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buffyfic Digest       Saturday, August 30 1997       Volume 01 : Number 019



In this issue:

    BUFFYFIC: Sealed with a Kiss  2b/11
    BUFFYFIC: Sealed with a Kiss  3/11
    BUFFYFIC: Sealed with a Kiss 1/11
    BUFFYFIC: Sealed with a Kiss  2/11

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

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

Date: Thu, 28 Aug 1997 20:39:30 -0400
From: Anya <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Sealed with a Kiss  2b/11

Sealed with a Kiss   2B/11
by Anya
[e-mail]

"Yes, yes. I'm well aware that she's having episodes at night. We've
established that based on the testimony of her parents. What I'm
wondering is whether this is a case of nightmares...or night terrors."

Buffy shook her head slightly, as if jostle some neurons to
differentiate that last bit. "They're the same thing, Giles. "

The Watcher looked at her with a mildly wide-eyed expression.
"Actually, no. They aren't. Not much is known of night terrors,
other that they occur during the first hour or two of sleep. Victim's
of night terrors tend to be violently restless sleepers, they tend to
suffer from loud screaming and thrashing about. Although, the
sleeper tends to be difficult to wake."

Ms. Calendar looked up for the computer screen she'd be absorbed
in since Giles first mentioned night terrors.. "I've got a website here
discussing the concept of nightmares and night terrors. I don't think
Willow matches your profile. People suffering night terrors don't
tend to remember anything beyond an emotional impression."

"You've been discussing her dreams with her then?" Giles shot at
her crossly, knowing full well the woman was making leaps without
facts.

She pinned him with the look normally reserved for delinquent
students. "Has she suffered from episodes of sleepwalking as a kid?
Or bed wetting? And these night terrors have come on awfully
suddenly, have they not?"

"How would I know if she sleep walks? I'm simply trying to find a
natural cause for her sleep deprivation as opposed to an unnatural."

"Um. Guys?" Xander interrupted brewing conflict. "We're interested
in Willow here, aren't we? We want to make Willow all better..and
the end conclusion of this fascinating dissertation on how people
sleep is...?"

Ms. Calendar shot a final glare at Giles before turning to the two
young adults in the room. "In all likelihood, Willow isn't suffering
your run-of-the-mill nightmare. And she's experiencing night terrors
either. Nor are most of the other people around here. Nightmares
are being induced."

Xander pursed his lips, looking at Giles for confirmation. The
Watcher shut the book he had been reading, and nodded curtly to
the silent question. "Okay. So that means?"

"It means, we can give her a charm, or something to prevent
Willow from experiencing these nightmares." As she spoke Ms.
Calendar pulled at the necklace around her neck, fingers touching
the small stone there.

Buffy leaned towards the teacher eagerly, arms pressed against
scores of books on the top of the table. "What kind of charm? Do
you have one that will work right away?"

Ms Calendar leaned back into the computer chair and looked
towards the domed glass windows that made up the skylight. "Right
away, I'm not sure. Some may...if we go the herbal route, we can
always burn cedar incense, or..." She sighed softly, eyes focusing on
the panel of glass that replaced the one that Buffy had thrown the
Master through to his demise. Seeing no answer there, or in the
corner of her brain, she stood up slowly, reaching half across the
table to a black bound library book resting inside her opened
briefcase.

Giles smirked, "What? Needing a book? How positively archaic."

"You said it! Unfortunately, because YOU are so lax about
scanning all these texts, they aren't in the computer yet." She shot
back sweetly.

Flipping through the book, that Xander and Buffy could see was
called a Herbal Grimoire, she began to make random comments.
"No.. .no.. .hmmm... .Huckleberry...no, oh..hyacinth.. .not locally
available....yes! Here we go, purslane placed on the bed..that would
prevent nightmares. Although, I doubt that Willow would
appreciate either of those two methods though. Gemstones..."

Setting the black book down, she logged back onto the computer
and then the web. Typing up an address obviously committed to
memory, she began to tab down the page, as the audience anxiously
watched.

"Well?" Buffy asked, wanting to end the silence broken only by the
rapid click of keys on a keyboard..

"Well, Blue Onxy protects against psychic attacks or hexes, but we
haven't established that this is a psychic assault..so it may not
work." The dark haired teacher tilted her head slightly to the right,
eyes still focused on the screen. "Perhaps malachite...no, it would
promote sleep..but..negativity and nightmares are not quite the
same thing.." Her eyes suddenly went wide, head snapping up to
meet Buffy's bright gaze. "Got it! Blue topaz. If we put a good blue
topaz beside her bed, it will prevent or halt a nightmare, and ensure
a good nights sleep!"

"But will it work right away? Or at least tonight?" Xander asked,
wishing he had some way of stressing the urgency of giving Willow
some means to recovery. If a blue topaz would chase her
boogey-men away, then he'd get one into her room at any cost. His
childhood pal was not going to wake up screaming again if he had
any say in it.

Ms. Calendar smiled widely, "It should. It will 'halt' a nightmare,
not just prevent it...so it should work. And even better, I happen to
own a beautiful blue topaz pendent. All we have to do is run it in
cold water for ten or so minutes, and it's purified and ready to roll."

Buffy nodded briskly, "Cool. Let's do it then. Now."

Ms. Calendar made as if to stand up, but Giles raised a hand
restraining her. "Uh..before we do that, we should consider the
other unusual activity of late. Willow is not the only victim of these
nightmares, after all."

"What? You want to give everyone in Sunnydale a blue topaz? Be
my guest, Giles, but Willow's got first dibs on this one!" Buffy said
sharply. She fixed a cold glare on the Watcher.

"That's not what I meant, Buffy." He chided her mildly, favouring
her with a tolerant little smile. "No. I mean, these nightmares are
only one instance of bizarre behavioural patterns isolated in
Sunnydale."

Xander raised an eyebrow, "Uh..come again?"

"He's right." Ms. Calendar interjected. "In the last six days there
have been 30 reported cases of domestic pets going feral on their
owners, for no apparent reason. Dogs don't tend to attack the hand
that feeds them. The worst was at the park. Dog owners walking
their pets found the animals 'ganging together' and attacking en
masse. The Humane Society has the animals quarentined for
testing." She reached over to the computer, carefully shutting it
down for the night, before continuing. "And local schools are
concerned with the number of children assaulting and battering
other children on the playground. The rules about accepted
playground behaviours are well established and enforced, and no
one would expect the gentlest most well behaved students to go
insane like that! What I find most alarming is that ,hospital
admissions have risen 300%. But only in the last six days!"

Giles sank back down into his chair. "And, if you've paid any
attention to the news, there have been seven suicides since last
Wednesday. Normally one a year is devastating in a town this
small."

Buffy frowned, "But why? I mean, when the Hellmouth was nearly
opened we had unexplained situations kind of like those...but why
now. The Hellmouth isn't open, we saved the world..the apocolypse
is over...isn't it?"

"You did beat the Master." Angel interjected from the door. Buffy's
face lit up like a Christmas tree to see him, and Xander gritted his
teeth. "But something or someone will always want to take his
place. As for the Hellmouth, the Seal that safeguards it from
opening is leaking. It should be holding the Hellmouth properly
closed, and it isn't!"

Giles leapt up, jerking the chair backwards, "What Seal?"

********************End of Part Two **********************

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

Date: Thu, 28 Aug 1997 20:39:25 -0400
From: Anya <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Sealed with a Kiss  3/11

Sealed with a Kiss   3/11
by Anya
[e-mail]

The character used in this story are the creations of Joss Whedon,
Warner Bros, and any other lawful group with rights to Buffy the
Vampire Slayer. No infringement is intended

Part 3

Xander looked at the fence with apprehension. The last fence he
had attempted to jump was a less than favorite memory. In fact, he
was still positive he could hear the echo of the delightful 'thud' his
body made on landing.

But, that fence was in his way, and it wasn't as if he could just walk
up to Willow's house, knock on the door and say, "Oh hey! Hi Mrs.
Rosenberg, ..I know it's nearly midnight, but I've got this stone here
that will magically keep Willow from having nightmares. D'ya
mind if I put this in her room?"

No. That just wouldn't go over well at all. He'd never experience the
sensation of a home cooked meal again. The delicious aroma
wafting in from a kitchen...not a bag. The cluster of family gathered
around a single table for a dinner...nope. This had to be done.

Besides, he needed Willow awake, alert and with it, or else he was
never going to get that English assignment done. Or started for that
matter.

He reached up and gripped the top of the wooden fence. "I hope
Buffy's having more fun than this." Heaving himself up, he steadied
his balance, loosened his knees, leaned forward and jumped.

He remembered her Mom's new English water garden, sweeping
along the fence perimeter at the back of the garden, right after that
jump. *Splash*. Extracting himself, and pulling some gooey leaf
off his face, Xander uttered a few choice phrases about the kindness
of fate, and his own brand of bad luck, and a few observations on
how darn lucky Willow was to have such a good friend.

Walking his way across the rest of the yard, with a delightful
"squoosh" to each step, he watched the ground rather carefully. He
could expect a rake or hose, or some new unusual instrument of
embasement to trip him up in this shadowy darkness. Somehow, he
failed to catch site of a nearly glowing white mass from hell
watching his every move. The little white blob slowly stalked
Xander from behind, it's pathetic versions of a growl hidden by the
strange wet-sounds Xander's shoes were making.

Xander nearly screamed in frustration as the rat-dog from hell
attached itself to his pant cuff. How COULD Willow call this little
rat a dog? Even more important, how could she call it a pet? Her
pet? Her lovable pet? Xander was certain this 'pet' was a creature
right out of the Hellmouth.

Every time Xander came over to Willow's, this hell spawn attached
itself to his pant leg, uttering it's pathetic whiney little growls. And
the damn thing, while small, had sharp pointy pin-like teeth. They
scraped almost supernaturally well. Particularly on Xander's ankle.

"Damn dog." he muttered. Reaching down, he pried it off of him,
holding it by the scruff of the neck an arms length away. Fluffy
glowered at him, snarling in what it considered a fierce snarl.
Mental images of booting the unholy rat out of the backyard with
one swift kick almost broke Xander's will. But, Willow liked the
little hell spawn, and she'd have to learn about Fluffy's inherent evil
in her own time.

Detouring, he found his way to Fluffy's outdoor pen. Fluffy was
given a lot of leeway, and the pen was usually left open, giving the
dog free run of the backyard. "He probably goes swimming in that
stupid water garden." Xander muttered to himself. With a light flick
of his wrist, Xander dropped the would-be dog into the pen, closing
the gate quickly before the mutant rat could escape. "Ha! How'd ya
like that?" He bent down looking at the dog. "Next time, pick on
someone your own size...if you can find something as pathetically
small as you!"

Feeling immensely better with his victory over the dog, Xander
resumed his approach to Willow's house. The house was a sidesplit,
with the living room, kitchen, and dining room on the main level,
two of the bedrooms on the upper floor and two on the lower floor.
Unfortunately for Xander, Willow's room was on the upper floor.

____________________________________

Interlude:

Carmilla pensively nibbled on her thumb's fingernail, totally
unaware of what she was doing while her mind tried to sort things
out. Things were not going well. Not at all. That hideous dwarf of a
man was making her immortal life very difficult.

The Seal. Everything she had worked for was at risk. All the
sacrifices, compromises...everything! Because that creepy
hunchback monster was obsessive about having the Seal. How was
a sweet angelic girl like herself supposed to keep all her promises
when fate threw something that butt-ugly in her way?

Her eyes widened with that last though, shocked at how crude her
mental imageries were. Obviously her last stay in heaven had been
some time ago ... she was beginning to think in human terms. This
was not good. She had a certain image to maintain after all.

End Interlude
_____________________________________

Buffy, Giles and Angel sat in the confined space of the Watcher's
office. Books, papers and fragile documents all carefully and
meticulously laid away in bookshelves lining the walls in this tiny
room, the glass doors in front of each case bearing a rather sturdy
lock.

Angel had discoursed to them all as much as he knew about the
Seal, and it's existence. His knowledge was limited, unfortunately,
due to lack of exposure. While the Master had been occupying the
chamber holding the Seal, Angel had not dared go near it. The seal
had lain rather dormant under the Master's occupation. The
Hellmouth and Seal confined like flies in amber even as the Master
was trapped, because of the failed attempt some 70 years ago.

Giles felt a need for some further and extensive research on Seals,
the seal, and the Hellmouth in general, before anything final was
decided on the subject. Angel had conceded that blaming incidents
of bizarre activity on the Seals' failure was premature. He couldn't
be certain the Seal was failing, just as he couldn't be certain there
was another interloper bent on violating the Seal. Angel did believe
it probable, though.

So, Giles had packed up what books he had deemed necessary from
the table in the center of the library, wandering back to his office.
Angel following close behind as the unlikely pair discussed
possible sources.

Ms. Calendar had taken Xander, and the two of them had gone to
fetch the topaz for Willow. Ms. Calendar would prepare the stone,
and drop Xander off near Willow's home. Since he knew Willow's
family and house well, Xander was best suited to sneak the
protective charm into Willow's bedroom.

Buffy had elected to keep Angel under close personal surveillance.

Sitting quite calmly on a chair she had dragged in from the study
carols, she watched as the Watcher and the soul-cursed vampire
began working through various antiquated scraps of paper and
books. They were truly absorbed in the research, occasionally
exchanging comments on whether a source was redundant, or had a
piece of relevant information.

Angel had proven quiten useful at this task. Living at a time when
Latin was still a living language, he found reading and translating
from Latin into English a trivial thing. Books that took Giles hours
to read through, since he had to transliterate and translate as he
went for the relevant information, took Angel a fraction of the time
to work through. He didn't have to bother reading and translating,
he just had to remember to switch back to English when he spoke
up.

Buffy felt rather redundant. For all that she had accused Giles of
being no use here with his books, it was here with these books he
was so intimate with that all their knowledge came from. Buffy,
being the Slayer and young, had no patience for the fuss of reading
and translating prophecies, or Watcher Journals of years gone by.

The two men were totally engrossed in whatever it was they were
reading, again. Aimlessly, Buffy wandered over to the bookcase
behind her chair, fingers stroking across the spines of a few books,
one in particular caught her eye. It was a strange color, for leather,
and even stranger texture. Pulling it out gently, she was shocked to
feel the brittleness of the fabric binding the book. It looked like
leather, but leather was far more durable than this. Frowning, she
opened the book just a crack to look at the pages inside. They were
of the same material too. The hand written ink on the pages was
difficult to read. It was both blotchy and faded, as if the ink had
leaked across the page when written on originally, and faded to near
illegibility over time.

The book intrigued her. It was hard to imagine someone writing a
book that could not last. Raising it up towards Giles, she called out.
"Giles? What kind of leather is this?"

The Watcher looked up in mild surprise. Buffy had been so quiet
this past hour, he had nearly forgotten she was here. Refocusing his
eyes on the object in the distance, he recognized the book
immediately. "Leather? Human, I believe."

Buffy nearly dropped the book. As it was, the volume found it's
shelf again quite quickly. "Human? That's disgusting?!?!"

"Quite. It's difficult to cure well. And it doesn't hold ink nearly as
well as I could wish. An inferior material to document such
important information on." Responded the Watcher absently, once
again concentrating on Raymond Buckland's "Anatomy of the
Occult".

The Slayer stared at him in amazement. How could he blow off
something so...so...icky? Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced
at Angel. He hadn't even come up for air *Not that he needs air*,
she minded herself. Both of them. She should have gone with
Xander. At least then she'd be doing something, rather than just
going plain stir-crazy.
_______________________________________

Willow was sleeping, just not peacefully, Xander noted. Curled up
in the fetal position, she faced the door with her back to the
window. She was making soft distressed moans, her head tossing
somewhat, and arms wrapped tightly around herself.

Tiptoeing closer, Xander felt around in his pant pockets for the blue
topaz. "Oh god. I hope it didn't fall into the water garden!" He
thought as pockets both proved empty. Patting himself down,
visions of having to climb out the window, to the roof, and down
the antenna to creep across the yard and sift through the entirety of
the pond haunted him. "Please let it be here! Please let that damn
garden NOT have a drain..Please!" His shoulders slumped, and he
leaned forward in despair, causing the chain around his neck to pull
free of the wet shirt, and the blue Topaz he had carefully put around
his neck so he couldn't accidentally drop it, swung free.

Xander could have slapped himself for being a moron. Fingers
fumbling, he unhooked the chains catch, setting the stone down on
the night table beside Willow's bed. Turning, he tried to sneak
across the room to write her a note. Willow was good at noticing
things out of place, and a pendant like that would not be missed.

Removing the seat cushion, Xander sat down on her wooden desk
chair, wincing at the feel of is wet clothing pressed so close to his
drying skin. It wasn't easy to see in the dark for something as small
as a pen. Notepaper was easy to find on Willow's desk. She kept a
block of it to the right of her computer. Squinting he looked on top
of the desk for a pencil can or something. Instead, his eyes fell on a
series of framed pictures. Lifting one down, he turned so that the
light from outside fell onto the frame. It was a picture of him and
Willow, taken perhaps a year ago.

- -----------------Continued in Part 3B/11------------------------------

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

Date: Thu, 28 Aug 1997 20:39:57 -0400
From: Anya <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Sealed with a Kiss 1/11

Sealed with a Kiss      1/11
by Anya
[e-mail]

I don't own Buffy, Giles, Willow, Xander and crew. They belong to
Joss Whedon, WB and co. I'm just borrowing them. So, please, no
one sue me . . . I don't have any money anyway. I do, however, own
Carmilla (as much as one can own an 'Angel') and Cai.
********************************************************

Prologue:

"Get stuffed, ya stupid winged freak!" snarled the misshapen old
man in a harsh and rasping voice. Squat, filthy and profoundly ugly,
his face was screwed into an expression of perpetual contempt.

A woman of ethereal beauty looked at him from across the room,
ignoring the ruins and rubble their little squabble had caused. The
pristine walls were cracked, the debris of the marble ruins lying in
large chunks on the floor. The stairs up to the altar were upheaved,
ruined beyond repair. Miraculously, the altar and it's sacred burden
remained intact. The amulet still glittered freshly.

"This is not over, old man! I will not fail!" she said softly, focusing
her eyes on the gnarled hunchback.

"Yeah right! I'm stronger than you are, sweetheart! I got more
power than a freaking 'holier than thou' screw-up like yourself, and
I'm a lot younger than you, ya old bitch. I ain't giving up on the seal!
It's MINE!" He swore coarsely at her. His bow legs stood strong on
top of the rubble, and he sneered at her.

Collecting her dignity, the angel wrapped her glowing white cloak
around herself and haughtily raised her chin. "We we'll see, we will
just see!". With an indignant sniff, she vanished.

Tilting his head to one side, grumbling quietly, the ugly man
seemed to be listening. Grunting, he glanced at the glowing amulet.
"Well.. that went well. Mostly. I guess it's back to work on that
stupid girl. Would've thought by now she'd have clued in. Dumb
kid."

****************************************************

Part One:

Alexander Harris was not impressed and more than a little worried,
and from the look on Buffy Summers face, neither was she. The
object of their mutual consternation sat munching on her lunch in
total distraction. She looked like hell, too, Xander noted with a
frown. "She's still not okay, y'know." He muttered to the Slayer.

Buffy flicked him a quick look. "Yeah. But she won't say what's
eating her." Belatedly, she winced at the poor choice of words. "Not
that something is literally 'eating' her, I hope." Xander, she knew,
would be turning green as dinner memories, where he was to be the
main course, came hauntingly back.

Willow, oblivious to their concern, just munched on. Buffy was
willing to bet everything she owned that Willow couldn't even tell
anyone what type of sandwich she had. Pale, disoriented, and
exceedingly skittish, Willow was backsliding into the painfully shy
girl Buffy first met. And her health was also slipping downhill at a
terrific pace.  Yesterday, during her spare, Willow had passed out in
the library. And it was only Wednesday. *God only knows, at this
rate, she'll be hospitalized by Friday.*

Giles and Ms. Calendar were even concerned about the young
hacker. Willow, on the whole, was always bright, cheerful with a
ready smile to dole out. But when she came to school last Thursday,
she seemed a little overtired. By Monday, she was jumpy and
exhausted. When she collapsed in the library, Giles had discreetly
removed her to his office, and closed the library. According to
Buffy's Watcher, Willow had woken up some twenty minutes later,
screaming in apparent agony.

It was agreed that something was seriously disturbing Willow, but
as yet, the adults were unwilling to consider it was supernatural in
nature. Buffy was worried, with all the strange things happening in
Sunnydale of late, that Willow's problems were connected. Their
biggest difficulty lay in the fact that no one knew what it was
affecting Willow.

Consequently, Xander had been given the fun task of investigating
happenings at home. Willow hadn't even _cared_ that Xander was
following her like a faithful puppy, and spending a great deal of
time with her after school. That, more than anything, had convinced
Buffy the world was truly about to end.

Xander had escorted her right home, Friday night, and spent dinner
with her family. Over the weekend, he had been her virtual shadow.
Monday and Tuesday, he had dinner with her family again, and
stayed after allegedly for 'help' on his homework. He actually had
his biology homework done, and his parents were in danger of
forgetting that they had a son, but he had still learned nothing
revealing on Willow's homefront.

And Willow was only getting worse. This morning, Buffy could
have sworn someone had punched Willow, the skin under her eyes
was so dark, and her face so pale. "This has got to end." Buffy
muttered, earning a 'no kidding!' snort from Xander.

Xander grumbled something, trotting off to sit beside Willow.
Buffy shook her head bemused, if Willow had been even slightly
more with it, she would have swooned from all the TLC she was
getting out of Xander. Unfortunately, she was so distracted, most
times, she wasn't aware that he was shadowing her so closely.

Slowly, Buffy wandered over to join them. She felt so useless. She
could slay vampires, fight invisible girls, she-mantis' and all sorts of
other supernatural odds'n' sods, but was clueless as to how to help
Willow.

*********************************

In a distant corner of her mind, Willow was aware of her friends
concern. And she did take comfort from it. But she was so tired,
and yet, the nightmares just loomed, waiting for her eyes to drift
shut. It felt like she'd been seeing her friends, and families deaths in
her dreams for years now, not just eight days.

And the physical toll it was having on her was brutal. Cordelia
would only have to glance at her to reduce Willow to tears, her
appetite was dropping off tremendously, and her schoolwork was
suffering badly.

The doctor she had seen had given her some sedatives, but they
were worse. After taking a sedative and going to sleep she found
she was trapped in those nightmares. Waking up screaming was one
thing, but screaming and unable to wake up.... A shudder rippled
through her body, and a jacket fell across her shoulders with
Xander's scent on it.

Jerking her consciousness back to the real world she became aware
of Buffy and Xander sitting beside her, Xander on her right, Buffy
in the front of her. Meeting Buffy's eyes for a brief second, Willow
also caught the hurt in them when she unintentionally flinched
away. Buffy was hunting, but this time for whatever it was that was
hurting her friend.

"Sorry," Willow whispered, trying to take away the hurt.

Buffy reached out and took her hand, giving it a comforting
squeeze. "It's okay." Taking the opportunity, she moved slightly
closer, and while not letting go of Willow's hand, she eased her grip
on it. "Willow, I know you don't want to, but...please tell us what's
bothering you?"

Willow just shook her head negatively. "It's nothing."

"Like hell!" Xander cursed softly, not wanting his friend to be
startled. "It's not 'nothing', and I for one don't care if it's
something
as small as spiders or ants, or whatever. Something has your cage so
rattled it's making you sick!" He softened his voice more, and
nudged her gently,"We're your best friends, Willow. You are
important to us. Trust us."

Willow was somewhat surprised at Xander's response. Oh, not that
he didn't care, or wasn't a good friend, but this consuming need to
help her...that was new. Normally he just offered sympathy and a
witty, if inane comment. Despite his concern, she still just shook
her head, "No. Nothing's bothering me. I--I'm just having problems
sleeping."

Buffy, as could be expected, jumped on this. "Problems? What kind
of problems?" Her sharp gaze grew pensive as she mentally listed
possibilities.

Willow sighed softly, her shoulder slumping. Xander wrapped a
arm around her shoulders, offering her his strength, and comfort.
Ironically, something she would have died for, under normal
circumstances, but right now, just wanted the warm comfort of her
friend. "I---it's--uh, just, umm...insomnia. My doctor gave me some
sedatives, but, they um, don't agree with me." Clearly, she could see
that Buffy and Xander didn't buy this. But they also weren't willing
to call her a liar.

Dropping her gaze to her lap, Willow felt Buffy's slim hand catch
her chin and raise it so their eyes met again. "And there's been no
nightmares?", she asked, tilting her head and leaning forward.

Willow felt the panic attack rise up, and forcibly held it back.
"No...not really...maybe once...or twice." *A night* she silently
added. Over her head, she knew Buffy and Xander were exchanging
glances, and probably would have shared thoughts, if she hadn't
been sitting right there. Xander's grip tightened, and even as he was
about to speak, Willow was saved by the bell. Jumping up with
more energy than she actually had, she scooped her lunchbag, and
schoolbag together, letting Xander's jacket fall off her shoulders
and onto the table.

"Umm...I've, uh, gotta get to class." she said with as much strength
as she could muster. Then softer, almost a whisper, "I'll see you
guys later." She turned on heel, and nearly ran to the school.

Xander picked up his light jacket with an angry violence. "She lied
to us!" He nearly shouted. For the life of himself, he couldn't
understand it. Willow was falling apart, and instead of asking for
help, or talking about it, she was covering it up.

Buffy placed a restraining hand on his arm, the other hand lowering
her sunglasses into place on the bridge of her nose. "Yes. She did.
But, we know she did. So, we can go to Giles with this information
and figure out how to help her." She flashed him a bright smile,
"Don't worry, Xander, Willow will be okay! We'll make sure she
is!".

*********************End Part One************************

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

Date: Thu, 28 Aug 1997 20:39:51 -0400
From: Anya <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Sealed with a Kiss  2/11

Sealed with a Kiss    2/11
by Anya
[e-mail]

I don't own Buffy, Giles, Willow, Xander and crew. They belong to
Joss Whedon, WB and co. I'm just borrowing them. So, please, no
one sue me . . . I don't have any money anyway.

Part Two:

Rupert Giles pulled his glasses off and pressed the heels of his
palms into his tired eyes, rubbing them in slow circles. The heaped
pile of newspaper articles, books, manuscripts and other assorted
pieces of paper spread out on the table of front of him hid the
beautiful antique mahogany. It seemed as if no sooner did he work
through a text, than another one took it's place. And Giles was
beginning to despair of ever working through the accumulating
clutter of research. Shoulders slumped, he cast a dark look at the
mess, and an even darker look at the happily humming
Ms. Calendar, as she typed away quietly and contentedly on her
infernal computer.

Sighing he reached for his notepad, ready to annotate what little he
had found before Buffy arrived. Buffy had sashayed into the library
just before her last period to announce there would be a session
tonight, but not immediately after school. Two-thirds of the three
musketeers were on a mercy mission. Willow Rosenberg was being
escorted right home, taken straight to her room, and tucked right
into bed. Only when Buffy and Xander felt that this mission had
been successfully fulfilled would they hustle discretely back to the
school.

Willow. Giles pen froze as an image of the girl the last time he saw
her today flashed through his mind. As a rule of thumb, when
Willow had a free period, she came to the library. It was quiet here,
generally the other students didn't have a clue where it was, and
with the silence came no one to tease her for her intellectual bent.
And Giles welcomed her presence. Willow's study skills had
facilitated his own research tremendously. He knew, eventually,
he'd have to learn to use those dreadful machines she so loved, but,
so long as Willow was willing to help out ... he could postpone the
inevitable.

Aimlessly drifting in, the girl had wandered over to her computer
perched off the main table. Her eyelids were drooping heavily, the
skin beneath the eyes an alarming green/blue on her already pale
skin. He should have, he realized belatedly, insisted she go home
and get some rest. Willow had tossed him a sad shadow of her usual
smile, waving him off.

She hadn't been able to focus on much around her, although she
tried. She had flicked the computer on, and as Giles sat and
watched, stared at the flickering lights of the monitor for ten
minutes before shaking herself out of her funk. Giles hadn't had the
heart to ask her to find anything. Willow simply wasn't up to it, and
he was still unnerved by the memory of her collapse the day before.

Willow had been on the upper floor, pulling some book on the
Eleusine mysteries. Walking towards the rail and stairs, eyes glued
to the text, her head had shot up when another student brushed past
her on his way to the stacks. The movement and surprise had
obviously been too sudden for her body to handle. Giles had nearly
had a heart attack, she had collapsed with a soft whisper of a moan
so close to the iron rail guard.

The student who had surprised her had ran to get Giles, and Giles
had prudently shooed the child out of the library, removing Willow
to the office. Laying her down on the cot he had been forced to buy
(after a week of sleeping in the library), he had been sorely tempted
to call the nurse, but Willow had been breathing easy, if a little fast.
Even as she lay unconscious in the office, she had been in a state of
obvious REM activity. Giles hadn't wanted to wake her, so clearly
she needed the sleep. That decision was short-lived, regretfully. Not
twenty minutes after her initial collapse she had come awake with a
blood-curdling scream, her entire body shaking in violent sobs ...

A hand dropped on his shoulder, and Giles breaking him out of his
memories. Ms. Samantha Calendar looked down at him with a
sympathetic smile. "Something wrong, Rupert? You look lost."

"Lost," he sighed again. "Lost is a rather large understatement for
how I feel. Overwhelmed comes closer, but still falls short." He
tossed his pen down onto the notepad, watching it roll off the lined
paper pad into a recessed crack between the notepad and
newspapers, eminently buried. He stood up suddenly, feeling her
hand drop of his shoulder as he did so, and began pacing. "No, I
was just thinking about Willow."

Samantha nodded, looking at the clock. "I imagine Buffy and
Xander have gotten her home by now. I hope she starts to feel better
soon." Sinking down into the chair Giles had abandoned, she
continued. "I don't know why she came to school today. She is
obviously suffering for exhaustion, unable to concentrate, listless,
and physically manifesting signs of illness.... She couldn't even
compose a simple string for the assignment in class today, and she
finds tasks like that ridiculously easy. She simply was unable to
focus. "

"Yes. That's exactly it. She can't focus on the world around her.
Most likely, as you implied, a result of sleep deprivation, but one
would have thought her doctor would have taken care of that by
now." Giles muttered, running a hand across his chin.

"A doctor did," entered a confident new voice . Buffy stood in the
entryway, looking her usual chic in a slim, arm baring white sheath
dress . Privately, Giles deemed her wardrobe inappropriate for
hunting, but it seemed to work for her. Standing beside Buffy,
Xander looked like a frump.

"Willow said her doctor gave her sedatives but, quote: they didn't
agree with her, unquote." The young slayer stalked over to the two
adults, Xander in tow behind, and flopped inelegantly into a free
chair. "She's also having nightmares every time she goes to sleep."

Ms. Calendar looked up sharply at that. "Did Willow say she was
having nightmares?"

Buffy paused, looking venomously at the woman for catching the
slight variance in presentation. "No..."

"But her mother did." Xander inserted. Buffy shot him a grateful
smile. " After Buff's and I discussed the whole nightmare thing, and
Willow denied it, I thought I'd just ask Mrs. Rosenberg. According
to her, Willow's woken up every night screaming her head off."
Xander smiled sadly, proud to have finally found a key piece of
information.

"Nightmares..." Ms. Calendar muttered. She stood up slowly and
walked around the chair and table in a large circle to Willow's
computer. Sitting down, she thoughtfully punched a few keys.

Buffy looked at the woman, then Giles who just shrugged, before
glancing at Xander with a "did we just miss something?"
expression. Xander raised an eyebrow, and ambled around to hover
over the esteemed computer teacher's shoulder.

Reading the flashing screens as fast as he could, Xander swiftly
decided to concede defeat and wait for the teacher to rejoin them in
this plane of existence. Ms. Calendar moved almost as fast as
Willow did on a computer.

The thought brought a pang of conscience to the teen. Willow
would be so hurt to know they had purposefully excluded her from
tonights' meeting. But, it was for her own good, he rationalized.
They needed Willow here, with her wits collected. Ms. Calendar
was good on a computer, but no where near Willow's level of skill.
Besides, those ethics that didn't get in Willow's way sure stopped
Ms. Calendars cold when hacking was required.

His conscience mildly appeased, Xander absently began lean over
Ms. Calendar's shoulder, again trying to read the screen. She
seemed to be going through reports, done in a spreadsheet
format...* how does anyone know how to read those things?* he
wondered.

A sudden "AHA!" made every back in the room shoot straight up.

"Aha?" Buffy asked hopefully. She gave the dark-haired woman a
pixieish smile.

Ms. Calendar smiled widely. "There's been an unparalleled increase
in reports of insomnia! But even better, there's been a very large
increase in reported cases of severe nightmares causing insomnia!

Xander pursed his lips and shook his head. "And this is good
news?" he said incredulously. He moved from his perch beside her
to stand beside Buffy's chair.

"Willow's nightmares aren't natural in origin. Or they're unlikely to
be natural in origin." Ms. Calendar said crisply. "Nightmares are
usually limited to children. They are part of normal development.
BUT nightmares are less common in adults, perhaps 5-10% of all
adults have nightmares."

Giles approached the table again, thoughtfully cleaning his glasses.
"Although, they could be caused by medications, or childhood
traumas...is Willow on any medications other than the sedatives? "

Xander seemed to consider this, "Not that I know of. Her family is
really into using homeopathic medicines before anything else. And
I've known Willow since we were toddlers. The biggest trauma
she's ever had was the death of her goldfish. We had a lovely
funeral for them. Flushed straight down with a full salute. "

Giles frowned, "I don't consider Willow overly emotional, so that
rules out that." He began muttering to himself, and wandered back
to his office. The echoes of his mumbling faded, stopping, and then
grew stronger as he returned with a book in hand. The faded blue
canvas binding the book looked worn. And the gold letters that had
once proudly announced title and author were scarcely visible.

Giles leafed through brittle yellow pages quickly, searching for
some section that lurked buried within the volume. Head tilted
down, he traced his finger down the length of page, as if tracking
informaton.

Buffy watched him become lost in his own scholarly world. Rolling
her eyes comically, she loudly cleared her throat. "Giles? Would
you like to share with the rest of us here?"

"Wha--? Oh, my apologies. I was just considering a final
alternative. Are we certain that Willow is suffering from
nightmares?..."

"That's what her Mom said," Xander interjected loudly. "I think her
Mom would know best, she lives with her, after all."

"Yes, yes. I'm well aware that she's having episodes at night. We've
established that based on the testimony of her parents. What I'm
wondering is whether this is a case of nightmares...or night terrors."

                         --------continued in Part 2B------------

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

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