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buffyfic Digest        Sunday, August 24 1997        Volume 01 : Number 016



In this issue:

    BUFFYFIC: Secret World of Willow (02/?) by D.Spence
    BUFFYFIC: MiB: Hellmouth (02/?) by D.Spence
    BUFFYFIC: Reflections: W.I.F. (02/?) by D.Spence
    BUFFYFIC: Gone 3:  The God of Nine Walls 1/? by JJ

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

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

Date: Sun, 24 Aug 1997 11:35:30 -0400 (EDT)
From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Secret World of Willow (02/?) by D.Spence

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

*Part 2*

"Careful," Alex told a nervous Willow who was guiding a small rubber
ball through a makeshift obstacle course of suspended coat hangers.
They were on their lunch break, and while the library was still
officially closed for repairs, Mr. Giles had let them use it for
practice as long as they kept away from the construction area.
"Don't over control. It will go where you want it to as long as you
visualize clearly."

As the little red ball floated through the third hanger Xander
entered the library and stopped, both amazed and amused by his
friend's new ability. "Way to go, Willow!" he exclaimed, and was
promptly rewarded by the ball impacting on his forehead as Willow,
who had been visualizing it on the end of a rod of force, turned to
greet him.

Stifling the urge to giggle at Xander's stunned expression, Alex
told them, "Don't worry about it. When I was just starting out, Ray
used to keep a catcher's mitt handy whenever he walked in a room
where Annie was testing my powers." Concentrating for a second, she
floated the ball off the the floor, and into Willow's outstretched
hand. "Try again, and this time, instead of considering the power a
physical extension of yourself, think of programming the ball to go
to a certain destination along a certain path, like controlling a
model airplane."

"Or routing a file through the internet!" Willow exclaimed, as she
translated the concept into familiar terms. Shutting everything else
out of her mind, she concentrated on the desired flight path, and
was as surprised as anyone else when the ball darted out of her
hand, zipped through the obstacle course, and after a couple of
orbits around the heads of Alex and Xander sailed over to Giles'
office and landed with a satisfying *clink* in an empty teacup left
on his desk. After a moment of stunned silence, her two spectators
rewarded her performance with enthusiastic applause, causing Willow
to briefly *glow* with embarrassment.

"Very impressive," commented Alex, pleased with the progress her
student had shown so far. "It took a week for me to learn that much
control, and you mastered it in a day."

"That's my Willow," exclaimed Xander proudly, "always the genius."
This praise made Willow glow even brighter, causing Xander to cast a
worried glance at her instructor. "Alex, should she be glowing like
that?"

"Relax, it's just a blush response. Anything that made her blush
before (embarrassment, excitement or physical exertion) will make
her glow now."

"Anything?" asked Xander with a gleam in his eye.

"Anything, which means no more teasing her in public," said Alex
with mock severity. Casting a meaningful glance at the library door,
she added, "Or in private, for that matter, unless you can be
*absolutely* sure no one will walk in. It's a pain, I know. You
wouldn't believe the crimp it's put in my social life."

"At least that's one problem I won't have," sighed Willow. "The last
guy who was interested in me turned out to be a demon that had been
scanned into the internet."

"You're kidding, right?" Seeing from Willows morose expression that
she wasn't, Alex blurted out, "But I thought you and Xander ..."

"Whoa, back up there!" Xander said quickly. "Will and I have known
each other forever. We're best buds, sure, like brother and sister,
but that's all!" Since his back was to Willow at that moment, he
missed Willow's glowing response to his vehement denial, and the
brief look of anguish in her eyes.

Alex, however, didn't miss any of it. "Okay, if you say so," she
responded skeptically, thinking, //It must be a Hellmouth thing,
some curse that prevents guys from really seeing her.// Just then,
Buffy entered the library with Mr. Giles, and Alex watched as Xander
turned to Buffy like a puppet on a string. //Nah, I guess it's just
the combination of familiarity and hormones, I guess. Why do guys
have to be so dumb?//

"How's it going, guys?" asked Buffy, seeming disgustingly cheerful
considering the long night they had put in. How these people went
out slaying vampires every night and still managed to do school beat
her. Alex had barely been able to drag herself bed this morning
after the long discussion they had had before Mr. Giles had called a
halt at 3 AM. Fortunately the house that the Macks were renting
until they found more permanent place was just down the street from
the Rosenberg place, so it hadn't taken long for her to get home.

"The TK training is coming along fine," answered Willow, trying to
be humble but justly proud of her accomplishments.

"Excuse me," interrupted a puzzled voice from Mr. Giles' office,
"but why is there a rubber ball in my teacup?"

                         *   *   *   *   *

In the principal's office, Mr. Snyder was having a very bad day.
This morning he had attended a breakfast meeting with the head of
the Sunnydale school board, where had received confidential orders.
Because of his lack of success at stemming the tide of `incidents'
at the school, he was now forced to conduct a series of interviews
for the position of school security officer. Unfortunately, word had
gotten out that at least two staff members had died particularly
horrible deaths, and another had nearly been murdered, so the only
ones applying for the job were the stupid and the desperate.

So far, the only applicant that came close to acceptability was the
man seated in front of him. Personally, Snyder was rather impressed
with him; his military bearing and professional attitude struck a
sympathetic chord in the strict disciplinarian. Still, there were a
couple of items in the resume that concerned him.

"I see that after ten years of working for the same company and
rising to the post of security chief, you left the company a year
ago to become an `independent security consultant'. Why?"

Expecting some weak excuse, he was a bit surprised when the
applicant admitted, "I was dismissed for incompetence." He paused,
then asked, "May I be frank?"

"Please do," replied Snyder, thinking, //This is going to be good!//
He wasn't disappointed.

"The last year I was working for the company, I became involved in
the security for a highly classified project. There was a rather
severe security breech, and I was ordered to commit several criminal
acts in order to contain it. This I found myself unable to do, and
as a result was terminated. Because the company could not admit the
real reason they fired me, they ordered the company psychologist to
declare me mentally unstable. This not only ruined my professional
reputation (which to that point had been spotless), but made sure
that any accusations I made against them would be considered merely
spite or paranoid delusions. For the last year I've tried to uncover
the proof that would clear me, but so far my every effort has been
unsuccessful."

Snyder looked at him shrewdly. "This sudden desire to relocate to
Sunnydale wouldn't have anything to with your previous employer
opening up shop here, would it?"

Again, the man surprised him by his honesty. "That *WAS* a factor, I
admit. At the home office, nearly everyone in town worked for the
company, and those who don't make their living from those who do.
Here, at least, the company isn't *GOD*. But this wasn't the main
reason."

"Oh, and what was?"

"As I was checking Sunnydale out, and read the newspaper reports of
your -- troubles -- I realized that my quest for vindication had
made me forget that there were people out there who really needed my
skills and training. Not to improve the figures on a profit or loss
statement, but just to be safe to lead their normal lives. I want to
get my life back on track, and this seems like the best way."

In the normal course of events, Principal Snyder would have given
this amazing story all the attention it deserved (namely, NONE), but
as you know, NORMAL has very little to do with Sunnydale at the best
of times. In a sincere attempt to get some sort of handle on the
mayhem happening at his school, the beleaguered principal had taken
to watching *far* to much `X-Files', and was quite susceptible to a
story of sinister conspiracy and a lone hero trying to expose it. In
his mind, he was picturing himself as Skinner to the other's Mulder.
(The lack of a Scully didn't bother him at all.) As far as he was
concerned, he had found his man.

He touched a button on his intercom and told his secretary, "Cancel
the rest of the interviews." He stood up and offered his hand to the
man in front of him. "There are a few formalities to complete, and
the board has to approve it, but unless something unexpected comes
up, you can consider yourself hired. Welcome aboard, Mr Carter."

The former head of security for Paradise Valley Chemical also rose
to his feet and with a smile shook the hand of his latest employer.
"Believe me sir, you won't be sorry. And please, call me Vince."

                         *   *   *   *   *

As Danielle Atron looked at the photographs on her desk, she felt
the beginning of what promised to be a monumental headache. The
security report on the incident at the new site had just arrived,
and the conclusions of the chief investigator gave her a distinct
feeling of deja vu. "Kids. All the time, it's *KIDS!*"

"Teenagers to be specific, according to the size of the footprints,
and the distinctive tread pattern. Almost brand new. At least three
separate pairs from the IR scans. From our reconstruction of events,
they entered through the sewer -- we have sealed that access by the
way -- and proceeded to engage in combat with another group, number
and nature unknown. During the fighting, at least one of the
teenagers was thoroughly contaminated. The other group apparently
escaped, and the teenagers followed them." The investigator had
rather different ideas about that, but wasn't about to share them
without more evidence than some piles of ash and a wooden stake.
"Don't worry ma'am, we'll find them. I'll stake my job on it!"

"You just did," she replied coldly. "Don't disappoint me."

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

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

Date: Sun, 24 Aug 1997 11:35:25 -0400 (EDT)
From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: MiB: Hellmouth (02/?) by D.Spence

TITLE: MiB: The Hellmouth Incident
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" and IMMEDIATELY after
    the movie "Men in Black"
RATING: PG13
CONTENT WARNING: This story depicts scenes of violence and/or their
    aftermath. If depictions of this nature disturb you, you may
    wish to read something other than this story.
CLASSIFICATION: C - Crossover with "Men in Black"
SUMMARY: Reports of the possible presence of an unregistered time-
    space anomaly bring Jay and Elle to Sunnydale, California where
    they discover there are things even MiBs find hard to believe.
DISCLAIMER: Buffy, Giles, the Slayerettes and all other characters
    who have appeared in the series "Buffy the Vampire Slayer"
    together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole
    copyright property of Joss Wheadon, Mutant Enemy, Inc., Kuzui
    Enterprises, Sandollar Television, 20th Century Fox Television
    and the Warner Brothers Television Network. Jay, Elle, Zed and
    all other characters who have appeared in the motion picture
    "Men in Black" together with the names, titles and backstory are
    the sole copyright property of Columbia Pictures, Amblin
    Entertainment, MacDonald/Parkes Productions, and Malibu Comics.
    No copyright infringement was intended in the writing of this
    fan fiction. All other characters, the story idea and the story
    itself are the sole property of the author.

                    MiB: The Hellmouth Incident
                  a "BtVS/Men in Black" crossover
            by Dalton S. Spence <[e-mail]>

*Part 2*

Elle was in a bit of quandary. She was still just a rookie with the
Black, and whatever had scared Jay *had* to be pretty terrible.
Ignoring her prone partner for the moment, she turned back to the
victim of the attack.

There was nothing obviously frightening about her at first glance;
the human diguise was that of a middle aged caucasian woman,
approximately 150 cm tall with grey hair tied back in a tight bun, a
mean face (even in repose), and cat's-eye glasses. Elle turned the
"woman's" head to the right, and saw (as she had half expected to)
two puncture marks on the neck. However, what dribbled from the
wound in no way resembled human blood -- it was a bright (almost
fluorescent) orange, and smelled like a strong fruit liqueur.

//Titanian, probably an educational missionary,// Elle thought,
suddenly very glad she'd taken up Zed's offer of first aid training
for the top ten client races. `Giles' had been right, but for the
wrong reason; where he had probably thought the victim's pulse has
high and thready, for a Titanian it was frighteningly slow. If
something wasn't done immediately to wake her up and get her moving,
she would lapse into a metamorphic coma and wake five years later
with an altered sex. The `blood' loss was a trivial issue, since
Titanians needed very little to survive; it was the psychological
shock of the attack that was the greatest danger.

"Will Mrs. Edelson be all right?" asked the blond girl.

"She will, if we can wake her up," said Elle. "Is there any garlic
in that thing?" she asked, pointing at a leather valise sitting on
the ground a few feet away, with end of a wooden stake sticking out.

"Why, yes," answered the man, "but what ..."

Elle got to her feet and stepping around her partner (who was just
beginning to come to) ran to their car, yelling over her shoulder,
"Crush a few cloves and hold them under her nose. They'll act as
smelling salts." Wrenching open the back door, she pulled open a
hidden drawer under the back seat, revealing twelve colour coded
plastic boxes. Ignoring the silver stasis kit (the situation wasn't
that bad yet), she grabbed the bright orange one and ran back to the
others.

Jay and Mrs. Edelson were both sitting up by this time, with Jay
shaking his head and rubbing his eyes, and Mrs. Edelson sneezing and
coughing at the smell of the garlic. Elle opened the Titanian first
aid kit, loaded the automatic pneumatic spray hypo with the general
stimulant, set it to a single dose, and injected their contact right
in the center of her forehead.

Although her training had prepared her for the reaction, even she
was impressed by the result. Mrs. Edelson leaped a good ten feet in
the air, landed on her hands, did a couple of back flips and three
cartwheels, then came to a complete halt and let loose an enormous
belch. Then, after taking a moment to adjust her dress and glasses
(the latter having amazingly remained perched on her nose thoughout
the acrobatics), she calmly walked toward Elle as if nothing unusual
had happened, as prim and as proper as any school teacher who had
ever lived. "Thank you my dear," she said, extending her hand with
an infinitesimal smile, "I believe I really needed that."

"Would someone *PLEASE* tell me what is going on?" pleaded Giles,
who was growing more confused by the minute. Aside from the vampire
which Buffy had quickly dealt with, nothing he had seen tonight made
any sense at all. Which was perfectly understandable, given that the
bulk of his time was spent studying the supernatural.

"Oh, I get it," said Buffy, who with her background in popular
American culture had quickly analysed the situation, "Mrs. Edelson
is an alien, and these two are government agents sent to meet her."

Jay and Elle looked at each, then with a tired sigh they reached
into their pockets and pulled out their shades. Before Jay could put
his on, he felt a familiar hand on his arm. "Tsk, Tsk. You are still
just as impatient as you were in the third grade. Have you not yet
learned to ask questions *before* you act, young man? You may make
me regret recommending you for this job in the first place."

Jay had faced a giant alien cockroach bent on starting intergalactic
war with less trepidation than he had facing the diminutive teacher
who had terrified every third grader in his class, and made his life
a living hell. Then the sense of what she had said struck home.
"*YOU* recommended me for the job? I thought that Kay..."

"Kay was a good man, a brilliant operative, and an excellent judge
of character, but without my recommendation to back him up you
wouldn't even have got in the door. In over thirty years of trying
to introduce the young minds of the this planet to the rudiments of
intelligent thought, you were the first and only human with not only
the imagination to concieve that I might not be from this world, but
the courage to believe it and tell others about it." She paused for
a moment, then added, "Of course, it would been nicer if you had
gotten the planet right."

Although you would never get Jay to admit it, Mrs. Edelson was the
only teacher that he had ever really respected. You might hate her,
you might fear her, but *by God* she taught you how to think. Since
this was the first time he had gotten even the smallest compliment
from her, he was willing to overlook the slight criticism attached
to it. "Hey, at least I got the right solar system, Mrs. E. So,
you're teaching high school these days?" Feeling a slight tremble in
the hand on his arm, he immediately grew concerned. "Are you sure
you're all right?"

"Don't worry about me, young man. Your partner fixed me up just
fine. They just caught me by surprise. If I had known California
would be filled with imaginary monsters, I would have stayed in New
York."

"Excuse me," interrupted Elle, "did you say they? We only saw one."

"Oh my, yes! There were two of them; a large bearded man with long
black hair, and a small boy, about ten I think, with the sweetest
face." The alien teacher grimaced. "At least it *was* sweet until
the little creature bit me. Oddly enough, I got the impression that
*he* was the one in charge."

Elle turned to Buffy, who was beginning to look a little worried.
"You didn't happen to ... *take care* of him before we got here?"
she asked hopefully.

Buffy shook her head. "Uh uh, and believe me," she said savagely,
"if I'd seen the little bastard I would have! He's been the acting
vampire king around here since the Master died, and is a lot more
dangerous than he looks."

Jay looked at Buffy, realizing for the first time this was a lot
more complicated than he had originally thought. Making a decision,
he put his shades back in his pocket and motioned to Elle to do the
same. "I think," he said carefully, "we have a *LOT* to talk about."

                         *   *   *   *   *

Following Giles suggestion, the five of them retired to the library
to continue the discussion. Since there had been no dire prophecies
pending, Willow and Xander had long since gone home to spend the
night trying to catch up on their outstanding homework, and Ms.
Calendar was in the computer lab on the other side of the building
installing the latest antivirus upgrades. After making sure the door
was locked against unwanted intrusions, Giles attempted to explain
the basics of vampires, Slayers, and Hellmouths to the increasingly
incredulous MiBs.

"Excuse me," Jay interrupted at on point, "Let me get this straight.
Every night, Buffy goes out, kills a few vampires or whatever other
monsters happen to lurking in the shadows, then goes home to get
some sleep. And nobody has a clue this is happening? Unbelievable!"

"That's exactly it," Giles explaimed, "it's unbelievable. Most
people don't *want* to believe that monsters are real, that their
safe little world has things so dark and horrifying that they can
drive one to madness. And if they see even a glimpse of the truth,
they do their best to convince themselves that it didn't happen,
that it was an illusion, a deception, a product of mass hysteria.
They will swallow any lie that allows them to believe that the world
is a normal, sane place."

"Jay, you must know this already," chided Mrs. Edelson, "it's what
makes your work possible. All the technical tricks and elaborate
cover-ups in the world wouldn't mean a thing if people really wanted
to believe. Not that on some level they aren't *aware* of the truth;
they have to be, in order to deny it effectively." Seeing the
tabloid that was still resting on Giles desk, she picked it up and
waved it before them. "That is why these things sell. They tell the
truth in a way that is easy to deny; thus the need for information
and deniablity are both satisfied. Don't worry, this period of
denial is something all races go through in their infancy. If your
race manages to survive the next century or so it should be ready
for the next step."

"Which I suppose is something I wouldn't understand even if you
explained it to me," quipped jay, familiar with way conversations
with extees tended to go.

"I always said you were a bright boy," she answered with the first
genuine smile he ever seen on her face.

"All this philosophy is well and good," declared Elle trying to keep
the conversation on track, "but what I'd like to know is how we are
supposed to contain this situation. Is this Anointed One of yours
likely to telling other vampires that there are aliens here in
Sunnydale?"

"I doubt it," said a voice from the shadows, startling all but Buffy
who had been waiting for him to speak. "Knowledge like that is
power, and Colin won't spread it around until he figures out exactly
how to use it to his best advantage. If I were you, I'd tell every
alien in a hundred mile radius to get out or go to ground; his first
step will probably involve kidnapping one to get some advanced alien
technology, either by hypnotism, torture, or making it a vampire."
Out of the shadows stepped an incredibly handsome young man in a
black leather jacket, white tee shirt and jeans.

"Thank you very much for the analysis," said Jay, as he casually
placed his hand near the belt holster holding his `Noisy Cricket'.
"If you don't mind, just who are you, and how do you know this."

"My name is Angel, and I know this because, once upon a time, I
would have done the same thing."

                         *   *   *   *   *

AUTHOR'S NOTE: While the movie didn't say which of Jupiter's moons
Mrs. Edelson came from, the novelization mentioned Titan. BTW, the
first aid kits idea was mine. (10 alien, 1 human, 1 stasis kit)

How many of you guessed who the mystery contact was? Be honest!
(Remember, THEY see EVERYTHING. Fnord.)

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

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

Date: Sun, 24 Aug 1997 11:35:26 -0400 (EDT)
From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Reflections: W.I.F. (02/?) by D.Spence

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 2/?

*Greece, in the "Age of Heros" (cont.)*

"We've got to warn them," muttered Joxer as he digested Ares'
prophecy.

"Who? Oh, you mean our descendants. No problem!" said Gabrielle.
"I'll just tack the prophecy onto the epic I'm making about this
adventure. That should do it."

//Oh dear,// thought Xena, slightly amused by the arrogance of her
friend's proposal, //I think she's been hanging around Joxer and
Autolycus too much.// "That will work only if our descendants know
who they are. We are talking about thousands of years here. Even the
oldest royal families have trouble tracking their lineage more than
a couple of centuries."

"Even if your epic survived, it might do more harm than good!" Joxer
complained. "I doubt Callisto would fall for the same trick twice,
and because it worked before they might be tempted to try it again."

"If only the crystal of Chronos hadn't been smashed," Gabrielle
(pardon the expression) mused, "we could warn them in person. Maybe
even help them." As she watched her friend, she noticed a smile
start to form on her lips. Xena's smile was one that had made many a
seasoned warrior scramble either for his sword or to take cover, but
to Gabrielle it meant only one thing. "You've thought of an idea,
haven't you?"

"You know that history records the theft of the Chronos crystal as
on of the earliest of Autolycus's exploits?" Gabrielle nodded.
"According to Hercules, history was revised to make that so. In a
former reality, he failed in his first attempt, but succeeded in one
just a few months ago. When Hercules tried to retrieve the crystal,
in the struggle they activated it and went back to the time of the
first attempt, accidentally smashing it on arrival. Autolycus then
teamed up with his younger self to steal the crystal in the past,
but since his younger self was a bit of a hot head, eventually he
had to do it himself. He and Hercules returned to the present, and
Hercules smashed the crystal to make sure it wasn't misused."

"But ... but ..." Gabrielle stammered, unsure what question to ask
first.

"I know, the story is full of paradoxes, but when you think about
it, a story involving time travel would have to be. Is the past the
time traveller remembers any less real than the new one caused by
his actions? I only know this; the fates showed me the world as it
would have been had I not become a warrior, and it seemed just as
real as this one."

"A very nice story, I'm sure," said Joxer, puzzled, "but what has it
to do with the price of olives in Corinth? From what you say, the
crystal was destroyed *TWICE*. Either way, it's gone."

"At least in this reality, but maybe not in another. And how can
something like that be destroyed so easily? Surely to manipulate
time as it does, it must exist outside of time." Seeing the other's
confusion, Xena explained, "Autolycus told Hercules that he had kept
the shards in a small leather bag as a momento, but when he'd looked
in the bag the next day, they were gone."

"You mean it still might exist?" asked Joxer hopefully.

"Or will," confirmed Xena.

                         *   *   *   *   *

*The Master's Secret Vault, 1530 h PDT*

One of the first things that Giles had learned about the occult was
that there were no coincidences, only destiny. So when the pedestal
where Callisto had stood started making a grinding noise, and a
ceramic tube rolled out of a slot in the base to stop at his feet,
he felt no hesitation in picking it up and breaking the seal at one
end. Inside was a small parchment scroll, miraculously preserved,
and a large, multifaceted crystal that faintly glowed with its own
light. Carefully, he put the crystal in hid jacket pocket, then
unrolled the scroll and held it up to the light.

"Uh, Giles," Xander questioned nervously, "should you be doing that?
After all, you are the one who said not to touch anything."

"Extraordinary!" muttered Giles, ignoring the others, "This is all
written in a version of Ancient Greek, a language that I shouldn't
understand at all but I somehow do. It tells the story how Callisto
was captured, and predicts the circumstances of her release. Good
Lord!" He looked at his three teenage companions in astonishment.
"According to this prophecy, you are all direct descendants of the
three who imprisoned Callisto in the first place." Seeing that none
of the others seemed terribly surprised, he asked, "Or did you know
this already?"

Willow was the first to speak up. "Xander and I didn't know about
Buffy, at least not until she mentioned her great aunt. You see, my
maternal grandmother was Melinda Pappas, Dr. Covington's friend and
colleague, and Xander's great uncle was Jack Kleinman, who was with
them when they found the Xena scrolls. We discovered the connection
when Xander tried to tell me the story of the event, one I already
knew."

"Small world, isn't it?" Buffy commented. "You know, when Merrick
first showed up and told me I was the Slayer, I wondered if it was
because Auntie Jan's relationship to Gabrielle. This destiny thing
is starting to get out of hand."

"Tell me about it," moaned Xander, "I wonder what evil god *your*
descendant is destined to resurrect in another half century?"

"You mean this happened before?" asked Giles, thoroughly confused.

Xander nodded. "Last time it was Willow's grandmother that nearly
released Ares into the middle of the Second World War."

Giles held up his hand to stop any further explanation. "I don't
think I want to know." He turned back to the scroll in his hands.
"Oh, dear," he said, becoming quite pale, "this is the first time
any prophecy I've read included me."

"Huh?" the teenagers uttered simultaneously.

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out the crystal and looked at it,
fascinated. "This is supposed to be the Crystal of Chronos, which
I'm instructed to use to retrieve your ancestors from the past. The
instructions are quite detailed, and specify exactly what I may and
may not tell them."

"To prevent paradoxes, probably," Xander said. "Hey, I read enough
science fiction to know that, at least. I don't suppose there is any
allowance to use it for personal business?" Seeing the Watcher's
severe expression, he quickly added, "That's what I thought. Oh
well, I'd probably foul it up, anyway. How does it work?"

"There is a detailed description of a certain conversation that I'm
supposed to use to fix the place and point in time. I just hold the
crystal like this, concentrate on the scene, and ..."

                         *   *   *   *   *

*Greece, in the "Age of Heros" (cont.)*

"... there I am. Or rather here, I suppose," finished the startled
Watcher, looking at the equally startled faces around the clearing.

As Joxer struggled to draw his sword and Gabrielle gripped her staff
to assume a fighting stance, Xena seemed relaxed at the stranger's
sudden appearance. "Welcome," she said, surprising everyone present,
"I've been expecting you."

"You *know* this guy?" asked Joxer, watching the oddly dressed
interloper with grave suspicion.

"Not exactly," admitted Xena, "but I believe he's come a *very* long
way to solve the problem we've been discussing."

No one ever said that Rupert Giles was slow on the uptake (except
for Ms. Calendar, but *that* is another story). "You decided you
would need help from the future, so you deliberately memorized the
conversation to provide a reference point for my arrival. Brilliant!
Why did you chose *this* moment, rather than later when you had time
to prepare?"

Xena just looked at him a moment, then asked, "Is there really
anything we could do that would *possibly* prepare us for the world
you come from? Be honest."

Giles looked pensive for a moment, then shrugged. "I suppose not,
but how could you know that?" The dark haired warrior woman just
smiled, but showed no signs of answering his question. "I take it
you're Xena?" She nodded, but still remained silent. "Then you two
must be Gabrielle the bard and Joxer the brave."

The young man seemed quite pleased by this recognition, but the
blond bard (he could see the resemblance to Buffy) was unimpressed.
"You have the advantage of us, I think. Just who are you, anyway?"

"Excuse my bad manners," he replied, a bit embarrassed, "I am Rupert
of the family Giles, a historian of sorts, who has the privilege of
training your descendant to be our world's defender against the
vampires, the demons and the forces of darkness. As you may have
gathered, I come from the time when the prophecy you were just
discussing has come true. We need your help to defeat Callisto. I
followed the instructions you left for me ,,,"

"What instructions? We haven't written any instructions. And how did
you get the Chronos crystal?" Gabrielle was far from certain this
man was on the level, no matter how innocuous he looked.

"You may not have written the instructions yet, but you will. As to
the crystal, I found it with the instructions. I don't know how it
got there." Giles *did* have some rather odd suspicions, but he kept
those to himself. "I'd love to stand here chatting with you, but if
I stay much longer I may have trouble focussing on my point of
return. You see, this trip was sort of an accident. I really hadn't
planned on making this trip right now, and wasn't at all prepared.
The crystal is apparently very sensitive, and it seems just reading
the instructions while holding it was enough. Could you please come
with me now?"

Gabrielle looked at Xena and Joxer and asked, "Do we have a choice?"
already knowing the answer.

Joxer pretended to think. "Well, we could leave it to your world
saving descendent ..." Seeing Xena's impatient glower, he relented.
"All right. <sigh> The things we do for family."

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

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

Date: Sun, 24 Aug 1997 16:00:25 -0400
From: Jesse Jou <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Gone 3:  The God of Nine Walls 1/? by JJ

Beach Blanket Buffy is at a stand still right now.  I'm working some stuff
out in my head.  But in the interim, I've been bugged by this, so I may as
well get it started.  As always, feedback is greatly welcomed and
appreciated.

JJ

Title:  Gone 3:  The God of Nine Walls
Author:  JJ
email address: [e-mail]
Distribution:  With permission of the author
Spoiler Warning:  No spoilers for any real episode
Rating: PG
Warnings:  Nudity
Classification: UTB
Summary:  Inspired by Anya's original Gone... story, I wrote a sequel that
followed Willow and Angel to Europe, where they met the infamous Brother
Luca, who took Willow away to train with the Order of Our Lady of Demonic
Assassinations, while Angel returned to Sunnydale.  I had left enough loose
threads in that story to warrant a third part and this is it.  Both Gone...
and Gone II can be found on the Slayer's Fanfic Archive.  I would recommend
reading the previous stories, but if you are not of a mind to do so, all
you really need to know is that Willow was turned into a quasivampiric
killer by the Anointed One and had to leave Sunnydale after her death was
faked.  Buffy and Xander grieved, finding out their friend was lost to them
forever.
Disclaimer:  I don't own these characters except for the ones who haven't
shown up on the show; Joss Whedon, the WB, and their associated production
companies do.  Our Lady of Demonic Assassinations is the invention of my
evil twin sister, Lisa Rose.  I'm also not making a red cent of any of
this, so there's no point in suing me.

Part 1
Professor Harris finished his lecture on the role of bull worship at Catal
Huyuk to healthy applause from the full lecture hall.  His "Mythological
Perspectives in 20th Century Archaelogy" course was considered one of the
best classes on campus not only for the interesting topic but also for the
charismatic professor who taught it, the youngest member of the faculty
with full-tenure at George Underwood Easterman University in Sunnydale,
California.  He was of average height with a full head of dark hair, an
easy grin, scruffy goatee, and intense eyebrows.  The girls on campus
called him Professor "Handsome," although he was notorious for being a
scrupulous gentleman with the ladies.

"In conclusion," he began, finishing his last oratory before Fall finals,
"I hope this course has inspired some of you to investigate the wealth of
history in the human imagination, taught others of you how to question the
world around you, and helped the rest of you get into the grad school of
your choice."

There was a smattering of laughter.  "But the latter is highly doubtful,"
he dead-panned, which made the class roar.  "My office hours are as always.
Smoke 'em if you got 'em."

As the students filed out of the lecture hall, a few lingered to ask
questions about the day's lecture, to request extensions on final papers,
and to shake hands with the professor and thank him.  When all supplicants
had been satisfied, Professor Harris made his way to his office.

"Alex!" someone shouted behind him.  It was Bob Abercrombie from Cultural
Anthropology.  He was a portly man in his mid-forties, pear-shaped and
balding, but with a warm face and bright eyes.

"Hey!"  Alexander Harris replied, holding out his hand, which Abercrombie
shook vigorously, falling in step with the younger man.  "Great article in
Contemp Ling,"  Alex complimented him.

Bob blushed, "Thanks.  But listen, I was wondering if you had a chance to
look over that grant application?"

"Yeah,"  Alex said, opening his leather satchel and digging out a heft of
paper bound by a rubberband.  "It looks good, but you're going to need to
back the data up more.  I've got a couple of references that might help."

They had reached Alex's office.  The screensaver had frozen and the window
"You have new mail." had popped up on his computer screen.  Alex dug out a
folder from the pile on his desk and flipped through it quickly.  With a
grin, he handed it to Bob who flipped through it, impressed with the
scholarship.  "Great!"  he enthused, "This is exactly what I needed."

"Glad to be of help."

Bob's face grew serious for a second.  "Listen, Al.  My wife--her sister's
in town.  Really attractive.  If you like..."

It was Alex's turn to blush as he smiled broadly, "Er, thanks, Bob, but I'm
really not into blind dates."

Bob backed off, throwing his hands up with a laugh.  "Okay!  It was
Alicia's idea.  It's just that picture looks a little lonely and dated," he
said, pointedly indicating the photograph on the desk of Alex carrying a
pretty girl with long red hair piggyback.  Alex picked it up.  How long ago
had this been taken?  The summer before sophmore year.  He remembered that
Willow used to keep a copy of it next to her computer.

"What's that about never forgetting your first love?"  he responded ruefully.

Bob nodded sympathetically.  "She must have been something very special."

Alex smiled as Bob excused himself, "Hey,  Alicia and I want you over for
the dinner soon, okay?"

"Sure," Alex agreed as Bob closed the door behind him.  He sat down in his
swiveling chair and rolled over to his computer, killing the screensaver.
Among the new email were a note from cchase in Manhattan and from argyles
from Bath, England.  He clicked the second message.

"Happy Christmas!" it read. "Sorry to hear you won't be able to get away
for the break!  Nikki and Samantha miss their Uncle Xander.  Nikki lost
another tooth yesterday;  apparently she's set her mind to turning the
tooth fairy into a cottage industry.  Samantha progresses well with
gymnastics and brought home a young man today.  Remembering the holy terror
you were, we are considering the convent.  ;-)

We're sending you a care package soon.  Be well.  Love,  Mr. and Mrs.
Giles-Calendar."
- ----
Alex drove home with an old and morose Tracey Chapman CD playing.  Uncle
Xander, he thought, remembering Giles' email.  Only Giles still called him
Xander; Cordelia had long ago accepted his wish to be called Alex or
Alexander, or even Al.  He stopped being Xander when he got his Master's
degree and started working towards his Ph.D.  Xander wasn't a name that
inspired much confidence in one's academic abilities, he had argued at the
time.  No, said a nagging voice in the back of his brain, you stopped being
Xander long before that.  He pushed the thought away, turning up the
music's volume.

The sky, which had been a sad grey the entire day, finally broke and heavy
drops of rain began to pound against his windshield.  "Great," he thought,
turning on his wipers and headlights.  The rain had not relented by the
time he reached home, a two bedroom, one story house, sided with long
planks of wood painted yellow.  The front porch light was on a timer and
was lit even now as he pulled into the driveway and turned off the
ignition.  He quickly gathered his satchel and papers and grabbed the
umbrella from the backseat.  Opening the door and holding his belongings
close to him, he opened the umbrella and got out into the rain, but the
minute he slammed the cardoor and turned to dash for the front door, he
stopped.  There was someone standing on the raised porch, under the awning,
a figure  wearing a long overcoat and shoulder-length hair.  The sound of
the slamming door had startled the visitor and slowly she turned around,
her face brightening as she saw the man standing by the car in the rain.

He squinted to make the woman out.  No, Xander thought.  It wasn't a woman.
It was a ghost.  A ghost named Willow Rosenberg.
- ----
From the front porch, Willow watched him standing agog in the rain.  His
leather satchel and papers fell away from him.  The umbrella slipped from
his fingers.  He shifted hesistantly, uncertainly looking at her.  She
raised a hand in a tentative greeting.  He walked slowly toward her, as the
rain drenched his clothes.  As he got closer, his steps became larger and
quicker until finally he was bounding up the front steps to her.  In a
second he was crushing her tightly in his arms, lifting her into the air.

"You're wet!" she squealed, feeling his strength.

"I don't care!" he said, his voice muffled against her shoulder

"You're holding me too tightly!"  she protested, laughing joyfully.

"I don't care!" he repeated, more vigorously than the first time.  He set
her down and looked at her.  He lifted a strand of her hair, "You cut your
hair!"

Willow looked at him.  He was a little bulkier than he had been when he was
younger, his shoulders broader, his hands larger and calloused.  The goatee
made him look older.  His face was a little worn, the skin not as elastic
as it once was, but the lines on his forehead and the beginning crow's feet
were the most beautiful wrinkles she had ever seen.  Her hands cupped his
face lovingly.  "Look at you!  Look at you!" she whispered.  He was
laughing stupidly, on the verge of sobbing, his eyes, bright with tears.

"Breathe," she reminded him.

"Breathe,"  he repeated, slowly inhaling.  Tears of joy rolled freely down
his face.  She wiped them away.

"Your things," she said, indicating the pile of soaked objects by the car.

"Oh, yeah," he said, absentmindedly, reluctant to let her go.  She unwound
his arms from her.  He sniffled and wiped his eyes.  "Don't go anywhere,"
he demanded.

"I'm not," she assured him.

"Promise," he insisted.

"I promise."

"Promise?"  he asked.

"Yes," she said, in exasperation.  "Go get your things!"  He released her
hands and keeping his eyes on her, he quickly ran back out into the rain
and gathered his scattered belongings.  He came back up to her and fumbled
out his keys.  He saw a small piece of luggage at her feet.  He reached
down and grabbed it as he unlocked the door.

"Come in, come in," he welcomed her, pushing the door open with his back.
- ----
end Part 1

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

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