave her a free "Herbert" style combo pizza with
     extra bacon whenever she showed up just to idolize him!

"Little Buffy's Vacation Spots" can be
found under "Little Buffy's Recreation" at:
http://www.wco.com/~cybrpaws/lilbuffy.html

("Vampire State Building" name suggested by Jim)

Lisa (http://www.wco.com/~cybrpaws/)



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

From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: A Walk Along The Beach  4/4
Date: 22 Oct 1997 15:09:49 -0700

Title: A Walk Along The Beach  (part 4)
Characters: Buffy/Joyce/Other
Author: NuPhalanx
Rating: PG13
Distribution: Anya, of course. Others, please ask.
Spoiler: Invisible Girl

Disclaimer : This story is based on the series created by Joss Whedon. No
infringement is intended.
Authors Notes: WouldnÆt it be nice to see Buffy and her mom just having a
little mother-daughter fun for once? Of course, trouble seems to follow
the Slayer everywhere. This story is rated PG13 for violence and related
subject matter. Also, the Upholders, Unseen, Ms. Blaize, Hoshi, and the
Director are mine. Special thanks to Titania, LadyRHood, Meawan, and
Melinda for their comments and suggestions.


A walk along the beach
ver3                                     (part four)

    Sunnydale   12 August

"Allright, Buffy, same deal as before. You can leave now, or you can come
with me to help out. One of the Unseen is believed to be after someone of
importance to us." She clicked her watch again, then met BuffyÆs gaze
with those cold blue eyes. "You have two minutes to decide."

Buffy glanced outside, then met BlaizeÆs gaze. Holding her voice steady,
she replied: "LetÆs do it."

Ms. Blaize turned on her heel and headed outside. Buffy followed. Blaize
led her to the garage and opened the door. Inside was a black BMW. Buffy
whistled, having seen CordeliaÆs car and knowing that it didnÆt come
cheap. She climbed in the passenger side and buckled in as Blaize started
the car and headed down the road towards Sunnydale. Speed soon built up
as she shifted quickly through the gears, revving the engine to the red
line with each shift. A few minutes later the BMW entered the highway and
was still accelerating. Buffy tried not to look nervous as Blaize dodged
through the traffic.

"Do you have a death wish or something?" Buffy asked with a confidence
she didnÆt feel, watching as Blaize expertly maneuvered the car around a
semi truck. "The idea is to get there alive so we can take out this
æUnseenÆ person you guys keep talking about."

Blaize didnÆt look away from the road in front of her. "Relax. I do this
all the time." She downshifted again and zipped around another slow
moving truck. The phone rang, beeping urgently.

"Yes?" Blaize answered, looking just a little bit annoyed. "Great. IÆll
be there in ten minutes. NO ONE LEAVES, YOU GOT THAT?" She placed the
phone back in its cradle.
Buffy noticed that the tachometer was near the redline and hoped that
this car would hold together better than the one she had found Ms. Blaize
near earlier in the day.

Buffy looked at her. "Good news, I hope." She was starting to relax as
she got used to the speed of everything rushing by her. CanÆt wait to try
this out on my own, she thought, enjoying the rush.

Blaize smiled, very slightly. "I hope youÆre ready to go hunting. We have
one of the Unseen trapped in the basement of another safe area. Trouble
is, you and I are the only ones nearby who have ever dealt with them. Our
main team is just a little occupied watching someone."

Buffy had no comment at first, then she started recalling her fight with
Marcie. That had not been a lot of fun. Marcie hadnÆt been that strong,
but she obviously knew some style of fighting from the force of her
attack. "Any idea what kind of loony weÆre dealing with here?"

Blaize shook her head. "All we know is that one of the Unseen has broken
into another safe house. Prepare yourself, Slayer. WeÆre almost there."

                    ***

It turned out to be a tough fight, even with the two of them looking out
for each other. Ms. Blaize had brought one weapon -  a Taser gun that she
handled with quiet confidence. Buffy realized what it was when she saw
it, but just had to comment about it.

"Got your phaser set to kill?" Blaize just gave her a withering glare in
reply. She made sure her people were ready, so that their invisible
friend wouldnÆt escape, then lead them both down the stairs. Buffy
shuddered when she recalled the fight.

The Unseen had been waiting for them. He attacked Ms. Blaize first, as he
felt she was the most dangerous. As she lay on the floor, stunned, Buffy
had tried to use her Slayer sense to locate her opponent. She had been
able to connect, once, but then he had managed to knock her across the
room.

As Blaize was still stunned, Buffy summoned all her strength and
concentration and just managed to get a firm hold on him. As she was
struggling for her life, Blaize had come to her senses and was able to
use her Taser gun against the Unseen boy who was furiously trying to
throw Buffy off his back. He grunted as the probes from the gun touched
his skin and the charge hit him. Unfortunately, Buffy received a partial
jolt that threw her up against the wall again. She was still a little
dizzy when Blaize had come over to check on her.

"How are you feeling?" She offered a hand to Buffy and helped her up. She
kept her hand on BuffyÆs arm when she swayed unsteadily. "Get that medic
over here," Buffy heard her say, as she stumbled across the room.

Buffy was more than happy to sit down again. Ms. Blaize knelt beside her,
a concerned look on her face. A young woman sat next to Buffy and started
to check her vital signs. Buffy started to protest, but Blaize quieted
her with a stern "Shut it!" The medic did a few other tests then looked
at Ms. Blaize.

"SheÆll be okay. ItÆs just from that nasty little shock you gave her."
The medic broke an ammonia ampoule under BuffyÆs nose and held it there.
Buffy turned her head but the medic just followed her nose. "Just sit
back, breathe this for a few minutes, and you should be okay." She handed
the ammonia ampoule to Ms. Blaize and then moved off with a group of
people carrying a stretcher out of the basement. There was a strange
silver blanket - covered figure on it. æScore one for us,Æ Buffy thought,
wondering about the person that had just tried to kill them. æCan these
guys do any better in holding him than the FBI?Æ Idly, she wondered what
would happen to the person. æMaybe I shouldnÆt ask,Æ she thought. æI
would rather not disappear. IÆll just see how this plays out and talk to
Giles.Æ

"Feeling better?" Blaize inquired, helping Buffy to her feet. Buffy
nodded, then started to walk to the nearby stairs. Ms. Blaize followed,
watching her closely for any other signs that she wasnÆt okay. When they
reached the outdoors, Buffy saw that the area was deserted. Except for a
house about a quarter of a mile away, there were no other signs of
anybody.

"Impressive much," Buffy said, getting into the car. "Your SWAT team
disappeared in a hurry."

"IÆve said it before - the less our group is noticed, the better it is
for all involved." Blaize started the car and pulled out onto the road.
"IÆll take you back to get your bike." Neither of them said another word
until they had arrived at the other safe house. Buffy was on alert, but
yet could sense no danger - or anything, for that matter - from this
woman. Was she just going to let her leave?

Ms. Blaize had asked Buffy to wait outside, then disappeared into the
house. After a few minutes, she came back out carrying a small case. She
motioned towards the beach, which was about a thousand feet away. "LetÆs
go take a walk."

They made their way down a grassy slope to the beach. There were several
NO TRESPASSING signs about, so the beach was deserted. Buffy continued
with some trepidation, as her companion had not said a word since they
had left the house.

When the house was no longer in view, Ms. Blaize stopped and looked out
at the ocean. Buffy stood there quietly, as she wasnÆt certain what was
going to happen next. She still had received no warnings from her Slayer
sense. Of course, there was always a first time for it not to work, she
thought. Nice to see if this was it.

"Now IÆve got to decide about what to do with you," Ms. Blaize said, a
hint of weariness in her voice. Buffy started to move, but Blaize just
raised her hand. "No, IÆm not going to zap you again or anything like
that. I gave you my word, and I keep my word. Besides," she continued,
smiling. "You were of help to us. For that I thank you." For once, Buffy
could think of no jibe or retort. It just didnÆt seem proper, somehow.

Ms. Blaize was handing her the case. Buffy took it, then opened it
slightly to see what was inside. æA CD-ROM?Æ she thought, confused. She
looked at Ms. Blaize with a quizzical expression on her face.

"That has every piece of information on you that we have gathered. I had
Hoshi remove all our files concerning you from our system and put them on
that disk. I think we owe you that much after your - experience." She
looked down at the sand, sheepishly.

Buffy was surprised to see that expression on BlaizeÆs face. It just
didnÆt seem to be something this woman would experience. ÆLike IÆm a
Psyche major,Æ Buffy thought.

"Will this get you in trouble with your, um, boss?" she asked, sliding
the case into one of her pockets.

Ms. Blaize shrugged. "ItÆs my call." She didnÆt seem overly concerned
about it.

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Buffy checked her watch
and saw it was two in the afternoon. Her mom would be closing the Gallery
at four today, so it was time to start heading home. She had one more
question that she had to ask.

"Will we ever see each other again? I mean, it was kind of fun to have a
bad-ass partner, you know?"

Ms. Blaize just nodded at the CD-ROM. "Make sure you look at that."

They walked back to the house in silence. Buffy retrieved her bike, got
on, and started off down the road. She took one look back and watched as
a BMW roared off in the opposite direction.

Buffy had managed to beat her mother home by a whole ten minutes. She had
jumped into the shower and was just drying off when she heard the front
door open and her mother come in.

"IÆm home, honey," her mother called out. Buffy opened the bathroom door
and replied: "IÆm up here, mom." She continued to brush her hair as she
heard her mom climb the stairs. Buffy had a nervous feeling in her
stomach, just like she used to get ever since she was five and she knew
things werenÆt right between her and her mom. Hopefully she wouldnÆt
throw up. Big ick factor.

Joyce knocked on the bathroom door. She opened it slightly and spoke to
her daughter. "Honey, IÆve been thinking about things all day. Can we
talk when youÆre done in there?"

    "Sure, mom. IÆll be done in a æsec." Joyce went back downstairs.
Buffy finished her brushing and, after a moments hesitation, went to talk
to her mom. æI wonder how long we can last ætill we start yelling at each
other again,Æ she thought glumly. Her mom was waiting for her in the
living room. Buffy sat down on the couch and waited for her mom to begin.
It wasnÆt a long wait.

    "Honey, I know that things have been tense between us since what
happened at Carmel. Part of that is my fault. IÆm very sorry that IÆve
been overly protective of you since then. I know that I can trust you to
do the right thing. But I - I just wish I could take that whole day
back," Joyce said, her lower lip trembling.

Buffy felt a tear slide down her cheek as she impulsively hugged her mom.
Joyce gripped her daughter tightly, trying to shield her from the world,
and realizing that she couldnÆt do it forever. æI will have to trust
her,Æ Joyce thought. ÆI have done my best, and while there is still more
that I can do for her, itÆs time to start letting go.Æ

    Buffy sniffed and closed her eyes, content to be in her mothers
arms. It was a good feeling, and she was in no hurry to have it end. She
said softly:

"Mom, IÆm really sorry for being such a nut case since then. I know that
IÆm usually not that bad." Buffy pulled back from her mother and looked
into her eyes. There was love and concern reflected in them.

    Joyce smirked at her. "Not too bad," she teased. Buffy smiled at
her mother, then continued. "Mom, could we go to the beach, please? IÆd
really like to finish that walk."

Joyce smiled back at her daughter. "Let me get my keys."

    On a public beach west of Sunnydale

Buffy had changed into shorts and a T-shirt for their walk. It was a
beautiful day, with only a few clouds in the sky. There was a gentle
breeze tugging at her hair as they walked onto the beach from the parking
lot. Her mother had said very little on the drive from home, but had a
happy expression on her face. Buffy swore that this time, there would be
no shouting match between them. Besides, it was just too embarrassing to
have anyone see her and her mom arguing in public. Buffy had enough grief
to deal with without having to add some public humiliation to it.

"Buffy, IÆve felt so bad for you. IÆve been thinking about that day every
night for the past two weeks. This was so hard for me to realize, but
there just isnÆt - and wonÆt - be anything we can do to change it." She
looked at Buffy closely. "And I know itÆs been hard for you, too. Are you
still having those nightmares?"

Buffy shuddered as she remembered some of the nightmares she had been
having. Of course, some of them were the result of Ms. Blaize. But she
had had others about making the wrong choice, and getting hurt for it. It
hadnÆt done much for her confidence.

"Yea, the dreams are still there, but just not as bad." She paused for a
minute, trying to gather her thoughts. "Mom, IÆm sorry about being such a
headcase lately. I know I can be a handful, but thanks for putting up
with me." She looked at her mom, and then continued. "Are you still
trying that stuff from those parenting books? You know, I can look at
them in the library and then I could really play some head games." She
smiled sweetly, loving the look that come over her motherÆs face.

"Then IÆll just have to get some new books. You can not win this fight,
young lady," Joyce said, trying to sound like a prison camp commandant.
She only succeeded in making Buffy laugh. Joyce was glad to hear her
laugh. "Are you okay?" Buffy nodded, glad to have worked things out
between them. It made things much easier to deal with if she could talk
to her mom. Joyce cupped BuffyÆs face in her hands and looked at her
daughter with  a serious expression on her face.

 "Just remember, honey, it was not your fault. You understand? And donÆt
forget that." Buffy nodded. "Yea. Thanks, mom." And thank you, Ms.
Blaize, wherever you are.

Pacific Coast Highway - 25 miles north of Sunnydale

 Ms. Blaize sat on a bench at a rest stop, working on her computer.
She was typing quickly, watching the screen, then typing some more.

    *It was too bad that she had a partial recall of the
interrogation,* user Director.uphold.net responded. She typed a reply.

    *I dealt with it.*

    *Understood. Do you have her trust?*

    *Perhaps. Is it important?*

    She waited a full two minutes for the reply.

    *Yes. She would be useful to us. Very useful. The call is yours.*

Director.uphold.net logged off. Ms. Blaize sat back, resting for a moment
before shutting down her computer and getting in her BMW. She left a
cloud of dust behind her as she headed north along the highway.

End

please send comments and whatever to: [e-mail]




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

From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: A Walk Along The Beach 3/4
Date: 22 Oct 1997 15:09:22 -0700

Title: A Walk Along The Beach  (part 3)
Characters: Buffy/Joyce/Other
Author: NuPhalanx
Rating: PG13
Distribution: Anya, of course. Others, please ask.
Spoiler: Invisible Girl


Disclaimer : This story is based on the series created by Joss Whedon. No
infringement is intended.
Authors Notes: WouldnÆt it be nice to see Buffy and her mom just having a
little mother-daughter fun for once? Of course, trouble seems to follow
the Slayer everywhere. This story is rated PG13 for violence and related
subject matter. Special thanks to Titania, LadyRHood, Meawan, and Melinda
for their comments and suggestions.


A walk along the beach
ver3                                     (part three)

    Sunnydale   12 August


    Buffy was up just past sunrise on a Tuesday morning. She had had
another fight with her mother and had gone to bed early. Buffy grimaced
inwardly as she recalled the heated argument the two of them had  about
the aftermath of the Carmel trip. BuffyÆs mother was usually very
trusting, but now Joyce was always wary when Buffy went out, especially
at night. It was obvious that her mother was feeling guilty about what
had happened.

  As she was moving quietly around her room, she wondered if things were
ever going to return to how they were before the attack. It didnÆt help
that her mother was once again reading those parenting books, trying to
figure out what she had done wrong. Deciding that she was fed up with the
whole situation, she slowly stepped down the stairs and made her way to
the kitchen. She could hear her mom in the shower so she knew that she
didnÆt have much time. Grabbing a bottle of orange juice from the fridge,
she left the house and went out back to get her bicycle.

    Pulling on her protective padding, she tucked her hair up under
her helmet and was soon riding down the street. Giles had given her the
next two days off to relax and gather her thoughts, but it didnÆt seem to
be working very well. For about the hundredth time, Buffy wished that
Willow hadnÆt gone on that backpacking trip with her parents. She really
needed another female shoulder to cry on. She didnÆt think that Xander
would be much help, as he seemed to rarely have any problems with his
parents. And Giles was obviously out of his league here, although she had
to give him credit for trying. After all, the Slayer was not of much use
to him in her current mental state. At least there had been a lull in any
kind of activity.

    As she rode through the outlying areas of Sunnydale, she wondered
what would happen if she just sat down with her mom and had it out. Not
the screaming and yelling that had been going on for the past week, but a
calm, rational chat about what had happened. There had to be some way to
get through to her mom that there just wasnÆt anything either of them
could have done differently. Of course, Mrs. Summers was in denial about
that fact.

æItÆs like this, mom,Æ she thought to herself, pedaling harder as she
started to go uphill. ÆI know you think this couldÆve been avoided. I
admit that I havenÆt always had the best judgment, but I really didnÆt do
anything wrong. I am guilty of  being in the wrong place at the wrong
time. I know you think that it might have been different had you not left
me, but this DID happen, and we have to deal with it.Æ  Nodding her head,
she decided to give it a try.

æNow, if only someone could help me explain these weird dreams I keep
having,Æ she thought, wincing at the memory of last nights dream. æGiles
thinks that my Slayer ability is still trying to tell me something. I
just wish I knew what it was.Æ Buffy recalled the dream from the night
before, as it had been a little different form the others. The needles,
the light, the question was still there. But now a woman was present. A
red-haired woman, who seemed to be asking other questions. But she
couldnÆt remember what the questions were.

    She noticed that she had ridden out to the west end of the city,
where some cliffs overlooked a beach and the Pacific Ocean. She hopped
off her bike and sat down near a group of trees, taking a break.

    Further up the road, she noticed that a car was pulled off, its
hood up and steam coming out of the radiator. æSomeoneÆs not getting to
work on time,Æ she noted wryly. æMaybe IÆll see if they need some help.Æ
Jumping back on her bike, she started towards the car.

    As she rode closer, she began to get that creepy feeling again.
Deciding not to take any chances, she pulled a stake out of her waistband
and held it under one arm  as she stopped about ten feet behind the car.
Someone was at the front, looking at the engine. Since Buffy couldnÆt
tell if it was male or female, she slowly walked around the car.

    Standing in front of the car was a red-headed woman. She hadnÆt
heard Buffy approach and looked up with a start. She had the oddest blue
eyes - and then it hit Buffy. A flash. A needle. The bright light.

    The woman obviously recognized Buffy. She made a move to grab
something out of her jacket, but Buffy was faster. She dropped the woman
with a roundhouse kick and then stood back from her, screaming:

" I remember you! What did you do to me!?" The woman looked at Buffy for
a minute, then tried to sit up. Buffy kicked her in the head, hard. "One
more time - WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME!!??"  Buffy kept just out of arms
reach, but was watching closely to make sure there were no surprises. æAt
least this womanÆs alone,Æ she thought.

"What I had to do. Are you feeling better, Slayer?" Red looked at her
with something shining in her eyes - defiance, maybe, and something else.

    Buffy paused, not too certain of what she should do next. The
red-haired woman continued to watch her, looking just a little dismayed
at the situation. Finally, she spoke again.

"My name is Ms. Blaize. My employer needed information and we thought you
might be able to help us," she said, rubbing her head where Buffy had
connected. "Good shot, by the way."

    Buffy was not amused. "Nice of you to ask me. Did you get your
jollies by drugging me? One more time - what did you do to me? And why?"

    Ms. Blaize stood up and moved further off the road, motioning for
Buffy to follow. Buffy did, warily. The woman sat down in the grass and
looked up at the young girl standing over her.

"I had told the Director that it wasnÆt a good idea." She glanced at her
watch, then stood up. Buffy dropped back into a fighting stance. Ms.
Blaize waved her hand dismissively. "Look, I have to get somewhere. You
can come with me if you want. I really donÆt want a fight." She turned on
her heel and started walking.

Uncertain of what to do, Buffy challenged her with "Why should I follow
you? I donÆt need to get drugged up again."

Ms. Blaize stopped, turned, and sighed. She moved closer to the girl.
Buffy watched her warily. The woman seemed to be debating what to do
next. After a strained silence, Ms. Blaize spoke.

    "I have heard about your paranormal activities. I belong to a
group that monitors the paranormal, and assists others when able. We call
ourselves the Upholders." She made a show of setting her watch alarm.
When she was done, she looked at Buffy again, and her eyes were like ice.
Blue ice that pinned Buffy where she stood. æWhat a strange sensation,Æ
she thought. æIs this how the bird feels when the cat is about to
strike?Æ

    "When the alarm goes off, I am leaving, with or without you. If
you come with me, you have my word that you will be unharmed. Or, you can
leave, and you will not be bothered again." She pressed a button on the
side of her watch. "You have two minutes to decide."

    Buffy watched the woman closely. She just stood there, watching
the timer count itself down. She could make out no expression on her
face, but there was no mistaking the fact that Ms. Blaize was serious. I
have to know more, Buffy thought. Maybe these people can be of use to
Giles and I. She made her decision. Then the watch beeped. Time was up.
Red looked at her questioningly.

"LetÆs go," was all Buffy said.

    They had walked about a mile up the road when Buffy saw the
house. It was one of those beach houses that was really expensive and
exclusive and whatever else the tabloids used to describe them. Red led
her down the driveway without a word and then they walked around to the
back of the house. Buffy didnÆt feel any warnings, but that didnÆt mean
that there wasnÆt anything waiting to attack her. She had a stake in
hand, just in case.

    Ms. Blaize had pulled out a plastic card with a magnetic strip
along one side. As she swiped it through a slot below the door, she said:


"Welcome to one of our safe houses, Buffy." She saw Buffy hesitate at the
entrance. Smiling internally at the girlsÆ caution, she said: " I gave
you my word. Now come on in." Carefully, Buffy stepped inside. Ms. Blaize
followed.

    They were standing in what looked like a normal kitchen. Blaize
led the Slayer into the living room, where there was a young Asian man
sitting at a computer. He looked up, returned to his work, then looked up
again.

    "Are you nuts-" he sputtered, looking at Buffy. Ms. Blaize cut
him off, harshly. "My call, Hoshi. I think weÆve interfered enough in her
life as it is. Any signs of the Unseen?"

    Glancing at Buffy, Hoshi sat down at his computer. He touched an
icon on the desktop, and read the text that came up. " Not yet. Our
source wasnÆt sure what day they would move on our subject." Buffy came
over to look at the message. Shaking her head, she looked up at Blaize.

    "I kept having dreams about someone asking about these - Unseen.
Who are they? And why would I know them?"

Blaize looked at her. "The Unseen are assassins. We know that they work
for hire, but we do not know who is leading them. We had hoped that you
might have had some information." She looked away for a moment, as if she
were considering something. Then she continued.


"IÆm sorry about what we did, but not why we did it. IÆm sure youÆll
understand our need to keep the knowledge of our group to a minimum."

"This is too X-Files," Buffy replied. "I mean, IÆve ran across some
strange things, but this is too much."

    She moved over to look out the large bay window, and wished Giles
was here. Or anybody, so that she could stop this feeling of needing to
run wildly in circles. Then something clicked in her head. Why hadnÆt she
seen this connection before?

 "Maybe IÆve had a complete mental meltdown, but youÆre talking about
people like Marcie, arenÆt you?" She looked at both of them. "I thought
the FBI was taking care of her?"

    Ms. Blaize shook her head. "ThatÆs only partially correct. Hoshi
can fill you in on the details. I have a call to make." Hoshi smiled and
motioned her to sit near him. He brought up a file on his computer.

    "About three months ago, four of the æinvisiblesÆ escaped from a
heavily secured FBI facility. We were monitoring the FBI as we werenÆt
sure as to what was going on with these people. Since the escape, four
people have been killed by someone claiming to be the æUnseenÆ. Whoever
they are, we were called in because most everyone else is out of their
league."

    "And you think that these people will strike somewhere around
here? Why?" Something still didnÆt click with Buffy. Hoshi opened another
file.

    "We are helping to protect this man, Doctor Uvante. He has
developed
a way to reverse the process that renders these people invisible." Hoshi
turned in his seat and looked at her with a serious expression on his
face. He leaned in close to Buffy before he continued speaking. "You must
be something special if she brought you here. Listen carefully to what
she says."

    Buffy made a face. "Yea, IÆm so special, you had to screw with my
memory. That is so distasteful." Hoshi had a sheepish look on his face
and was about to say more, but Ms. Blaize walked into the room and he
returned his attention to the computer.

    "Alright, Buffy, same deal as before. You can leave now, or you
can come with me to help out. One of the Unseen is believed to be after
someone of importance to us." She clicked her watch again, then met
BuffyÆs gaze with those cold blue eyes. "You have two minutes to decide."

                                        End
part three




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

From: Lisa Rose <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Another Little Buffy Vacation Spot
Date: 23 Oct 1997 19:51:47 -0700

5.  JUGULAR PARK: THE LOST WORLD -  "When Vampires Ruled the Earth..."
    reads a sign in the visitors center (a fact the vampires don't like to be
    reminded of).  Remotely-controlled tour vehicles guide visitors past live
    vampires lurking in re-creations of their natural habitats: graveyards,
    darkened nightclubs, earthquake-leveled Budapest.  "Oh look, on your
    right, there's a vampire bringing down a human being.  Brutal, yes, but
    Nature in all her majesty!"  (Guests are *strongly* advised not to feed the
    vampires, however cute they may appear to be).  Unfortunately, the
    park has been closed ever since a disgruntled employee turned off the
    holy water moats, lowered the garlic fences, and opened the cross-encrusted
    gates, allowing the "residents" to escape.  Little Buffy had to be deputized
    as an honorary "vampherd," rounding up the errant critters, or making
    "alternate arrangements" for them.


(creative contributions by Jesse Jou and Chris C.)

Lisa
http://www.wco.com/~cybrpaws/lilbuffy.html



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

From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Reflections: W.I.F. (04/?) by D.Spence
Date: 26 Oct 1997 20:02:10 -0500 (EST)

I'M BAAACK!!! Sorry for the delay. Between my father going to the
hospital, my parent's toilet breaking flooding half the apartment
the same night requiring massive furniture moving and recarpeting,
Canadian thanksgiving, a round with the flu and the impending
teacher's strike, a move to Sunnydale is looking more attractive
every day. Count this chapter as a small miracle. Hope you like it.

                         *   *   *   *   *

TITLE: Reflections: Warrior...Innocent...Fool
AUTHOR: Dalton S. Spence
EMAIL ADDRESS: <[e-mail]>
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: This story cannot be sold or used for profit
    in any way. Copies of this story may be made for private use
    only or posted in fanfic archives for general distribution, but
    must include all disclaimers and copyright notices.
SPOILER WARNING: Occurs after "Prophecy Girl"
RATING: R - Restricted
CONTENT WARNING: This story depicts scenes of violence and/or their
    aftermath, and a strong love relationship between two consenting
    adult women. If you are under 18 years of age or if this type of
    story is illegal in the state or country in which you live,
    please do not read it. If depictions of this nature disturb you,
    you may wish to read something other than this story.
CLASSIFICATION: C - Crossover with Xena: Warrior Princess
SUMMARY: When an evil goddess is accidently released from millennia
    of captivity, she uses her powers to torment the descendants of
    her enemies -- Buffy, Willow and Xander. Giles must use an
    ancient Greek artifact to summon the ancestors who defeated her
    before -- Xena, Gabrielle and Joxer.
DISCLAIMER: Buffy, Giles, the Slayerettes and all other characters
    who have appeared in the series "Buffy the Vampire Slayer"
    together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole
    copyright property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Inc., Kuzui
    Enterprises, Sandollar Television, 20th Century Fox Television
    and the WB Network. Xena, Gabrielle, Joxer and all other
    characters who have appeared in the syndicated series "Xena:
    Warrior Princess," together with the names, titles and backstory
    are the sole copyright property of MCA/Universal and Renaissance
    Pictures. No copyright infringement was intended in the writing
    of this fan fiction. All other characters, the story idea and
    the story itself are the sole property of the author.

               Reflections: Warrior...Innocent...Fool
                      (a BtVS/X:WP crossover)
            by Dalton S. Spence <[e-mail]>
                              Part 4/?

*The Master's Lair, 1540 h PDT*

//Well, if that place looked like a madman's treasure room, this one
looks like a tomb,// Xena thought as she came to the top of the
stairs. She turned to look at the cross guarding the entrance and
shuddered in horror. //Or a torture chamber,// she amended mentally,
remembering all too well her close encounter with this particular
method of execution.

Giles saw her expression and correctly (if incompletely) recognizing
the reason for it, hastened to explain. "As bizarre as this must
seem to you, that cross is recognized as a holy symbol by nearly a
third of the people in the world today, and is successfully used to
repel the forces of darkness. And before you ask, we do not worship
death, but rather the triumph of faith over it. It reminds us of the
teachings and the sacrifice made by a man who many believe to be the
son of the one true God, and his resurrection on the third day after
his execution on the cross."

"What of our gods?" asked Joxer, who was deeply disturbed by this
news. "Does anyone still worship them?"

"Not publicly I'm afraid, although the stories of them and of your
times are an integral part of our language and culture. Greece is
traditionally considered the cradle of western civilization, and..."
Noticing the glazed expression on the others faces, Giles quickly
concluded, "Suffice it to say, while your world may be gone, it is
*definitely* not forgotten. As to your gods, if they are still
around they are keeping a very low profile."

"With Callisto on the loose, you can bet that won't last long," Xena
said grimly. "She's not the kind to fade discretely out of sight."

"I don't care what you say," Gabrielle said as she gazed around the
chamber, "there is no way you are going to get me to believe that
this is a holy place. It feels ... evil!"

"Good call," said a voice from the shadows. "This place is a
desecrated temple, used for decades by the most evil of creatures as
a headquarters for his schemes. The Master (as he called himself)
enjoyed the irony of using a holy symbol to protect his treasures
from his ambitious underlings, since only he was strong enough to
even briefly resist its power."

The speaker stepped into the light, and Gabrielle gasped in surprise
(and pleasure). Before her was the most handsome man she had ever
seen. //He *must* be one of the newer gods,// she thought, //because
he's much too good looking to be mortal.// There was something about
him that reminded her very strongly of Xena, something she found
extremely attractive. Seeing that their hosts apparently knew this
fellow and weren't afraid of him, she impulsively stepped forward
and said, "Hi, I'm Gabrielle. And you are?"

"Call me Angel," he replied with a smile, somewhat bemused at
Gabrielle's boldness. Astutely noticing his beloved's less than
enthusiastic reaction to his response, he added, "It's easy to see
the origins of Buffy's beauty and courage."

"Nice save," murmured Xander, unwillingly impressed by the vampire's
quick thinking. Apparently Buffy thought so too, for with a slight
nod and a smile she quietly went to the task of closing the door to
the treasure room.

"Not really," Willow commented wryly. "Buffy might have bought it,
but I don't think Xena's too pleased."

This analysis was borne out by the warrior princess' rigid stance
and grim expression (both of which were mirrored, if less obviously,
by Joxer). Turning abruptly to Giles, she asked, "Now that the
social amenities are out of the way, where do we go from here?"

Thinking quickly, Giles answered, "As you can see, fashions have
changed substantially in the last three thousand years. If you went
above as you are, you would attract all sorts of unwanted attention.
Still, we can't stay here. It's only a matter of time before the
Master's minions return here to attempt to salvage *something* from
last night's defeat."

"They can stay at my place," Angel offered. "It's not too far, I
don't have any parents or nosy neighbors to worry about, and we
don't have to go above ground to get there. It *is* a bit small, but
it would make a good base of operations, at least to start with."

"Excellent idea!" approved Giles, "I was about to suggest it myself.
It's really the only practical solution."

                         *   *   *   *   *

Since no one disagreed they set out, and within half an hour arrived
at Angel's basement apartment. The trip was uneventful, and Giles
(in his role as host to the visitors) spent the time attempting to
prepare them for their upcoming contact with the technology of the
modern world. He tried very hard to keep the explanations as general
and low tech as possible, concentrating on how things appeared and
what they did. How successful he was remained problematical; while
Gabrielle asked quite a few questions and seemed to understand most
of the answers, both Xena and Joxer remained silent. Xena's only
comment came after Giles explained electricity as tamed lightning;
"No wonder Zeus retired!"

As Angel had predicted, it was indeed a bit crowded with eight
people standing around, but after a little jostling for position
everyone found a comfortable position to sit or stand. There was a
brief moment of silence, as everyone waited for someone else to
continue the discussion.

Surprisingly it was Joxer started the discussion. "What about
clothes?" he asked. "We can't just sit around waiting for Callisto
to come for us! Not that she wouldn't, but I'd rather that *we*
choose the ground for that battle."

Giles rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Either Angel or Xander might
have something for you, and I think that some of Buffy's clothes
will probably fit Gabrielle." Giles turned to Xena, and frowned
slightly. "You, however, present a bit of a problem. The few ladies
of my acquaintance are not quite so ..."

"Large?" supplied Gabrielle helpfully.

"I was going to use the term 'statuesque'," countered Giles, "but
under the circumstances it seemed slightly less than diplomatic."

As the meanings in the statement filtered through the translation
spell, Xena started, then with a raised eyebrow and a small smile
replied, "As your friend said earlier, good call." A bit more
seriously she continued. "If it's a matter of finances, I did not
come unprepared. I do hope that gold and silver still have *some*
value." She unhooked a leather pouch from her belt, and poured out a
small handful of coins.

With a slight hesitation Giles carefully picked one of the coins
from Xena's hand, and examined it as best he could in the dim light.
"I've seen drawings and photographs of coins like this," he said
with a tremble in his voice, "but I never dreamed I would ever see
one in person, much less hold one. Outside of this room, there can't
be more than a dozen like it left in the whole world." Reverently he
gave it back to Xena.

"That means it's worth a lot of money, right?" Xander asked.

"A similar coin was sold in London five years ago for more than two
million American dollars. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on
your point of view), because of their excellent condition nobody
would ever believe these coins were anything except modern replicas,
worth only a few hundred dollars for their metal content alone."
Seeing the other's disappointment, he quickly added, "This actually
works *for* us. The proceeds should be more than enough for our
purposes, and we won't draw nearly the attention we would trying to
dispose of a world class antiquity."

Buffy spoke up. "Sounds like a trip to the mall is in order. My mom
set aside some of her out-of-style clothes to be donated to charity.
I'm sure I saw an oversize sweatshirt and jogging pants which Xena
can wear while we're shopping."

"I take it," said Xena, "this mall is some sort of public market?"

Buffy nodded. "An indoor market, with dozens of self-contained shops
under one roof. Including, I believe," she said looking pointedly at
Giles, "a jeweler who buys precious metals."

"Good," Xena said, ignoring the incredulous looks of the others, "A
market is always the best place to get a feel for what's going on in
a new town." //Plus I'll find out just how much freedom your friends
are willing to give us,// she thought. While she was fairly certain
she had aligned herself with the right side, there was something odd
about this Angel person that she didn't entirely trust.

"I hope you're not planning to leave me behind," said Gabrielle,
"because I tell you right now it's not going to happen."

"Double for me," added Joxer, "After all, we're a team, right? Why
should you have all the fun?"

About to object, Giles suddenly realized that it might be a good
thing to have his guests' first exposure to the modern world in a
controlled environment like a mall. "I'll agree on two conditions.
First, each of you will be accompanied by your respective descendant
at all times, who will act as your guide and advisor. Believe me,
based on my brief experiences with this American institution, you
will need all the help you can get." It seemed like as reasonable
precaution to Xena, so she nodded, and the others followed suit.
"And second, you must leave your largest weapons here. I'm afraid
that not only would swords and a fighting staff draw unwanted
attention, they are also quite illegal to carry in public."

"Small weapons are permitted then?" Xena asked, reluctantly drawing
her sword and laying it on the coffee table.

"Actually, no," admitted Buffy, "but if you're discrete about hiding
them, there shouldn't be a problem. I know I've never had any. Just
try to look harmless."

"No problem, I can do that." Noticing the skeptical looks directed
her way, Xena blurted, "What?!? You don't believe me?"

                      <-- to be continued -->
--
          +-------------------------------------------------+
          | Dalton S. Spence, B.Sc. <[e-mail]>|
          | Home Page: http://www.hwcn.org/~ag775/home.html |
          +-------------------------------------------------+



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

From: "Kimela M Wilker"<[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Pleasant Dreams Prologe&Pt1/?
Date: 26 Oct 1997 01:57:29 -0600


     Story: Pleasant Dreams
     Author: Kimela
     E-mail: [e-mail] (Comments and Suggestions are always
             welcome!)
     Distribution: Anya and Zandarah, others please ask.

     Disclaimer:  These characters do not belong to me, they are property
     of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc...

     Author's note:  The prologue of Pleasant Dreams takes place during the
     BTVS epidsode When She was Bad, Part One takes up the Thursday evening
     immediately following.  The story was inspired by a question several
     friends noted:  Why didn't the vampires kill Xander when they abducted
     the others from the library?


     Prologue


          The boy had fought hard-Adrious had to give him credit for that.
     What he had lacked in strength and skill, he had made up for with
     sheer determination.  He had gone completely berserk when Ohna and a
     couple of her cronies had grabbed his little girlfriend, the auburn
     haired lass.  If he hadn't been so outnumbered, he might actually have
     stood a chance against them.  He had certainly given them a run for
     their money, nearly taking down one of the young fledglings before
     Adrious stepped in, knocking the boy out cold before he even knew the
     older vampire was present.  It was almost a shame to kill him now-he
     might have become a formidable foe if given the chance.  Fortunately,
     Adrious didn't have a conscience.  He lifted the unconscious male and
     prepared to feast, ignoring the feeble protests of Ohna's captive.
          "No," the Anointed One stopped him.
          "But we don't need him!" Adrious objected.  "He wasn't with the
     master when-"
          "He raised the slayer.  Death is too good for him."  Adrious
     reluctantly set the young male back on the floor.  He watched
     curiously as the demon child placed a hand on the boy's chest and
     uttered some words that he could not comprehend.  When finished with
     the ritual, the Anointed again acknowledged Adrious.  "I want him to
     suffer first."
          Adrious could respect that.  Besides, he could always feed later.
      He grinned as he picked up the older male captive and carried him
     from the ruins of the Sunnydale High Library.


     Part One

          Willow Rosenberg gazed longingly at the boy sleeping on her
     living room sofa.  The video they had been watching had ended nearly
     an hour earlier, but she hadn't had the heart to wake him.  She loved
     watching him sleep.  He looked so peaceful, so innocent and
     vulnerable.
          For as long as she could remember, Willow had been in love with
     Xander Harris.  She had long ago resigned herself to the fact that it
     would probably always be an unrequited love, but since that night in
     the park, she had renewed hope.  Her pulse quickened as she recalled
     how close he had come to kissing her.  She could still feel his breath
     on her lips and the soft touch of his hand on her cheek...If only that
     vampire hadn't chosen that exact moment to make his presence known!
     Xander had been so brave during that attack.  He had been willing to
     sacrifice himself so that she could escape to safety.  Fortunately, he
     had been able to hold the blood sucker off until Buffy Summers arrived
     on the scene to rescue him.  While she was grateful that Buffy had
     been there to save them, it disappointed her that the Slayer once
     again became the focus of Xander's attention.  It was, however, a
     small consolation that he didn't seem nearly as hung up on Buffy as he
     had been prior to the Slayer's absence during summer vacation.  In
     fact, he had nearly renounced his friendship to the Slayer after she
     failed to prevent the assault in the library.  Had that really been
     only two nights ago?
          Willow couldn't remember having ever been as scared as she had
     been when the vampires had ambushed her, Giles, and Xander that night.
      While Giles was good at instructing Buffy on defeating vampires and
     demons, he himself was no fighter.  The Watcher had been knocked out
     could almost immediately.  She hadn't fared much better.  Three of the
     fiends had quickly captured and restrained her.  Only Xander had put
     up much of a fight, but even he was no match for them.  She still
     wasn't sure why the Anointed One had spared him, but the child had
     stopped one of the vampires from feeding on Xander's blood after they
     had finally subdued him.  Even then, she wasn't sure that Xander was
     all right until it was all over.  She remembered being taken to the
     old warehouse, being knocked out, and then waking up in Xander's
     arms...
          Willow's focus returned to Xander as he began to whimper and
     thrash in his sleep.  Beads of sweat appeared on his suddenly pale
     face.  She quickly moved to his side.  "Xander?" she called gently,
     reaching out to cautiously shake him.  He jerked away from her touch,
     as if she had hit him.  "Xander?"  Again she reached for him.
          Xander awoke with a gasp.  He stared up at Willow, his eyes wide
     with fright.  After a moment, a look of disorientation replaced the
     terror.  "Willow?"
          Willow smiled down at him.  "Welcome back to the land of the
     living.  That must have been some dream you were having."  She knelt
     down beside him, giving him a questioning look.
          Xander blinked.  For a few seconds he appeared lost in thought,
     then he shook his head.  "I...don't know.  I can't remember."  He ran
     his fingers through his dampened hair and took a deep breath, pulling
     himself together.  He couldn't recall what the nightmares were about,
     but since they had started the night of the assault in the library, he
     had a pretty good guess as to what triggered them.
          "Are you okay?" Willow asked, obviously concerned.
          Xander's mouth formed a smile, but Willow noticed that the smile
     didn't reach his eyes.  "Yeah...Sure...Great."  He looked away,
     embarrassed by her scrutinizing stare.  "Maybe I should...uh...be
     getting home.  What time is it, anyway?"
          Willow glanced at her watch.  "A little after midnight."
     Xander's mom would be at work by now.  He would be going home to an
     empty house as usual.  But, Willow reasoned, if he was having
     nightmares, maybe he shouldn't be alone.  "Are you sure you don't want
     to stay here?  I can get you a blanket."
          He sat up.  "Nah.  I'm okay.  I just need to get home, take a
     shower, and get some sleep..." he trailed off as he gazed down at her
     worried face.  He smiled again, fully this time.  "Will, I'm okay," he
     assured her.  "Really."  On a whim, he reached out and caressed her
     cheek.  He fought the sudden urge to lean forward and kiss her.  He
     could imagine how that would go over.  The last thing he wanted to do
     was jeopardize their friendship.  God only knew what she would think
     if he just kissed her out of the blue...He let his hand linger for
     just a moment longer, then forced himself to stand up, afraid that he
     wouldn't be able to resist his impulse much longer.  He didn't
     understand his feelings lately.  This was Willow he was thinking
     about.  She was practically a sister to him.  And yet...he didn't let
     his mind complete the thought.
          Willow watched Xander as he turned to leave.  She tensed as a
     sudden feeling of dread unexpectedly consumed her.  All of her
     instincts told her that she should stop him, make him stay with her.
     She was sure that something horrible was going to happen to him.  She
     resisted the feeling of panic-she was just being ridiculous.  He only
     lives a few blocks away-nothing is going to happen to him, she tried
     to reassure herself.  She rose to her feet and followed him to the
     door.  It took all of her willpower not to grab him and beg him to
     stay.
          Xander turned as he reached the door.  "Goodnight, Will," he
     spoke softly.  He pushed open the door, but paused before stepping
     outside.  "Pleasant dreams."
          And then he was gone.







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

From: sah <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: ADMIN:  List rules
Date: 27 Oct 1997 12:56:24 -0600

Welcome!  This list is for fiction related to "Buffy The Vampire
Slayer," both the TV series and the movie.  To ensure that we all get
to enjoy as much fiction as possible, please adhere to the following
guidelines, and please save them for future reference.

1. Fiction should have Buffy characters in it and clearly be related
to Buffy.  Crossovers are great, and expected, but general
vampire/monster stories that aren't in the Buffy universe and don't
use Buffy characters belong somewhere else.

2. Discussion of posted fiction is permitted onlist.  Please put
"DISCUSS" in your subject line.  Requests for missing story parts
should go directly to the author, and not be posted to the list.

Discussion that is not related directly to the fiction should go over
to the general Buffy list.  Discussion of fiction is expected to
follow common netiquette guidelines and use PG-13 language.

3. No advertising of <any> items or services, Buffy related or not,
and no posting of non-story items such as .gifs, sound files, etc..
No attached files of <any> kind-- if your mailer makes your fiction
into attached files, you need to find another way to get it to the list.

4. If you're writing a story and including advance information on a
new episode, and you're posting your story earlier than the national
viewing time, please:

     **Mark the post as a "spoiler" in the subject header.
     **Leave about twelve lines (blank or with non-spoiler info) at
          the top of the post.

This ensures that anyone who doesn't like knowing about an episode
ahead of time is "protected."  :)   The blank space is for people whose
mailers automatically open up the next piece of mail, without giving
them a chance to see "spoiler" in the header.

Spoiler warnings are not necessary after the start of the episode's
national viewing time, which is currently set at 9 p.m. Mondays,
Eastern Standard Time.  Spoiler warnings are not necessary for reruns.

5.  This list is absolutely NOT for erotic fiction.  <Nothing> stronger
than sexually PG-13 material is to be posted to the list under any
circumstances.  A story may be R rated for violence or language,
however.

If you have a question about something's suitability for posting, feel
free to ask one of the listowners.  Sending sexually explicit material
will get you immediately and permanently unsubscribed.  No exceptions.

6.  By subscribing and/or posting to this list, you acknowledge that
Buffy the Vampire slayer and all characters associated with either
the televised series or the motion picture were created by Josh Whedon
and are owned by Mutant Enemy productions, Kuzui Productions,
Sandollar Productions, and 20th Century Fox.  All stories posted to
this list are for entertainment purposes only, are not sold for profit
of any kind, and are not intended to infringe on any copyrights.

7.  When posting stories to the list, please follow the following
formatting guidelines
--No story parts longer than 250 lines
--No lines longer than 75 characters
--Turn off your "smart quotes"-- many readers receive these as garbage
or weird symbols
--Put the title of the story in the subject header, indicate if it's a
multipart story, and if so what part this is.  Example:   Buffy Meets
Godzilla (2/65) indicates that this post is part two of a 65 part story.

8. If a story is rated "R" for language/violence, indicate this in an
introduction.  For example, "There's a really bloody fight scene at
the end of this part" or "if you don't like dismemberment, stop
reading now!"  If there's <any> chance that someone might be disturbed
by something in your story (even if it's not rated R) please include
some kind of warning up front.

9.  And last, but not least, the listowners reserve the right to deny
subscription (new, renewed, or continued) to the list for any
individual(s).

PLEASE NOTE:  not following any or all of these rules will get you
the following:

**First offense:  offender is unsubscribed for one week.
**Second offense:  offender is unsubscribed to the Buffyfic list for a
minimum of three months.
**If the offender returns and does it again, they're offlist
permanently.

As noted above, posting sexually explicit material is the exception --
you go straight to permanent unsubbing.

Again, welcome!  If  you have any questions about these rules, please
contact either one of us offlist.  If you have subscription problems or
questions, the fastest way to get help is to e-mail one of us at the
addresses below, <not> at the [e-mail] addy which is the
"official" e-mail owner of the list.

Jill Kirby ([e-mail])
 &
sah ([e-mail])
Listowners, Buffy the Vampire Slayer Fiction List
[e-mail]



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

From: "Kimela M Wilker"<[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: BUFFYFIC Pleasant Dreams 2/?
Date: 28 Oct 1997 08:42:04 -0600


     Story: Pleasant Dreams
     Author: Kimela
     E-mail: [e-mail] (Comments and Suggestions are always
     welcome!)
     Distribution: Zandarah and Anya, others please ask.

     Disclaimer:  These characters do not belong to me, they are property
     of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc...


     Pleasant Dreams Part Two

          "Earth to Willow," Buffy quarried.  She had been trying to catch
     her friend's attention since she first spotted her from across the
     quad, but Willow had been in some sort of a daze.
          "Huh?" Willow snapped to attention.  "Oh.  Buffy."  The Slayer
     caught a note of disappointment in her friend's tone.
          "Hello to you, too.  Didn't you hear me calling you?"
          "Uh...no...sorry," Willow answered, distractedly.  "Have you seen
     Xander?"
          "No.  But then, it's only 8:10.  That would make him early.
     Xander is not especially known for his earliness."  One look at her
     friend's face told Buffy that something was wrong.  "What's up?"
          "I'm sure it's nothing," Willow timidly replied.
          Buffy could tell that her friend was keeping something from her.
     "Okay, Willow.  Spill."
          Willow sighed.  "It's just that he fell asleep at my place last
     night and he had kind of a...a nightmare, I guess.  Oh, this is
     stupid..."
          Buffy felt relieved.  If that was all... "He had a nightmare, so
     now you're worried about him.  I've said it before, and I'll say it
     again.  You've got it bad, girl.  Everyone has a bad dream now and
     than.  Besides, after everything that we've been through, I'm amazed
     you're not both in therapy," Buffy quipped, hoping to cheer up her
     friend.
          Willow was unconvinced.  She shook her head.  "It's not just
     that.  When he left, I got this feeling that something bad was going
     to happen to him.  I can't explain it.  I was scared to let him out of
     my sight...Like if he left, he might never come back."
          "Will, I'm sure he's okay.  He'll be here.  Just you wait."
          Willow nodded unhappily.  With all her heart she wanted to
     believe the Slayer, but somehow she couldn't.  She wouldn't be able to
     believe it until she saw him for herself.

          "Heather Gunderson?"
          "Here!" a petite blonde in the back of the room called out.
          "Alexander Harris?"
          No answer.
          "Alexander?" Mr. Cox repeated, not looking up from his attendance
     book.  When there was still no reply, he put a little x in the
     `absent' box next to Xander's name.
          Willow contemplated the empty desk in front of hers.  Xander was
     supposed to be in that chair.  She turned to Buffy with a look of
     helplessness on her face.
          Buffy was already prepared to reassure her friend.  "He
     overslept.  He'll be here."  She didn't sound nearly as sure of
     herself as she had before.  Xander was usually late, true, but he also
     generally managed to be at his desk before roll call.  She made a
     mental note to try to call him after class.
          Willow, on the other hand, had no intention of waiting until
     after class to check on him.  No way was she going to sit through an
     hour of lecture while she worried.  What if something was really
     wrong?  She couldn't waste a whole hour before doing something about
     it.  She made herself wait until Mr. Cox called her name for
     attendance.  Then, she slipped quietly from the room, knowing full
     well that the teacher would never notice her absence.

          "Come on, pick up, pick up, pick up!" Willow pleaded with the
     phone.  She had already let it ring 15 times, but she wasn't yet
     willing to give up.  Her perseverance finally paid off.
          "Harris residence," Anna Harris answered.  She sounded out of
     breath, as if she had run to get the phone.
          "Ms. Harris, it's Willow.  Is Xander still there?"
          "Oh, good morning, Willow.  I'm not sure-I just got in the door.
     Did he oversleep?  What am I going to do with that boy?  Hang on.  Let
     me go get him."
          Willow closed her eyes and held her breath, waiting for Xander's
     mother to return.  "Xan?  You up?" she could hear Anna calling him in
     the background.  "Xander?"  Willow strained to hear if he replied.
          "Is he there?" a voice broke into Willow's concentration.  She
     opened her eyes to see Buffy studying her.
          "His mom is checking."  For each minute that passed, Willow's
     alarm increased.  What could possibly be taking so long?   Just when
     she thought she couldn't take the suspense any longer, she heard
     someone rapidly approaching the phone.  Her heart raced in
     anticipation.  To her shock, however, she heard the phone on the other
     end being slammed down and a dial tone sounded in her ear.  She
     blinked.  What was going on?  She quickly dialed the Harris residence
     again.  This time, all she got was the busy signal.  "Noooo," she
     moaned.
          "Willow, what happened?"
          "I don't know.  They hung up.  Now it's busy.  Buffy, what is
     going on?"
          "Come on.  Let's go find out."  Buffy grabbed the phone from
     Willow and hung it up.  "We'll see if we can borrow the rustmobile
     from Giles."

          It was only ten minutes later that they arrived at the Harrises'
     house, but to Willow it felt like an eternity.  To her horror, there
     were two police cars and an ambulance parked in the driveway.  The
     front door was wide open, so they didn't bother with the formality of
     knocking.  They could hear a commotion from within the basement, where
     Xander's room was located.
          "Xander?" Willow called, hurrying down the stairs, ahead of
     Buffy.
          Anna Harris met Willow at the bottom of the stairwell.  Her eyes
     were red from crying.  "Willow," she sobbed as she pulled the girl
     into a hug.
          Willow's heart lurched.  Oh, God, he's dead, she thought
     irrationally.  He can't be...he can't be...
          "What's happened?" Buffy asked, seeing the look of absolute
     resignation on her friend's face.  "Is Xander okay?"
          "He's-they think he's having some...some sort of drug...drug
     induced seizure," Anna wept.  "We can't snap him out of it."
          "Drugs?" Buffy sounded doubtful.  "But Xander wouldn't..."she
     looked to Willow to confirm what she was sure she knew.
          "Of course he wouldn't," Willow agreed.  She felt better now that
     she realized that he was alive.  She pulled away from Anna and started
     toward Xander's room.
          Anna grabbed her arm.  "No, don't.  He's...they're trying to
     restrain him.  When I tried to wake him he...it was like he was
     terrified of me...like I was trying to kill him."  She looked
     powerlessly at Willow.  "He was like a wild animal."
          Buffy and Willow exchanged glances.  They had both immediately
     recalled the time Xander had been possessed by hyenas.  Perhaps the
     problem hadn't been solved after all?  But that was months ago, Willow
     reasoned.  Surely he would have shown signs before now.  Besides,
     while he was possessed by hyenas he certainly hadn't seemed afraid of
     anything.  No, this was something else.
          At last, two disheveled police officers emerged from the bedroom.
      Both looked quite angry.  One was nursing a swollen jaw.  "We have
     the juvenile restrained. Since the substance is unknown, we are unable
     to sedate him.  ETA is 4 minutes," he was speaking into his police
     radio.  He walked past the three women and continued up the stairs.
     The second officer stopped.  Willow glanced at his name tag.  Office
     McCann.  He glared at the two girls.
          "I don't suppose you two know what the boy was taking?"  There
     was an accusatory tone to his voice.
          "Oh, Xander wouldn't-" Willow began to explain, but the officer
     cut her off.
          "Look, we're trying to help your friend.  The sooner we know what
     he's taken, the sooner we'll know how to counteract it."
          "Look, officer..." Buffy started, ready to give him a piece of
     her mind.  She trailed off as the paramedics emerged from the room
     with Xander strapped down on their gurney.  He was battling the
     restraints as if he was fighting for his life.  His eyes were wild
     with fear.  It was clear that he had no comprehension of what was
     going on around him.
          "Let me go, you mother bloodsucker!" Xander growled.
          Willow leapt forward and reached for him.  He screamed hoarsely
     at her touch.
          "Shhhh...Xander," she tried to soothe him with a calm voice.  He
     relaxed slightly for a moment, but then tensed as she brushed the hair
     back from his forehead.  She was amazed by how much heat radiated from
     his body.  He had to be running an awfully high fever, which would
     account for whatever hallucinations he seemed to be having...She moved
     along side the stretcher until the paramedics loaded it into the
     ambulance.  She tried to climb in after it, but Officer McCann stopped
     her.
          "I've got to ask you some more questions.  You'll ride with me,"
     Officer McCann informed her coldly.  "You can see your friend at the
     hospital."
          Willow felt numb as she was led away from the ambulance.  She
     didn't know if she could stand the wait.





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

From: "Kimela M Wilker"<[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: BUFFYFIC Pleasant Dreams 3/?
Date: 28 Oct 1997 08:46:42 -0600


     Story: Pleasant Dreams
     Author: Kimela
     E-mail: [e-mail] (Comments and Suggestions are always
     welcome!)
     Distribution: Zandarah and Anya, others please ask.

     Disclaimer:  These characters do not belong to me, they are property
     of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc...

     Rated PG-13 for some violence


     Pleasant Dreams Part 3

          He had laughed in the face of danger, and now Xander was hiding
     in a small, heavily shadowed cove.  He know that he must be having
     another nightmare, but it seemed to him that he should have waken up
     hours ago.  He remembered setting his alarm, but he must have slept
     through it.  Perhaps he had forgotten to turn it on?  Why hadn't his
     mom wakened him when she got home from work?  Oh, God, he wanted to
     wake up.  He had never really been afraid of the dark, but right then,
     he would have given anything to see the light of day.  He had been
     having nightmares for the past couple of nights, but this was the
     worst one he had ever endured.  He felt like he had faced just about
     everything that had ever scared him-vampires, snakes, Nazis, Cordelia,
     you name it, he had faced it.
          At first he had handled things pretty well.  He had learned to
     face his fears last spring when everyone's nightmares had come to
     life.  The longer this dream had continued, however, the worse it had
     gotten.  He had passed his breaking point hours ago, and now was able
     only to huddle in his corner and pray that nothing else found him
     before he woke.  He sat on the cold cave floor, his knees drawn to his
     chest and his back to the wall.  He wrapped his arms around his chest
     partially to try to calm himself, and partly because he was freezing.
          Xander tensed as he heard something approaching.  Please don't
     let it find me, his mind pleaded.  He closed his eyes, not wanting to
     face whatever was coming.  He didn't think he could take any more.
          "Xander?" a soft voice called.
          He knew that voice.  Willow?  She can't be here, he reasoned,
     because this is only a dream.  It had to be a trick.  He nearly jumped
     out of his skin as he felt a hand on his shoulder.  He shrieked and
     leapt to his feet, nearly knocking Willow over.  He couldn't believe
     his eyes.  "Willow?"  His voice was weak and shaky.
          "Xander," she acknowledged.  Xander grabbed her into a hug.  He
     had never been so glad to see anyone as he was to see her at that
     moment.  "It's okay, Xander.  You're okay."
          "Are you really here?"  She hugged him back as a response.  All
     at once, he felt stronger, as if she had passed some of her energy to
     him.  After what seemed like hours, he released her from his embrace.
     He felt as though he was strong enough to handle anything.  He wasn't
     alone anymore.  "Come on.  Let's get out of here."
          "Where are we?"
          "I don't know.  I thought I was having a nightmare, but if you're
     here...How did you find me, anyway?"  Willow smiled, but didn't
     answer.  Instead, she took his hand and started to lead him from the
     cove.  He noticed, for the first time, that her hand was cold.
     Considering how chilled he was, he figured that she must have been in
     the cave even longer than he had been.  He wished that he had
     something to put around her to warm her up.  Since he didn't, he
     pulled her close and put his arms around her.  Her whole body was cold
     against his.  "Geez, Will, and I thought I was freezing.  We've got to
     get you warmed up."
          Xander nearly fell as Willow roughly shoved him away from her.
     "We don't have time," she said in explanation.  "We've got to keep
     moving."  Xander hesitated only a moment before following her out of
     his hiding place.  Her reaction and her strength had thrown him for a
     loop, but he recovered quickly.  "I think I came this way," she
     announced as she again took his hand and led him down a dark path.  "I
     did get kind of turned around, though."
          "Me, too," he admitted.  "I kind of lost track of where I was
     going when I was running from..." he trailed off, embarrassed that
     another stupid clown had frightened him.  He had thought he had that
     fear conquered until everything that had ever scared him bombarded him
     all in one night.  He wondered how much Willow had endured.  She
     seemed to have held up pretty well, whatever had happened to her.  He
     felt self-conscious about the fact that he had been in such a sorry
     state when she had found him.  He quickened his pace so that he was
     walking in front of her, prepared to be her protector if needed.
          They walked for several minutes without speaking before Xander
     started to get unnerved by the quiet.  "So, do you suppose Buffy's
     around here somewhere?" he asked, just to break the silence.  He heard
     Willow sigh irritably behind him.  He wondered absently if it was his
     talking that upset her, or if his mention of the Slayer had somehow
     annoyed her.  They entered a larger cavern.  "I mean, if she's here,
     we should try to find-"
          Without warning, Willow's hand jerked from his grasp.  Xander
     whirled to face her and was caught completely off guard as she tackled
     him, knocking him to the floor.  Immediately, she was upon him,
     pinning him helplessly to the floor.  He stared up at her in disbelief
     as her features began to melt.  Her auburn hair shriveled and crumbled
     to dust while her skin darkened and started to crack.  At the same
     time, he could feel her fingernails extending into claws and cutting
     into his shoulders.  As he witnessed her face dissolve into a hideous
     mass, he became frozen with horror.  He made only a strangled gurgling
     noise in his throat as he tried to scream.
          "What's the matter, Xander?" the demon that had been Willow
     hissed, saliva dripping from her still forming jaws.  She grinned down
     at him, her fangs thickening and elongating with every moment that
     passed.  "Aren't I good enough company for you?"
          Xander struggled to free himself from the demon's grip.  He
     pushed against her with all of his strength, and was appalled to feel
     his hands breaking through her bubbling flesh and sinking into a
     putty-like substance.  He fought the hysteria that was trying to take
     hold of him as he grappled with the demon.  It was no use, he couldn't
     fight her.  He was going to die...
          She lowered her face until it was inches from his, paralyzing him
     with her icy stare.  He flinched as she traced his jawbone with one of
     her sharp talons.  "I could kill you right now," she informed him
     gleefully, deriving immense pleasure from his fear.  He felt violently
     ill as she ran her tongue down his cheek.  She laughed maniacally at
     his revulsion.  "Yes, I could kill you, but that wouldn't be much fun,
     would it?"
          Xander's instincts told him that death would be the most merciful
     fate this demon would offer him, but he didn't want to die.  He tried
     once again to fight his way out from beneath her.  To his surprise,
     after only a moment she released him.  She smirked at him as he
     scrambled to get out of her reach.  "Better run, Xander," she teased.
     "I might have a change of heart."
          Now that he was momentarily free from her, Xander's fear turned
     to anger.  He didn't like being a demon's plaything.  He turned to
     face her again and was astonished to find himself alone.  Had he
     imagined the whole thing?  Was he going crazy?  He closed his eyes and
     took several deep breaths, calming himself down.  One thing remained
     clear in his mind.  He had to get out of there.  He had to wake up, or
     if, God forbid, he wasn't dreaming, he had to find the way out of the
     cave.  There was no way he was going to permit himself to deteriorate
     back into the spineless coward that he had allowed himself to become.
     If he was going to die, it was going to be fighting, not cowering.
          With new resolve, Xander chose one of the path's leading out of
     the cavern, hoping that it would prove to be the way out.  He walked
     for only a few minutes before he sensed that something was watching
     him.  He tensed, preparing himself to fight whatever came his way.
     "Come out, you loser," he muttered.  He'd be damned if he was going to
     let whatever was out there scare him.
          "Xan?  You up?" a voice that sounded like his mother echoed
     through the passage.  "Xander?"
          For a split second Xander felt intense relief.  It was over.  His
     mom was waking him up, in a moment his eyes would open and-
          The sound of the demon's maniacal laughter ruined his moment of
     ease.  "Fool," she hissed in his ear.  He spun to face her, and
     instantly found himself flat on his back, pinned once again beneath
     her.   She grinned down at him.  "Wake up, Xander," she jeered, using
     his mother's voice.  "Come on, Xan."
          Xander became enraged.  He started growling and clawing at the
     demon, trying to find some sort of weak spot so that he could hurt
     her.  She grabbed his arms and pinned them back down, amused by his
     feeble efforts.  "Hang in there, Xander, I'm going for help.  I can't
     do this on my own," she teased.  As abruptly as she had appeared, she
     retreated.
          For a few minutes, Xander lay still, not sure if it was worth the
     effort to keep moving.  He was sure that she wasn't finished toying
     with him.  She was probably waiting for him to start feeling safe
     again, then she would be back.  This time, he was going to be ready
     for her.  With new determination he stood up and scanned the cave
     floor for something that he could use for a weapon.  The only thing
     that he could find was a large stone.  He stooped to pick it up.  When
     he rose to his feet he found himself surrounded by vampires.  He
     looked them over apprehensively.  "Five to one...I'd say that's pretty
     fair."  He lunged at the first one, smashing the rock into it's face.
     It howled and pulled back, clutching it's jaw.  The other four
     descended upon him.
          One of them grabbed his wrists and pried the rock from his grasp.
      A second quickly moved behind him, trying to wrap its arms around
     him.  He borrowed a move from Buffy and smashed the vampire with the
     back of his head.  It fell back against the cave wall and collapsed to
     the ground in a heap.  "Like a charm..."  His victory was short lived.
      The other three vampires were all over him, knocking him to the floor
     and kneeling on his outstretched limbs.  He struggled against them,
     but the odds were not in his favor.  He fought the best that he could,
     but it soon became apparent that they had him pretty much in their
     control.  They bound him to some sort of a board, careful to keep his
     arms pinned to his sides and his legs immobile.
          "Go tell them we're on our way," one of his captors ordered the
     bloodsucker who had taken the blow to the jaw.
          "With pleasure," it responded and headed down the dark corridor,
     followed by a second vampire.
          The other three hovered over him, picking him up.  He strained
     against his bonds, praying that he would get loose before they reached
     their destination.  "Take it easy," one of them hissed in his ear.
     "We'll take good care of you..."
          He began to panic again as they started to carry him back toward
     the cavern where he had first fought the demon.  He didn't want to
     face her again.  "Let me go, you mother blood sucker!"  He exerted
     every muscle in his body in a war against the ropes.
          Suddenly the demon was hovering over him again.  He cried out as
     it grabbed his arm.  It had resumed Willow's form.  "Shhhh...Xander,"
     she soothed in an amazingly convincing Willow voice.  For an instant
     he actually found himself believing that it was Willow and he relaxed
     a little.  She laughed at his foolishness and transformed back to its
     true appearance.  Mortals could be so easy to manipulate...
          For several minutes he remained strapped to the board as they
     carried him deep into their lair.  When at last they reached their
     destination, they set him down on a large stone table, but didn't
     untie him.  He saw the vampires conversing with the demon for a few
     moments before all but one of them left the cove.  The remaining fiend
     moved to his side.  It sneered at him.  "I need to give your blood a
     little test."  Its grin widened as it started leaning toward his neck.
      He tried to bash it with his head, and succeeded in backing it away
     from his exposed neck.  The bloodsucker scowled at him.  "Fine, have
     it your way."  It bent down, and sank its teeth into Xander's arm.
          Xander squirmed, but he was powerless to keep the vampire from
     sucking blood from his bound arm.  The longer the vampire drank, the
     weaker he felt.  After a few minutes, he began to lose consciousness,
     convinced that he would either never waken, or that he would wake up
     without his soul.  He wondered briefly if Buffy would slay him.  Then
     everything went blank.
          When he woke, he found that he had been untied from the board,
     but that his arms and legs had been chained to the stone table.  The
     demon was staring intently into his face.  She smiled darkly down at
     him.  "Oh good, I was hoping you would wake up.  It's a lot more fun
     to kill when you can get a reaction.  So...Xander...How would you like
     to die?"  She ran her talon across his chest.  "Perhaps with a kiss?"
     He struggled as she lowered her face to his, covering his mouth with
     hers.  His first reaction was revulsion, which quickly subsided to
     panic as she began to suck the air from his lungs.  He couldn't
     breathe.  His chest tightened.  For a few minutes he felt as though
     his heart was going to explode, then all at once, he felt no pain.  He
     was fading from reality.  He felt as if he was floating.  He could see
     himself lying strapped to the table with the demon standing over him.
     She stepped back and contemplated his still body.  She smiled.  "Such
     a fragile thing, human life," she mused.  She placed her cold hands on
     his chest and sent a shock of electricity through him.  All at once he
     was back in his body looking up at her.  "That was good, but I don't
     think I'm ready to part with you just yet."  She laughed as he gasped
     for air.  "Welcome back, pet."  She stroked his hair.  "It's been a
     rough day, hasn't it...Why don't you get some rest and I'll be back to
     play with you later?"  She ran her hand over his face, closing his
     eyes.
          Xander wanted to argue, wanted to make her let him go, but he was
     so weak that he could only comply by falling into a deep dark sleep.





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

From: [e-mail] (Perri Smith)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Reflections (1/1)
Date: 28 Oct 1997 21:48:45 -0600 (CST)

Ms. Calendar has decided to start talking to me. Joy. Like I don't have
enough else to do. *sigh* Set during 'Some Assembly Required'. Big
thanks to Valerie, Tina, and Christina, for invaluable contributions.
And I'm quite pleased to say this was written well before 'Halloween'
aired.

All characters are property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy and are
used without permission for entertainment purposes only.

Reflections
by Perri Smith
Copyright 1997


Who knew?

I mean, who could possibly have known? At the time, it had seemed
like nothing out of the ordinary -- a new student and a new librarian,
both showing up after the start of the school year, and within a few
days of each other. No big. And if the student had a rather... colorful
reputation and the librarian was a too-perfect-to-be-believed stereotype
of a British scholar.... Well, that made it all the less likely that they
could be connected.

Truth be known, I hadn't really paid much attention to either of them
at first.  Giles made a habit of hiding out in his library, as if he was
afraid to step foot outside his precious books into the real world. And
Buffy... if my star pupil hadn't become her best friend, I doubt I would
have given her a second thought, since she wasn't in any of my classes.

That's how they get away with it, with keeping such a massive secret
from everyone around them. Who would suspect staid, proper Giles of
believing in anything so outlandish and impractical as vampires? Or
that a known troublemaker and partygirl like Buffy made a habit of
fighting them?

Who would suspect that blonde little Buffy was capable of risking her
life to save the world? Or that Giles could pick up a weapon, be it a
book or a sword, and determinedly help her?

I shake my head and adjust my ponytail in the mirror for the fourth or
fifth time. I just can't seem to get it to look right tonight.

I've always thought of myself as more perceptive than your average
bear -- a people reader, who can take one look at someone and give you
a pretty accurate rundown on who and what they are. I used to pride
myself on that ability, until it was conclusively proven that I could be
just as blind as anyone else in Sunnydale.

I like to think that, eventually, I would have noticed Giles as
something other than the guy lurking in the corners of every teachers
meeting he was forced to attend. I like to think that, eventually, I'd
have looked beneath the tweed and the sweater vests and seen the man
I'm starting to understand is there. But I don't know.

Oh, I enjoyed harrassing him, when I got the chance; I'm not going to
try to deny that. We're total opposites on the surface, which makes him
an easy target. But there just hadn't been all that much interaction
between us until my computer class wound up scanning books in his
library. I keep telling myself that, hoping it'll make me feel like less of
an idiot.

If Moloch the Corrupter hadn't wound up in the Sunnydale High
School computer system.... If Giles and Buffy had figured out a way to
stop him on their own.... If Giles hadn't need my Circle to exorcise
him....

My sweater seems too bright in the overhead light. School colors, rah,
rah. Do I look too juvenile? I like yellow... Does he? Gods, I sound like
I'm Buffy's age again. Now there's a terrible thought.

I probably would have found out in time, of course. I'd already begun
to have my suspicions about the body count, as student after student
died. Dave and Fritz's deaths would have been the ones that forced me
to investigate on my own, and I like to think I'd have figured things
out sooner or later. Oh, probably not about the Slayer and her Watcher.
But about the vampires and the Hellmouth, at the very least.

Would I have tracked the vampires back to Buffy and Giles? Here's
where my ability to kid myself hits a brick wall. No, I probably
wouldn't have. Like I said, they're both damned good at playing their
roles -- although Buffy still slips up now and again. Giles has had
longer to practice, I suppose; I wonder how much of his librarian facade
is really him, and how much is just camoflague, picked up and
polished over the years? I wonder if even he knows anymore.

Maybe I would have figured out Buffy was involved; between her
reputation and the sheer volume of weaponry she tends to carry
around, the pieces would have clicked sooner or later. And if they
hadn't, Willow or Xander would have given it away.

Or maybe not. They've both grown into their role of Slayerettes, as I've
heard Willow refer to herself. If I look back to just the beginning of last
semester, I can see the change in them both. Willow obviously, since
I've seen her every day of school for the last two years -- her once-
paralyzing shyness has all but disappeared, worn more like a habit now
than because she's truly afraid. She speaks up for herself, and doesn't
cower in fear of Cordelia anymore. And the quiet, unassuming little
hacker takes on vampires and demons with barely more than a flinch.
Part of me worries about her -- on the surface, she's the least suited to
be doing this. But part of me suspects she's stronger than any of us.

To bang or not to bang? I fuss with them, flipping them first on, then
off my forehead. Neither way satisfies me tonight; I settle for
something in between. It's only a football game after all. And dinner.
It's not like it's a real date.

Xander. Now there's another one I never paid much attention to. He
avoids the computer lab with almost the same intensity that Giles does,
although in his case, it's an allergy to classrooms rather than to
computers. If I'd had to think about him, I probably wouldn't have
bothered to do much more than put him in something labelled,
'Student, male, 16, annoying.'

But I remember his face the night we thought Buffy was going to die,
the sheer, adult resolve as he headed out to do whatever he had to to
save his friend. I know, now, that he tracked down Angel, quite
possibly the person he dislikes most in the world, on the off-chance
that Angel could take him to the Master, on the off-chance that the two
of them together could defeat a vampire king. Reckless? Yes. Stupid?
Hell yes, even *he* admits that.  Brave? Undeniably.

Then there was the way he and Angel rescued the four of us -- me,
Giles, Willow, and Cordelia -- when the Anointed One tried to sacrifice
us. The boy got us free, then cradled Willow in his arms until she
woke, as if he could protect her by sheer force of will.

And Angel -- Gods, now there's a book to judge by its cover. A
vampire, one a couple of centuries old, who looks like a college student
and acts more like Giles than either of them would like to admit. I just
don't want to go there, really. I'll have to, eventually -- judging from
the looks he and Buffy exchange, he's here to stay, and it doesn't look
like I'm getting out of this any time soon. But I think I'll put it off for a
while. My worldview has been challenged enough lately, thanks.

Okay, my hair looks stupid, but it's not going to get any better. At least
my outfit looks pretty good -- attractive without being obvious, and
definitely suitable for a football game. It had better be, it's the third one
I've tried on.

It's something about Buffy, I think; everyone who wanders into her
sphere of influence finds themselves being stripped down to essentials
and put back together. Sure, part of it is that whole life-and-death-
situations thing, but part of it....

I don't know. Maybe it's seeing her risk herself for no other reason
than because she's the only one who can. It makes you feel ashamed,
and guilty, and challenged at this basic level. Like 'If she can do it, so
can you, and by the way, why aren't you?'

Then there's just the force of her personality, which carries you along
whether you want to go or not. I've seen her eyes laughing as she
teases Giles, troubled as she deciphers prophecies, young and in love as
she looks at Angel, and hard and determined as she heads out to kill.
In another age, she could have been dangerous -- started crusades or
simply overthrown kingdoms. Here and now, she slays vampires and
flunks history.

Destiny's weird that way. I guess it's a good thing she does have
vampires to slay; otherwise those kingdoms might start looking pretty
good just out of boredom...

Oh, damn, I'm late. The game starts at 8:00, so I need to pick Rupert up
at 6:30 so we can get dinner. This was suppose to be a quick, run in,
change clothes, run back out stop. Instead, here I am, fussing in front of
the mirror like a high schooler with her first crush. Why am I letting
him do this to me?

Okay, I know why. It's because of his voice when he cast the spell to
take Moloch out of the 'Net. It's because of how he plays with his
glasses when he can't think of anything to say, and defends his 'musty
old books' to the death, and is scared to death of computers. It's because
of the look on his face when he told Buffy he would defy prophecy to
face the Master for her. It's because of his expression when the kids left
him today, and because of his adorable efforts to ask me out. If Willow
hadn't warned me ahead of time....

Gods, but he was cute, stammering and almost blushing and trying
desperately *not* to sound like an uptight Brit (I sense Buffy's hand in
that). I almost -- *almost* -- left him dangling; I admit it, I wanted him
to do the work. Sadistic, true, but it seemed fair. But his face just
dropped when I headed into my class, and he looked like so pathetic.
This man I'd seen pick up an axe to face a monster from the Black
Lagoon looked like a kicked puppy because he couldn't find the words
to ask me out. I didn't have a prayer.

This is probably a bad idea. A *really* bad idea. Giles is right in the
middle of a life that could easily get him killed, or leave him a
crumbled wreck if something ever happens to Buffy. His life is centered
around her and around vampires, and I'm standing here
contemplating trying to find a place for myself in that center. I must be
out of my mind.

But he turned to look for me first thing, when Xander and Angel
rescued us from the Anointed One. And I sometimes catch this look in
his eyes that makes my heart skip a beat, as cliched as that sounds. Of
all the men in all the world, why did I have to fall for this one?

Okay, enough of this. One last mirror check, then get in the car, pick up
Giles, enjoy watching him pretend he likes football, and just don't
*worry* about anything else. With luck, we'll have a nice dinner and
some good conversation (or a few arguments, which is pretty much the
same thing, as far as I'm concerned), nothing supernatural will
happen, and maybe he'll get up the nerve to kiss me goodnight. Or
maybe I'll kiss him.

Who knows?

Perri <[e-mail]>      I *am* the Buffy Evangalist!
NatPacker-*-Horsechick-*-Pretender-*-Cohenhead-*-DDEB2-*-AGA-*-SunS-*-CoJ
"I'm putting a collar with a little bell on that guy." -- Xander



-



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

From: [e-mail]
Subject: Re: BUFFYFIC: Reflections (1/1)
Date: 29 Oct 1997 12:44:46 -0500 (EST)


Oh.  That was so very.   Please.  Send MORE.

                                                            Thank You Much,





                                                                         -Syz

-



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

From: "Kimela M Wilker"<[e-mail]>
Subject: Re[2]: BUFFYFIC: Pleasant Dreams
Date: 29 Oct 1997 13:42:36 -0600



Hi Syz.

Thanks!  Parts 1-4 of the story are posted on Zandarah's Slayerette FanFic Site
(www.geocities.com/~zandarah) and I hope to have parts 5 & 6 up sometime this
weekend.  Thanks for reading & letting me know what you thought!  (I live for
feedback :D)

Kimela






-



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

From: "Kimela M Wilker"<[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: BUFFYFIC Pleasant Dreams 4/?
Date: 29 Oct 1997 17:04:17 -0600


     Story: Pleasant Dreams
     Author: Kimela
     E-mail: [e-mail] (Comments and Suggestions are always
     welcome!)
     Distribution: Zandarah and Anya, others please ask.

     Disclaimer:  These characters do not belong to me, they are property
     of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc...

     Pleasant Dreams Part 4

          It had been one of the longest days of Willow's life.  The ride
     to the hospital with Officer McCann had been horrible.  He had asked
     her all sorts of embarrassing questions about Xander, about her, about
     their relationship, but mostly about their activities from the night
     before.  He was unimpressed by her tale of Xander's nightmare-all he
     wanted to hear was what sort of drugs Xander might have ingested.
          The questions hadn't ended when they reached the hospital.
     Instead, McCann had started asking them all over again, this time with
     one of Xander's doctors listening in.  Neither one had believed Willow
     when she again insisted that she and Xander had done nothing wrong.
     The doctor even warned her that they were doing a blood test and the
     results would confirm what they already suspected.  "You're only
     slowing down his treatment," they had accused her.  They hadn't
     stopped hounding her until the lab results came back negative nearly
     an hour later.  Neither one apologized as they finally allowed her to
     go join Buffy and Anna in the waiting room.
          For the next couple of hours, the three women had waited without
     word of Xander's condition.  Then Buffy had lost her patience,
     cornered one of the nurses and convinced her that `a little
     information would be a good thing.'  The nurse didn't know much, but
     she was able to tell them that they had given Xander some sedatives to
     calm him down after he had attacked one of the other nurses for
     checking his blood pressure.  She had promised that she would keep
     them better informed of his progress.
          A flurry of activity in the middle of the afternoon had alerted
     the women that something had gone horribly wrong. "He's going to be
     okay," the nurse assured them, making sure they were calm before she
     continued.  "He stopped breathing and his heart stopped momentarily,
     but he's a fighter and they've got it going strong again."  His heart
     stopped?  Willow couldn't accept it.  Xander was young, strong, and
     until today, healthy.  How could his heart have stopped?
          When they had been informed,  a few minutes later, that Xander
     had slipped into a coma, Buffy managed to convince the nurse to let
     Anna sit with him.  Anna hugged the two girls and disappeared into her
     son's room.  Soon after that, Buffy left.  She had to return the car
     to Giles and meet her mother for dinner.  She promised Willow that she
     would be back as soon as her slayer duties allowed.
          Willow had called home shortly after five to alert her parents
     that she would not be home for dinner.  The Rosenbergs immediately
     came to the hospital to wait with their daughter.  Xander had
     practically been part of the family for years, and they wanted to be
     there to support Willow.  They stayed until it became clear that they
     would not be allowed in to see him.  They tried to convince Willow to
     come home with them, but she was determined not to leave until she had
     seen him, and knew for sure that he would be okay.  Her parents gave
     her permission to stay as long as she wanted, and offered to come get
     her if she changed her mind, no matter how late she wanted to call.
          Anna had to leave shortly after nine.  She wanted to skip work
     and stay with Xander, but she couldn't afford the loss of pay,
     especially not with new bills to consider.  She stopped to see Willow
     in the waiting room before she left.  She had little news to report
     about Xander's condition, only that he had opened his eyes, but was
     still unresponsive.  Doctors had been in and out of the room all day,
     running all sorts of tests, but they had yet to find out what was
     causing Xander's state of being.
          It was only after Willow had paced the waiting room floor alone
     for several hours that one of the night nurses at last took pity on
     her and allowed her access to Xander's room.  It was a shock to see
     him lying still and pale on the hospital bed.  He had been hooked up
     to all sorts of monitors, and the doctors had tied his limbs down to
     keep him from pulling wires loose and to keep him from fighting with
     the hospital staff should he have another seizure.  Even more
     unnerving to Willow was that his eyes, which normally sparkled with
     vitality, appeared dull and lifeless.  She sank down in the chair
     beside his bed, the stress of the day taking its toll.  Even now that
     she had seen him she wasn't able to truly relax.  She didn't think she
     would be able to rest until she found out what was wrong with him and
     was positive that he would be okay.  She watched him closely, feeling
     slightly better each time his chest rose and fell.
          "What will I ever do if you're not okay?" she asked him silently.
      "I don't think I could live without you.  You have no idea what you
     really mean to me, do you?  Of course you know that you are my best
     friend.  You are the best friend I could ever ask for.  You're there
     for me whenever I need you, wherever I need you.  There is no one in
     this world that I trust as completely as I trust you, Xander.  I don't
     know if I will ever love anyone quite the way that I love you.  I
     don't know if I even want to.  I know you don't love me the same way,
     but that doesn't even matter."   Willow wished she had the nerve to
     really tell Xander how she felt-when he was actually awake and well
     enough to listen.  She supposed that it was pretty pathetic that she
     felt comfortable telling him pretty much anything other than how she
     adored him.  She knew that he would never intentionally hurt her, but
     she was so afraid that the admission would push him away, make him
     feel uncomfortable being around her.  That would hurt more than
     anything else she could imagine.  She needed him to be close.
          Actually, right now, what she needed was to be close to him,
     needed to assure herself that he was truly going to live.  She crawled
     onto the bed next to him, careful not to dislodge any of the monitors.
      The heat his body emitted indicated that he was still fighting to
     stay alive.  She stroked his hair and stared down at his face.  "Come
     on, Xander," she whispered.  "You've got to wake up.  I need you..."
     Exhausted from a day of constant worry, she laid her head against his
     chest and fell asleep, listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart.



-