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buffyfic Digest         Monday, August 4 1997         Volume 01 : Number 008



In this issue:

    BUFFYFIC: Slayer Fanfic Archive UP!
    BUFFYFIC: The Weapon: Part VII/?
    BUFFYFIC: The Weapon: Part VII/?
    BUFFYFIC: Mailer problems
    BUFFYFIC: Secret World of Willow (00/?)
    BUFFYFIC: "Mad Moon in Scorpio" (1/6)
    BUFFYFIC: "Mad Moon in Scorpio" (2/6)

See the end of the digest for information on subscribing to the buffyfic
or buffyfic-digest mailing lists and on how to retrieve back issues.

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

Date: Fri, 01 Aug 1997 19:17:47 -0400
From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Slayer Fanfic Archive UP!

Hey all, just heard from Biohaz, one of the Archive's maintainers.  It ha
risen from the dead!  Let the Archive be live once more!
MWA-HA-HA-HA-HAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!

- --Viashino, Feelin' Maniacal--
"Ewwwwwwww!!"

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

Date: Sun, 03 Aug 1997 22:45:50 -0400
From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Weapon: Part VII/?

Title:  The Weapon
Rating:  PG-13 here.  In the words of Carl "Oldie" Olsen, "Violence!
Glorious violence!"  Some language to.
Disclaimer:  Buffy, Willow, Xander, and Angel are the property of Joss
Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and 20th Century Fox.  The rest is mine.  Touch it
and I'll break yo' fingers.
*****

"NO!!!" screamed Angel, as Buffy vanished.
"Oh shit," said Xander, as Angel raged, "that was Hound!"
"A what?" Willow asked, as her anger began to bubble.
"The Hounds are Karakis' hunters and guard beasts!  If we ran into one of
them, he knows we're here."
"Oh gre-" Willow was cut off by a deep growl.  Willow and Xander turned to
see Angel, and watched as his features twisted, changing into the horrible
visage of a vampire.  Throwing his head back, Angel unleashed a deafening
primal roar, sharing his rage with the universe.  Then, with uncanny speed
and grace, he leapt, and plunged beneath the sands.
"What's he doing?!" shrieked Willow.
"What he always does," replied Xander, "he's following Buffy."
"Shouldn't we do the same?"
"I plan on it.  Stand back!"

Willow stepped away as Xander pointed the sphere at the ground.  He paused,
inhaling deeply.

"GIVE US PASSAGE TO THE SLAYER!" he shouted.  Acknowledging its other's
command, the sphere began to glow.  The glow spread over Xander, until his
entire body was encased in a green luminescence.  Then, suddenly,
violently, the glow shot through the sphere and was released as a massive
energy pulse, blasting into the sand.  Xander collapsed to his knees,
nearly tumbling into the searing hole he had created.
"Xander!" shouted Willow, rushing to his side, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah..." he gasped, "just... took... a lot... outta me."
"What did you..."
"The sphere blasted us a passage." said Xander, as he caught his breath,
"C'mon, lets go."

*****

As Xander and Willow exited the tunnel, they came face to face with a scene
out of a nightmare.

A massive white creature, one which seemed to be nothing more than a mass
of tentacles and a huge, gaping, maw, was trying to eat Buffy.  The Slayer
was surviving only by keeping the creature's jaw open with her legs.  Angel
attacked the creature again and again with his sword, again and again it
lashed out a tentacle, slamming him into the walls or floor of the cave.
The vampire rose after each attack, ignoring his injuries.  The creature
slammed Angel into the wall once more.  He rose, snapped his shoulder back
into place with a sickeningly wet crack, and attacked once more.

"SAVE HER!" shouted Xander, as he charged, holding the sphere in front of
him.  Instantly, a mass of silver tendrils leapt from the sphere, attacking
the creature.  The liquid metal sliced and hacked away, fighting off the
creature's many tentacles.  Finally, it fought its way through to the
tentacle holding the Slayer.  Changing from a mass of tendrils to two large
razor-sharp extensions, the sphere quickly severed the limb, and Buffy
leapt away.

"Blades." said Xander, as the creature howled in pain.  The sphere returned
to its natural shape, then split, coating each of Xander's arms with its
liquid metal essence.  The liquid quickly hardened and shaped, forming
wickedly sharp blades over his appendages.  He watched as a new tentacle
sprung to life in the place of the lost one.  Silently, grimly, Xander
attacked.

"You OK?" growled Angel, as he helped Buffy off the floor.
"Fine," she panted, "you?"
"Fine."
"Good.  Then we'd better help Xander."
Angel silently nodded his agreement, and they attacked.

The three hacked and sliced away at the creature, but each severed limb was
replaced by another.  Soon blood, monster, vampire, and human, covered all
four combatants.  They battled on, hopeful they would find some weakness,
some path to victory.

During the battle, Willow stayed back, watching, looking for some weak
spot, something they could use against that... that *thing*.  Then she saw.
 It only lasted a moment but it was enough.  The creature blinked.  It
blinked, its single tough, leathery eyelid unveiling a mass of slimy
eyeballs.  Acting on instinct alone, she lined up her shot, and fired.  The
creature screamed in agony as hundreds of sensitive eyeballs burst,
spraying blood and other fluids everywhere.  Willow walked forward, pumped
the shotgun, and fired again.  And again.  And again and again and again.
The creature lowered its guard, writhing in agony as more and more eyeballs
exploded.  Taking advantage of the opening, Buffy, Xander, and Angel
charged, and began slicing hunks of the thing's corpulent spheroid body
away.  Drawing strength from the sphere, Xander thrust forward, driving his
blades deep into the creature's brain, forcing his arms into the creature
all the way up to his shoulders.  Green lightning shot through Xander's
body as the Hound's lifeforce was drained through the sphere.  Several
violent seconds later, the creature released its death howl, and crumbled
to dust.

*****

"Wow," said Buffy, as she wiped some of the gore off her body, "good
shootin' Will!"
Willow simply nodded, a grim expression fixed on her visage.
"So," asked Angel, "what do we do now?"
"We should rest here for a while," replied Xander, "heal.  Then, once we're
ready, we follow these caves and tunnels.  With the sphere guiding us, they
should take us right to Karakis Central."
"Oh good," said Buffy tiredly, as she slumped against the cave wall, "out
of the frying pan--and straight into hell."

*****

The end is near
My friends my friends,
But the tale is not yet through.
The battle nears,
My friends my friends,
We shall see what the slay squad can do!

MWA-HAHA-HAHAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!

- --Viashino the Maniacally Evil--

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

Date: Mon, 04 Aug 1997 02:45:50 -0400
From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Weapon: Part VII/?

Title:  The Weapon
Rating:  PG-13 here.  In the words of Carl "Oldie" Olsen, "Violence!
Glorious violence!"  Some language to.
Disclaimer:  Buffy, Willow, Xander, and Angel are the property of Joss
Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and 20th Century Fox.  The rest is mine.  Touch it
and I'll break yo' fingers.
*****

"NO!!!" screamed Angel, as Buffy vanished.
"Oh shit," said Xander, as Angel raged, "that was Hound!"
"A what?" Willow asked, as her anger began to bubble.
"The Hounds are Karakis' hunters and guard beasts!  If we ran into one of
them, he knows we're here."
"Oh gre-" Willow was cut off by a deep growl.  Willow and Xander turned to
see Angel, and watched as his features twisted, changing into the horrible
visage of a vampire.  Throwing his head back, Angel unleashed a deafening
primal roar, sharing his rage with the universe.  Then, with uncanny speed
and grace, he leapt, and plunged beneath the sands.
"What's he doing?!" shrieked Willow.
"What he always does," replied Xander, "he's following Buffy."
"Shouldn't we do the same?"
"I plan on it.  Stand back!"

Willow stepped away as Xander pointed the sphere at the ground.  He paused,
inhaling deeply.

"GIVE US PASSAGE TO THE SLAYER!" he shouted.  Acknowledging its other's
command, the sphere began to glow.  The glow spread over Xander, until his
entire body was encased in a green luminescence.  Then, suddenly,
violently, the glow shot through the sphere and was released as a massive
energy pulse, blasting into the sand.  Xander collapsed to his knees,
nearly tumbling into the searing hole he had created.
"Xander!" shouted Willow, rushing to his side, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah..." he gasped, "just... took... a lot... outta me."
"What did you..."
"The sphere blasted us a passage." said Xander, as he caught his breath,
"C'mon, lets go."

*****

As Xander and Willow exited the tunnel, they came face to face with a scene
out of a nightmare.

A massive white creature, one which seemed to be nothing more than a mass
of tentacles and a huge, gaping, maw, was trying to eat Buffy.  The Slayer
was surviving only by keeping the creature's jaw open with her legs.  Angel
attacked the creature again and again with his sword, again and again it
lashed out a tentacle, slamming him into the walls or floor of the cave.
The vampire rose after each attack, ignoring his injuries.  The creature
slammed Angel into the wall once more.  He rose, snapped his shoulder back
into place with a sickeningly wet crack, and attacked once more.

"SAVE HER!" shouted Xander, as he charged, holding the sphere in front of
him.  Instantly, a mass of silver tendrils leapt from the sphere, attacking
the creature.  The liquid metal sliced and hacked away, fighting off the
creature's many tentacles.  Finally, it fought its way through to the
tentacle holding the Slayer.  Changing from a mass of tendrils to two large
razor-sharp extensions, the sphere quickly severed the limb, and Buffy
leapt away.

"Blades." said Xander, as the creature howled in pain.  The sphere returned
to its natural shape, then split, coating each of Xander's arms with its
liquid metal essence.  The liquid quickly hardened and shaped, forming
wickedly sharp blades over his appendages.  He watched as a new tentacle
sprung to life in the place of the lost one.  Silently, grimly, Xander
attacked.

"You OK?" growled Angel, as he helped Buffy off the floor.
"Fine," she panted, "you?"
"Fine."
"Good.  Then we'd better help Xander."
Angel silently nodded his agreement, and they attacked.

The three hacked and sliced away at the creature, but each severed limb was
replaced by another.  Soon blood, monster, vampire, and human, covered all
four combatants.  They battled on, hopeful they would find some weakness,
some path to victory.

During the battle, Willow stayed back, watching, looking for some weak
spot, something they could use against that... that *thing*.  Then she saw.
 It only lasted a moment but it was enough.  The creature blinked.  It
blinked, its single tough, leathery eyelid unveiling a mass of slimy
eyeballs.  Acting on instinct alone, she lined up her shot, and fired.  The
creature screamed in agony as hundreds of sensitive eyeballs burst,
spraying blood and other fluids everywhere.  Willow walked forward, pumped
the shotgun, and fired again.  And again.  And again and again and again.
The creature lowered its guard, writhing in agony as more and more eyeballs
exploded.  Taking advantage of the opening, Buffy, Xander, and Angel
charged, and began slicing hunks of the thing's corpulent spheroid body
away.  Drawing strength from the sphere, Xander thrust forward, driving his
blades deep into the creature's brain, forcing his arms into the creature
all the way up to his shoulders.  Green lightning shot through Xander's
body as the Hound's lifeforce was drained through the sphere.  Several
violent seconds later, the creature released its death howl, and crumbled
to dust.

*****

"Wow," said Buffy, as she wiped some of the gore off her body, "good
shootin' Will!"
Willow simply nodded, a grim expression fixed on her visage.
"So," asked Angel, "what do we do now?"
"We should rest here for a while," replied Xander, "heal.  Then, once we're
ready, we follow these caves and tunnels.  With the sphere guiding us, they
should take us right to Karakis Central."
"Oh good," said Buffy tiredly, as she slumped against the cave wall, "out
of the frying pan--and straight into hell."

*****

The end is near
My friends my friends,
But the tale is not yet through.
The battle nears,
My friends my friends,
We shall see what the slay squad can do!

MWA-HAHA-HAHAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!

- --Viashino the Maniacally Evil--

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

Date: Mon, 4 Aug 1997 11:05:46 -0400
From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Mailer problems

Sorry to post this here, but our server went down over the
weekend and lost all of our mail.  If anyone sent me anything,
therefore, since early Friday, could you please resend it?
Also, if another digest has come out during this time, is
there anyway for me to get a copy?

Whining,
Katherine Gilbert

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

Date: Mon, 4 Aug 1997 16:18:14 -0400 (EDT)
From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Secret World of Willow (00/?)

This is my first attempt at a Buffy fanfic, so please be kind. (The
response from the folks on the buffy-beta list gave me the courage
to post it here.) It's a crossover with show about another teenage
girl with a big secret and special powers, "The Secret World of Alex
Mack." If you have never heard of it, you might want to look for
"The Secret World of Alex Mack Unofficial WWW Page" by Zack Bennett
at <http://www.hotcc.com/users/bennettd/alexmack/> (if it's still
there) for an explanation of the series. I hope you like it.

                         *   *   *   *   *

TITLE: The Secret World of Willow Rosenberg
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: PG13
CONTENT WARNING: This story depicts scenes of violence and/or their
    aftermath. If depictions of this nature disturb you, you may
    wish to read something other than this story.
CLASSIFICATION: C - Crossover with "The Secret World of Alex Mack"
SUMMARY: The new girl at Sunnydale has a weird secret all her own -
    one that Willow will soon share.
DISCLAIMER: Buffy, Giles, the Slayerettes and all other characters
    who have appeared in the series "Buffy the Vampire Slayer"
    together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole
    copyright property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Inc., Kuzui
    Enterprises, Sandollar Television, 20th Century Fox Television
    and the Warner Brothers Television Network. Alex Mack, her
    family, Danielle Atron and all other characters who have
    appeared in the series "The Secret World of Alex Mack" together
    with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright
    property of Viacom International, MTV Networks, Nickelodeon
    Television Network, Nickelodeon Productions, Hallmark
    Entertainment, and Lynch Entertainment. No copyright
    infringement was intended in the writing of this fan fiction.
    All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are
    the sole property of the author. I'm too broke to be sued,
    anyway. (But if anybody thinks my literary skill presents that
    much a risk, feel free to *HIRE* me!)

                         *   *   *   *   *

                The Secret World of Willow Rosenberg
                      (a BtVS/SWAM crossover)
            by Dalton S. Spence <[e-mail]>

         "I guess I'm not so ordinary anymore." - Alex Mack

*Prologue*

The security system of Paradise Valley Chemical's new Sunnydale
research facility was state of the art, designed to prevent any
unauthorized personnel from slipping into the laboratories unnoticed
and escaping with company secrets. This included an array of special
electromagnetic and chemical sensors designed to detect the unusual
characteristics of one particular intruder, who had been a thorn in
the company's side for the last few years. But every security system
has its weak spot, and this one was no exception.

About twenty feet north of the main lab complex was a small building
used to store various materials and equipment not immediately needed
for the experiments being conducted next door. Since no records were
kept there it was considered a low-security area, and the usual
precautions of regular outside patrols, video surveillance and
electronic door locks were considered sufficient. In theory, anyone
trying to sneak in would be spotted and challenged.

Nobody thought about the sewers.

                         *   *   *   *   *

The quiet of the deserted building was shattered as a manhole cover
went flying through the air to smash into the main electrical panel,
knocking out all the lights and alarms and automatically locking all
the doors. The guard in the security office immediately called for
backup, silently cursing the fact his partner had just stepped
outside for a smoke. No one would getting in or out through the
doors until the power was restored, so he was on his own against one
or more intruders of unknown nature or intent. Rather than confront
them, he chose to remain where he was until help arrived, a wise
decision that undoubtedly saved his life.

Unseen, two silent figures in tattered filthy clothes quickly
scrambled out of the hole, then turned to help a third female figure
emerge. Her feet had not quite cleared the edge when a beam of light
illuminated her back, and she spasmed as a crossbow bolt from below
ripped through her heart, turning her to dust in her friend's arms.
The two remaining vampires (for that's what they were) quickly
recovered, and split up to hide from their pursuers in the maze of
wooden equipment crates and steel chemical drums.

There was brief pause, then a blond teenage girl holding a crossbow
with a large flashlight attached emerged from below, and carefully
scanned the area for any signs of movement. She was followed by
another girl with long red hair holding a large high pressure water
rifle filled with holy water, and a dark haired young man carrying a
large silver cross and satchel filled with wooden stakes.

"Well, this is fun," murmured Xander as looked at the stacks and
shelves of goods with disgust. "Did I ever tell you how much I
loathed hide and seek as a kid?"

Buffy smiled slightly at her friends. Usually, she handled this sort
of thing by herself, but this time her friends refused to let her go
alone. "You're the ones who wanted to come slaying with me," she
reminded him. "If you wanted fun, you should have gone to the mall."

Willow's response was unusually grim for her. "It stopped being fun
when they decided to attack our families. Now, it's personal." She
had seen a lot of things, and lost a lot of friends, but when they
had put her mother in the hospital, something had snapped. Before,
she had been mostly scared; now, she was just angry. This was a
Willow none of them had ever seen before, and the transformation
scared Xander almost as much as the vampires did.

Remembering how she had felt when *her* mother had been attacked,
Buffy just nodded, then motioned to the others to spread out. Buffy
took the point, with her friends each taking one side of the wide
aisle, making sure they kept each other in sight at all times. Even
so, one of the vampires managed to surprise them, jumping off the
top level of shelves and knocking Buffy down before she could get
off a shot. Moving to finish off the stunned Slayer, he was stopped
in his tracks by an excruciating burning sensation in the middle of
his back. He quickly turned, only to get a face full of holy water
from an enraged Willow. His howl of pain ended abruptly as the
recovering Buffy thrust a stake though his heart.

The first hint Xander had that the remaining vampire had managed to
sneak up behind him during the commotion was his short but painful
flight across the aisle. As Buffy snatched up her fallen crossbow to
dispatch their last enemy, Willow noticed that Xander's impact had
dislodged the topmost of a tall stack of steel barrels, which was
now plummeting towards his head. With a flying tackle that would
have been the envy of anyone on Sunnydale High's football team,
Willow knocked Xander behind a wooden crate just as the barrel
smashed at her feet, drenching her in a strange golden chemical.

As Xander struggled to his feet dazed from the impacts, Buffy rushed
over to her friends. "Willow, are you alright?" she asked anxiously.

Willow, still shaken from her close call, nodded slowly. "I guess
so, depending on what this stuff is," she added.

Xander stumbled over to the remains of the barrel. "It says GC-161,
whatever that means," he said, then moved the wreckage with his foot
to get a better view. His mouth tightened into a grim line. "There's
a bio-hazard symbol." He quickly picked up Willow's dropped water
gun, and ignoring her protests proceeded to wash her down. However,
Willow had already used most of the gun's "ammo," so he only managed
a few squirts before he ran dry.

Just then they heard a small explosion, and the sound of the large
loading dock door on the other side of the building being rolled up.
Not wanting to answer a lot of questions, they scrambled back down
the manhole, leaving behind three piles of ashes, a broken steel
drum, and a wooden stake that fallen from Xander's bag. None of them
noticed the shapeless silvery mass that slid out from behind some
crates to follow them.

                         *   *   *   *   *
                         <end of prologue>

What do think?
- --
          +-------------------------------------------------+
          | Dalton S. Spence, B.Sc. <[e-mail]>|
          | Home Page: http://www.hwcn.org/~ag775/home.html |
          +-------------------------------------------------+

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

Date: Mon,  4 Aug 1997 22:58:27, -0500
From: [e-mail] (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Mad Moon in Scorpio" (1/6)

This has already been posted to the Sunnydale Slayers list; and it's going
to be posted on the SunS page.  Buffy, Ms. Calender, the Slayerettes and
most of Sunnydale belong to their creator Joss Whedon, who I am imitating
in the most sincere and profound admiration, without any hope for financial
gain.... although I sure won't turn it down, if Joss feels like paying me!
WB, Sandstone, 20th Century Fox and Mutant Enemy have some rights in here somewhere.

Major thank-you-kindly's to my betareaders: Lizbet, Perri and Dianne, who
kept the grammar straight and went "hunh?" when I vagued things up.

Comments welcomed with enthusiasm!      -       CLK

"Mad Moon in Scorpio"
by Christina Kamnikar
copyright 1997

        *       >       1       ~       {}      @

        I knew the situation had gotten seriously weird when the first
thing to happen that morning was my computer crashing during my on-line
Tarot reading.

        Don't get me wrong. Usually I just check the position of the moon
when I get up, to find out if it's a day to stay in bed or play the
lottery.  It's saved me a lot of headaches to know what kind of course the
planets are following on any given day.  But since I'm never awake until
after the first cup of Jamaica Blue Mountain, I figure why force my brain
to process information it's not ready for? Anything more complex, I almost
always delay until after lunch.  Early morning psychic readings are for
people who like the sound of morning DJ's and dawn traffic.

        Not that many citizens of Sunnydale are checking their horoscopes
with a serious idea of what they mean.  There are possibly six practicing
Pagans in our little berg, and none of us are of the same Craft, and some
of the others ignore horoscopic influences completely.  Sunnydale may be in
California, but it's a lot closer to L.A. than San Francisco,
metaphysically speaking.  At least, I used to think so. Now I think it
might be a lot closer to somewhere.... hotter.

        Anyway.  Tarot cards, Runes, scrying---higher divination requires
concentration and preparation, and at least a general idea of what you need
to know.  The only reason I did the reading as soon as I woke up that
morning was because of the nightmare I'd had; one which I couldn't even
remember once I was fully awake. Just the general feeling of impending
doom, disaster, ruin.... And the Net had been acting so *weird* all week,
that I was hoping an impromptu Q&A would shed some light on the dark vibes
I was getting.  Nothing like tapping into the mind of the God(ess) to get
some answers.

        So on the morning when my fears first crystallized I yawned,
stumbled over to my PC, then called up the Astarte site on the Web.  I
selected the Queen of Swords for myself--- because let's face it, I may
want to be the Empress, or the Priestess, but who has the time?---and asked
the reader, "What does the day hold?" //Much too vague, Nikki,// I realized
after I hit the ENTER button. There was no way the cards could give me a
useful answer with that kind of query. The images on the screen flipped,
coalesced, and then resolved into three cards. I gulped.

        The Tower. The Chariot. Death. Or, in simpler terms: destruction.
Opposing forces fighting it out. Major changes of life-altering proportions.

        "Ohhhh, boy." Now, _that's_ a wake-up call. //Maybe I shouldn't
have asked...//

        Which was exactly when Henry spluttered, fizzed, then popped, and
the monitor went *boom* in a wash of white snow.  I stared at it for a full
minute, knowing it couldn't be a coincidence, but without the faintest idea
what I was supposed to do about it. Other than reboot Henry and say a
prayer that the portents were mocking me.

        Maybe they were. I certainly didn't expect anything like what
started happening in Sunnydale after that....

*

Christina       [e-mail]     Merc : PWFC : DueSer : SunS
        Comments wanted!   }|{

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

Date: Mon,  4 Aug 1997 23:00:18, -0500
From: [e-mail] (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Mad Moon in Scorpio" (2/6)

"Mad Moon in Scorpio" (2/6)
by Christina Kamnikar
copyright 1997

        *       <       o       @       ^       2

        Sunnydale High, Home of the Razorbacks, bastion of education,
signer of my paychecks. Not exactly CalTech, but most of the time that's a
good thing. As I drove up to the teacher's parking lot I gave thanks that
my position as resident computer specialist was still low-key enough to
allow me time to contemplate recent nasty developments on the Net, and the
implications they contained.

        Dave, Fritz, and Willow---my advanced class students---were
probably already on-line and typing away, happy hackers all, possibly
creating new ways to use on-line software or, in Fritz's case, become one
*with* the software. Fritz needed a little more distance from the
computers... like, say, a trip to Bermuda.  I had to restrain the urge to
tell him to go outside and play sometimes. It wouldn't have done any good.
Dave, his partner in crime, seemed to have a better handle on how to
balance his inner life and his outer life, but that just might have been
Dave's easier-going personality. Anyone would look laid-back next to Fritz
"Jacked-In" Desmond.

        None of my students were going to be "geeks" if I could help it;
there's no reason why they should be. Non-virtual life has value too. Fritz
and Dave had a ways to go before they passed that part of my class, even
though both of them were taking college computer design courses during the
afternoon sessions.

        Willow Rosenberg, on the other hand, was progressing nicely,
although I couldn't really take credit for that.

        "No, wait, I'm good at these," I heard as I approached the Lab.
"Does it involve a midget and a block of ice?"

        "We met on-line." My star female hacker---correction, star hacker,
period---was logging onto her account with a big smile on her face, her
eyes lit up as she glanced from the monitor to her friend.

        "On line for what?" Her blonde companion asked, then followed her
friend's smile to the computer, and blinked in surprise. "Oh!" The contrast
between Buffy Summers and Willow was more than just that of different
tastes in clothing, and Buffy's vivacious good looks compared to her
friend's more restrained prettiness. Willow Rosenberg was a straight A
student, a shy, quiet girl always on the verge of blushing in embarrassment
or babbling with self-consciousness; and Buffy Summers had a reputation as
a trouble-maker, as a possible gang member (//In Sunnydale?// I'd thought
when I first heard the story), of having gotten kicked out of several
schools and burning down the gym at the last place.

        I suspected that like Willow, Buffy's image was only half-true. I'd
seen Willow stick up for her friends despite her shyness, and from what I
knew of her, Buffy was a loyal pal to Willow, and had never shown signs of
being anything like the rumors painted her.

        "Morning, kids.  Buffy, are you supposed to be somewhere?" I asked,
settling in behind my desk as I began leafing through printouts.

        "No, I have a free."

        "Cool. But this is lab time, so let's make it a nice short visit,
okay?" As long as she wasn't getting in the others' way, I wasn't about to
chase her out. She'd been good for Willow's self-image, from what I could
see. And maybe Miss Rosenberg had had a good influence on her, too.

        "Sure."  She sat down next to Willow as the other girl squealed
with delight.

        "It's him!" The slim redhead was reading email, practically
vibrating with excitement, and I grinned behind my paperwork. "He's so _sweet_!"

        "He's a sweetie," Buffy agreed uncertainly.

        "What should I write back?"  Willow's online romance was only about
a week old, and she was still in the first throes of excitement. I thought
it was kind of cute, and a good ego-booster for her, even though it
probably wouldn't come to anything in the real world. Unless.... I glanced
at Dave, who _seemed_ oblivious to the exchange between Willow and Buffy.
But it was hard to be sure, since he was hunched over his monitor so
closely. //C'mon, Dave. If it's you, you're going to have to say something *sometime*....//

        "Willow, I think that it's really great that you have this cool
pen-pal and all," Buffy's careful words didn't disguise her doubtful tone,
"but don't you think you're kinda rushing into this? You know what I mean?"

        "I'm thinking of you too!" Willow exclaimed, still concentrating on
her email correspondent. Then her shoulders slumped. "No. That's incredibly
stupid!"

        "Will. Down, girl!" Buffy took a deep breath, and continued on in a
firm voice. "Let's focus here. What do you actually know about this guy?"

        Willow turned a disappointed face to Buffy, drawing away a little.
I frowned, only half-paying attention to the rest of their conversation.
"Oh, see... I knew you'd react like this."

        "Like what?"

        //Like the average person unfamiliar with email,// I mentally
supplied. The odds of Willow actually getting to meet her email pal were
fairly good, from what I could see; but then, the odds that she'd already
met him, and he was too scared to come forward, were pretty high too.
Either way, it wasn't the risk that Buffy probably thought it. I snorted,
thinking of recent HARD COPY reports of on-line criminals and obsessive
romances, and underscored an error on one of my students' assignments with
extra force. //Trust the media to blow up one or two small incidents into
Internet stalking... Goddess, why can't they emphasize the positive? It's
that kind of journalism that has people like Rupert Giles so paranoid.//

        Our resident librarian was a perfect example of the type of person
who would never make use of Net resources except on pain of death.  Or
possibly worse. I'd gotten the impression during the book-scanning project
the previous week that Mr. Giles would have happily withstood a firing
squad, if it would have meant keeping *his* library free of *my* technical
interference.  Quiet, aloof, contained, conservative, distrustful of
everything he didn't want to understand... it was really hard to argue with
someone who refused to talk to you.

        I'd tried to get our new Oxford-educated academic to actually
_look_ at the computer scanning system, but he'd barely listened to me when
I'd explained it, preferring to let me and the students do the work that he
obviously considered a waste of time.  Frustrating. There was so much more
he could do with the new system, but he'd probably just let it sit there
and go to waste....

        I snagged my wandering thoughts away from this week's pet peeve,
and refigured the numbers on Dave and Fritz's log-in time that week as
Buffy and Willow were wrapping up their conversation.

        "Well, no! He doesn't talk like someone who would have a hairy
back." //What? How did you two get onto hairy backs as a topic of
interest...?// "Anyways, that stuff doesn't matter when you really care
about someone. I mean, maybe I'm not his ideal, either," Willow concluded
softly. I hid a sympathetic smile, as Buffy quickly cut into her friend's
temporary attack of insecurity with warm reassurance.

        "Hey! I'm just trying to make sure he's good enough for you. That's
all." Buffy's supportive grin lent weight to her words, and Willow grinned
shyly and relaxed again. I smiled to myself, then finished totalling up the
computer hours for Dave and Fritz and frowned, tapping the large number at
the bottom of the page.

        "Hey Fritz," I tried to gently get the attention of the computer
sciences most devoted acolyte, despite the recurring urge to shake him out
of his complacency. Fritz barely glanced up at me as I walked over to his
monitor. "I'm looking at the logs here, and you and Dave are clocking a
fairly scary amount of computer time."

        "New project." Monosyllables and short sentences only for Mr.
Desmond. Except when he was telling someone off.

        "Ooooo. Will I be excited?" I teased, hoping for details.

        "You'll die," Fritz responded, then returned to his project with
complacent satisfaction.  Someday, someone was going to jolt Fritz out of
his smugness. I only wished I was going to be there to see it. Nodding
carefully, I went back to my desk and paper grading, waving good-bye to
Buffy as she bounced out of the room. Willow was back to mooning over her
email, sighing happily as she composed another note.

        At least one of my students was approaching reality with a wish for
something more than unlimited Internet access. I shot a quick glance over
at Dave, and smiled to myself. //Okay. Maybe two of them.//

        >       <       >       <       >        <      >

        "Ms. Calender, I'm freaking! You gotta help me," Trent Robey
demanded, plunking his laptop down on my desk during my lunch hour. "My
history paper is due in like, half an hour, and someone messed with it."

        I swallowed the bite of sandwich in my mouth, put down the rest,
and said, "Yes, by all means, come on in and request assistance, Trent."

        "I'm sorry, but this is an emergency!" The junior was practically
tearing his hair out, and he pointed at his Macintosh accusingly, his face
contorted in panic. He'd taken a few of my computer classes the year
before, and while no wizard had seemed to have a fairly good grasp of the
basics. Whatever had been done would have to be fairly sophisticated to
force him to ask a teacher for help. I nodded carefully to keep from
upsetting him further, then found myself staring at the screen.

        "'Nazi Germany as an Example of a Well-Ordered Society?'" I asked,
glancing askance at the disgruntled student.

        "This is *not* my paper! I wrote on why the Third Reich was
inherently unstable! It's my midterm report, it's worth a third of my
grade, you have to help me prove I didn't write this---"

        "Calm down, okay? Let me just do a quick search---" I brought up
the file index and paged down through the entries by date, finding what I
suspected would be there. "See? Here it is. Somehow, it was converted into
a temp file, and this paper replaced it at the same time. Luckily, whoever
did this didn't bother to erase the original."

        "It's still there?" Trent collapsed against my desk in relief. "Oh,
man, thanks Ms. Calender. You've really saved my neck."

        "Do you know who would want to do this to you? Or how? Did you
download any information off the Net recently, and leave your account
open?" I concealed my growing sense of dis-ease from Trent, not wanting to
let him know how badly this had disturbed me. Someone had a really sick
sense of humor --- a familiar sick sense of humor.

        "No! I mean, I downloaded some stuff from the Holocaust Archives
yesterday.... but that was it." He sighed, then grinned and took the laptop
back. "I don't care how they did it, as long as it's fixed. Thanks again."

        "Be more careful on those downloads next time," I cautioned. "Use
the virus protection software. And change your passwords!" I called after
him as he walked down the hall.

        "Sure thing!"

        I slumped back into my chair, thinking furiously. For the second
time that day, something within the high school had tampered with the
on-line systems. I'd been called into Principal Snyder's office in between
third and fourth periods in order to clean up his voice mail. It seemed
that not only had someone changed the user password, making it impossible
for Mr. Snyder to retrieve his mail, but that the outgoing greeting had
been altered to an obscene proposition "for all you hot PTA mamas out
there." The voice had sounded a lot like our new principal's, but going by
how little humor he found in the situation, I was willing to bet that it
wasn't his idea of an extremely complicated practical joke.

        Chewing thoughtfully on my sandwich, I started making a list.

1)      Online power surges during readings.
2)      Altered research paper.
3)      Tampered Audix messaging.
4)      General online shutdowns for last week.

        I tapped a pencil against the desk, thinking. //Bad juju. I don't
like it. It feels... weird.// The complexity of the pranks and their
bad-natured humor hinted at more than a virus, or one person getting into
nearby systems. There was an active, malicious intelligence behind the
attacks; someone with a nasty interest in Sunnydale High. Of course, the
power surges and shutdowns couldn't be connected to the software pranks.

        Could they?

        //I need a second opinion.// I tapped out a number on the phone,
hoping my best friend and fellow local Pagan would be in.  She wasn't in
the same discipline, but if I was right about what was going on, she might
be able to give me some perspective on the situation.

        "Cameo's Psychic Health Store, for all your spiritual needs,"
chirped into my ear. "Today, we're running a special on protective spells
and cleansing bath salts. What can I help you with?"

        "Hi, it's Nikki, Cami."

        "I know. Want some calming bubble beads?"

        I laughed. "Maybe later. Listen, do you have time tomorrow to give
me a reading after work?" Aside from the ginseng tea and beeswax candles,
Cameo also did a very profitable business in Tarot card reading. Right at
the moment, I didn't trust my own ability to pull up the information I
wanted. Not without it coming back with three jokers on the screen, anyway.

        "Sure. Are you positive you can wait that long?"

        "What do you know that I don't?" I asked in concern.

        "Just that you're surrounded by turmoil and conflict."

        "I work at the high school, Cameo. I'm *always* surrounded by
turmoil and conflict."

        "Not like this." Cameo's usually happy, upbeat voice had scaled
down into a strained version of itself. "I mean it, Nikki. I was going to
call you tonight, if you hadn't called me first---you really ought to come
over here as soon as you can---"

        "Which is tomorrow. I've got a faculty meeting tonight. I'll see
you right after school tomorrow, though. Okay?"

        A huge dramatic sigh. "Okayyyyy. I guess it can wait. The signs are
urgent but not catastrophic."

        "Good."

        "Yet."

        I rolled my eyes. "Thank you, Cameo, for your comfort in my time of
trouble. I'll see you soon." I hung up the phone and stared at it moodily,
then glanced around the room at the computer screens and shivered.

        For a second, I'd gotten the weird sensation that someone was...
watching me.

*
 Christina      [e-mail]     Merc : PWFC : DueSer : SunS
        }|{

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

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