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From: buffyfic-owner@xmission.com (buffyfic Digest) To: buffyfic-digest@xmission.com Subject: buffyfic Digest V1 #29 Reply-To: buffyfic@xmission.com Sender: buffyfic-owner@xmission.com Errors-To: buffyfic-owner@xmission.com Precedence: buffyfic Digest Sunday, September 7 1997 Volume 01 : Number 029 In this issue: BUFFYFIC: The Buffy Bunch BUFFYFIC: Gone 3: The God of Nine Walls 5/? by JJ BUFFYFIC: The Betrayal of the Technologically Inept Re: BUFFYFIC: The Betrayal of the Technologically Inept Re: BUFFYFIC: The Betrayal of the Technologically Inept Re: BUFFYFIC: The Betrayal of the Technologically BUFFYFIC: The Buffy Bunch (Slightly Revised) BUFFYFIC: Summer Vacation -- Epilogue (1/1) BUFFYFIC: Gone 3: The God of Nine Walls 6/? 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: Fri, 05 Sep 1997 02:06:11 -0700 From: Lisa Rose <cybrpaws@wco.com> Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Buffy Bunch THE BUFFY BUNCH (To the tune of "The Brady Bunch") Here's the story Of a girl named Buffy Who once longed for every simple teenage thrill Dating, leading cheers, Avoiding dying Not dressing just to kill Here's the story Of her mentor Giles Who once hoped he'd fly a plane or run a store Hopes dashed long ago When daddy told him "You're watching, read your lore!" Giles reminded doubting Buffy of her duty Xander, Willow, and she must do more than lunch! Their small group Should form a vampire swat-team They weren't lame, so they became the Buffy Bunch The Buffy Bunch No Master munch! Teen blood ran, so they began the Buffy Bunch! (lyrics copyright 1997 by Lisa Rose) - -------------------------------------------------- Lisa These and other Buffy TV show themes can be found in the "Traditional Songs" section of the Little Buffy Page: http://www.wco.com/~cybrpaws/lilbuffy.html ------------------------------ Date: Fri, 5 Sep 1997 19:59:42 -0400 From: Jesse Jou <jjou@mail.med.cornell.edu> Subject: BUFFYFIC: Gone 3: The God of Nine Walls 5/? by JJ Title: Gone 3: The God of Nine Walls Author: JJ email address: jjou@mail.med.cornell.edu Distribution: With permission of the author Spoiler Warning: No spoilers for any real episode Rating: PG-13 Warnings: There's some kissing and grown-up things, but nothing you wouldn't see on TV. Classification: UTB Summary: Both Anya's Gone... and my Gone II can be found on the Slayer's Fanfic Archive. I would recommend reading the previous stories, but 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 5 When he arrived at the university, Xander stopped to get his mail from the department secretary before going to his office. Rosita, the dark-haired woman behind the desk, greeted him with a warm smile, handing him a pile of journals. "You look like you ate a canary," she observed, her attractive, irregular features touched with amusement. "What?" he asked, snapping out of his imagining the taste of Willow's skin.. "You're not usually smiling when you come in the morning," Rosita explained. "Did you score last night?" "I guess so," he answered with a smirk, liking the woman's forthrightness. "I saw someone I haven't seen in a long time. It was an unexpected surprise." "Cool," she said. "What's his name?" "Her name is Willow," he corrected. Rosita paused. "You seem surprised," Xander asked. She shook her head, "No. Sorry. Don't take this the wrong way, but I always thought you were gay." Xander was taken aback, but not offended by the remark. "What made you think that?" he asked curiously. She shrugged. "Don't know. Just thought you were. I hope you're not offended?" He shook his head, smiling at her as he left the department office. On the second floor of the Chase Building, a young man waited for him outside his office. "Hey, Doc!," he said agreeably upon seeing Xander. "Hi, Chris," he said, as the young man wiped his glasses on his vintage Xena: Warrior Princess t-shirt. "Listen, Dr. Harris," Chris rambled, as Xander unlocked the office door and invited the student inside. "I think I've figured out what I'm going to write about for my independent study. I've been doing a little research about Sunnydale, going through some old newspaper clippings. Do you know this area has the highest unsolved murder rate in all towns with populations of 20,000-40,000 people in Northern California?" Xander smiled to himself, plopping down in his chair. "I think I'd read that somewhere." "Yeah, well, you know," Chris continued, as he dug out of his backpack a notebook in which his research was carefully jotted down. "I'm from the Bay area and used to my share of weird stuff, but the stuff that happens in this town...Wow!" "So what are you thinking?" Xander asked, interested in the young man's opinion. "About 80 years ago there was an enormous earthquake that damaged only two structures in the entire town. The city hall and the church. The church was completely swallowed by a sinkhole, but the town hall was rebuilt. Weird, huh? I mean, earthquakes aren't usually known for their discriminatory power." Xander's ears perked up at the mention of the earthquake that had trapped the Master. "Well, the church itself was built over a Spanish mission that burned down in the late 1800's," Xander offered. "Right!" Chris send enthusiastically, "And the Spanish mission was itself built over Indian sacred ground." "It's not unusual for foreign religions to appropriate the trappings of the indigenous beliefs. It facilitated conversion..." Xander broached. "Yes," Chris said, scratching his goatee, "But look at what was built over the church." He handed the professor a photocopy of the front page of the August 25, 1952 Sunnydale Gazette announcing the opening of Sunnydale High School, with a photo of the architect George Underwood Easterman holding the scissors just before cutting the ribbon. "After designing the school, Easterman came into a whole lot of money that allowed him to start the university," Chris revealed, smugly satisfied by the level of research. "But the school burned down 8 years ago." Xander struggled not to remember the events of that night. The night they lost Buffy. Buffy's voice flashed in his head, --You guys, get out of here!-- "All of this is pretty much common knowledge," Xander said, uncomfortably. "A new city hall was built over the ruins of the school." Then Chris presented his piece de la resistance. "But what people don't know is that Easterman designed it." "Easterman died 25 years ago," Xander countered. "In his original contract with the town, he specified that if anything happened to the school, the town hall had to be moved to the location, with the exact design he provided in 1952. His executors threatened the city with a multibillion dollar suit if the contract's terms weren't fulfilled." "Which explains why City Hall doesn't have central air," Xander realized. "Exactly!" Chris exploded, carefully unfolding a map of the town. "One other thing: I accessed the police data base..." "Accessed?" Xander asked, bemused. "Okay, *hacked* into the police data base and chose a random number of murders over the last 30 years and where they occurred. Then I went back into the town archives and sampled another set of murders from the pre-computer files. Then I added the other weird stuff: spontaneous combustion, xenoglossia, etc. Check this out." He laid the map out on the desk. Almost all of it, denoted by small red marks, fell within a perfect circle that covered half the town. With a particularly high concentration falling in the center. Xander laid his finger on that point, "The high school?" Chris nodded grimly. "But what are you going to do with this information?" Xander inquired. "The tunnels under the school are still extant. I want to investigate them." Xander stared incredulously. This young man had almost deciphered the entire secret of the Hellmouth and now wanted to the throw himself into the danger of the Sunnydale tunnel system. "Absolutely not," Xander forbad. Then saw the crestfallen expression on the man's face. "Chris, this is great work, but you'll be breaking the law, and what you're proposing is very dangerous. As your professor, I cannot in good conscience allow you to do this." "Dr. Harris..." "If it's the grade you're worried about, you're welcomed to write up what you've found. It's 'A' work, but..." "Christ, Dr. Harris! It's not about the grade. There's something there! I can feel it!" Chris implored, but Xander's expression was stern and unyielding. "You're not going to change your mind, are you?" "Be reasonable," Xander suggested. "I'm happy to see you so enthusiastic about this, but don't rush into something that could get you arrested or hurt." "You know what? For such a young guy, you really are a fuddy-duddy!" Chris observed bitterly. "Probably," Xander agreed. "But please, Chris, promise me you won't do anything stupid like go down into the tunnels." Reluctantly, the younger man nodded. "I guess I better go start typing this up, huh?" he conceded, packing his things up. Xander smiled, "Sure." The young man got up and started for the door. "Next week, okay?" "Absolutely," Xander sighed, happy to have dissuaded the student from acting hastily. "Take care, Chris." The door closed. Xander turned to his work and got lost in it for 20 minutes before he heard the door creak open. Swiveling around, he turned to face his new visitor. It was an incredibly beautiful woman with straight dark hair, cut short and falling to two sharp points on either side of her mouth. Her eyes were ovoid and a tawny hazel color. "Dr. Harris, I presume," she said in a voice like velvet being rubbed the wrong way. He nodded, speechless. "My name is Hecate," the woman offered, sitting down without waiting for an invitation. "We have things to discuss." - --- In Xander's house, Willow lay on the ground, gasping for breath. The Anointed One was dead. The God stirred. - ---- end Part 5 ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 04 Sep 1997 20:33:14 -0400 From: Anya <anya@interlinks.net> Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Betrayal of the Technologically Inept The Betrayal of the Technologically Inept -Archive Fanfic by Anya It was, in Willow's opinion, the ultimate betrayal. It was one thing for Buffy to become addicted to the Fanfic sites, and the mailing lists. Willow could cope with that, there was back-up to deal with the Slayer, as well as SOFA to offer Willow the continued emotional support she needed to function. Xander's shifting loyalties from a true SOFA to an addict...that had been a brutal blow, and Angel's conversion on the heel of Xanders... Willow shuddered, wrapping her arms tightly about her. Ms. Calendar had remarked on the cruel hyocrisy of it all. In her struggle to save her friends, Willow, the computer nerd, advocated shunning all things Internet. But then, Willow had more control than to log onto the net every spare moment. Willow was able to go to the Bronze, school, and shopping without a compulsive "MUST-LOG-ON" fit. Buffy, Xander and Angel lacked that discipline. Angel had out and out BEGGED for the loan of a computer. It was a piteous sight to see. A grown 250+ year old vampire, on his knees, arms wrapped around her knees and practically pulling her off balance as he wept his desperate need of a computer..and modem. It was so painful, to hear herself voicing Giles' protests of the computer. It was as if everything she had known, believed in, and trusted, all her true strengths, had caved in. But..this...this went beyond that. Willow slid down to the floor, arms wrapped tightly about her knees. Keening softly, she felt her soul shrivelling up inside with the horror of it all. She was utterly alone, and defenceless against the addicts. Giles, the Watcher. Steadfast anti-computer librarian, had succumbed to this plague-like addiction. He was a Fanfic-looney too. She had been sitting in chemistry class, actively taking notes in an effort to ignore Buffy's incessant whining for computers in every classroom. It had been been a shock to hear herself summoned to the office over the PA system. Ms. Cooper had excused Willow from class, reminding her to get the homework off a classmate. Hustling down the corridors, Willow had mentally compiled various excuses for whatever infraction she may have committed, although no recent crimes came to mind. "Hi Mrs. Smartle," Willow said cheerfully, as she opened the door to the windowed office. The grey haired secretary smiled warmly at her, "Hello, dear. I'm sorry to pull you out of class, but Ms. Calendar said you were the best student to help Mr. Giles out. He's having a bit of difficulty with the computers in the library." Willow blinked a few times, before the most logical explanation sprung to mind. Giles and Ms. Calendar had concocted this excuse, obviously, there was something big in the wind, and Giles needed her help. "O-kay....I'll go to the library then! Thanks!" Tossing a quick wave behind her, she had nearly run to the library. "Giles?! I'm here, what's going on?" She shouted as she tossed her bag to the floor by the reception desk, and then raced for the computer. "I can't make this thing work!" The Watcher had said, owlishly blinking up at her with his glasses reflecting the screen's light. Something deep within Willow froze at the sight. "Get what to work?" He waved impatiently at the screen. "It worked on Ms. Calendars computer...but it won't on this one." Feeling herself cringe, she looked at the Javascript error message window that obscured the view of the Slayer's Fanfic Archive page. "No, Giles...not you too!" "Make it stop that..." The Watcher begged. "Please? Why is it doing those awful messages to me?" She felt her knees give out, "No Giles, please, please, snap out of it. This is a computer..the web...those cold, impersonal machines you don't like..remember? They have no smells or anything..." He patted her on the head with the affectionate gesture a petowner bestows on their dog. "Yes, but it's rich with such diverse entertainments, knowledge and perceptions. What a marvelous device!" The horror had been too much, and Willow had backed away slowly, hands pushed out and head shaking 'no'. She could feel the sob in the back of her throat, aching to burst free. "NO!!" Spinning on heel, she ran out the door, and as far as she could from wherever Buffy, Xander and, now, Giles would be, or think of looking. "Maybe Anya can offer a solution. She seems to be in control..." Willow mused. "No, I can't ask that of her, not now. She's so upset that she has to remove the Javascript from the site, 'cause AOL users are incapable of handling it..." The cold stone of the wall lulled her senses, and she lost track of time, so wrapped up in her thoughts. "Willow?" A slim hand gently touched her shoulder, shaking her lightly. "Willow? What's wrong?" A tear-streaked face looked up, into the porcelain perfection of Cordelia's. The ruling Princess of the school had a tiny concerned frown creasing her perfect brow, as she knelt beside Willow. "They're all...." Willow's voice trailed off. "Addicted. I know." Cordelia said calmly, bestowing a reassuring squeeze on the hacker's shoulders. "I know the fanfic is good, but...that's all any of them do. My friends are just as bad." It took Willow's beleagured mind a few seconds to make the essential connection. "You're not hooked, too?" The brunette shook her long mane of hair. "No. I have more important things to obsess over." "Oh." Pursing her lips, Cordelia took stock of the situation. "Look, Willow, let's get out of here. I think you need some distance to regain your composure." Cordelia was being nice to her? This was so weird, it was like being in the Twilight Zone or something. "Why are you being nice to me? I'm the one who's seen the Softer Side of Sears, remember?" Cordelia visibly winced, "Yeah. I'm sorry about that. But, you're my only hope! We have to cure them of this addiction, or else NO ONE will notice ME anymore!" That made sense, as far anything that related to Cordelia was concerned. Willow allowed Cordelia to help her up, and guide her outside into the bright afternoon air. "Where are we going?" Cordelia flashed a brilliant smile, and fished her keys out of her pocket. *Where does she have room for a pocket in that dress?* Willow wondered. The dress was so snug it might as well been painted on. "Shopping, of course, I can't have you wearing such drab outfits while your hanging with me." The End? I'm going to have to take the Javascript off the Slayer's Fanfic Archive, as I indicated in this story, as apparently all things AOL choke on the Javascript. The coding I used for the 'glow' function is a little fancy, yes...but..I never realized that AOL was so @ss-backwards. *Grrrr* I'm tremendously upset at that. I busted my tail creating that function, *sigh* Oh well. Life goes on. All I ask, is no one write me asking what happened to it. Thanks! - -Anya ------------------------------ Date: Fri, 05 Sep 1997 21:20:08 -0400 From: Virginia Eveland <dscully@erols.com> Subject: Re: BUFFYFIC: The Betrayal of the Technologically Inept Have you considered using it with JUST HTML code for that pretty glow? Um.. if you go to shareware.com and look up widget, I think you can finda button widget that can do it without any fancy code at'all. - -- Virginia Eveland dscully@erols.com UIN 1517244 Pretender,Slayerette, Bab5, X-Phile SYX, AGML, LGW, BLA, OBSSE, GASP Keeper of Giles's Inner Child Keeper of Buffy's Three Gold Hoop Earrings Keeper of Little Buffy's Dogeared Copy of 'Horton Slew a Who' - -- Webmistress of the Buffy ICQ List, B/G 'Shippers, BTVS Tape Trade http://www.erols.com/dscully/index.htm - -- ------------------------------ Date: Fri, 05 Sep 1997 21:59:57 -0400 From: Virginia Eveland <dscully@erols.com> Subject: Re: BUFFYFIC: The Betrayal of the Technologically Inept Ok, I was a bad bad girl, I thought my previous message was going directly to Anya, and not to the list, for which I profusely apologize. As my band director would say, "I made a mistake in my life...once..." Of course, the date he gives is about is about twenty years ago... And to put this slightly more on topic... I have this crazy idea for a fanfiction (self--you mean *another* one you aren'g going to finish, Virginia? Yes, self, I enjoy tormenting myself that way) Mainly, I'm tentative about posting what I have so far because A. It's a slash and B. It's *not* between the 'normal' characters considered for slash fiction. As in Buffy/Angel, or Buffy/Giles, or Angel/Willow or Xander/Willow or Xander/Cordeila, or Xander/Buffy. or even Giles/Willow. (some of you are probably wondering what the heck that *does* leave (g).) So, that makes me nervous. Actually, it's a (cringing, ducking, you get the idea) Willow/Buffy. Sooo....if people would e-mail me *privately* at dscully@erols.com that's mailto:dscully@erols.com as to their opinions on this, I would appriciate it. Thanks! - -- Virginia Eveland dscully@erols.com UIN 1517244 Pretender,Slayerette, Bab5, X-Phile SYX, AGML, LGW, BLA, OBSSE, GASP Keeper of Giles's Inner Child Keeper of Buffy's Three Gold Hoop Earrings Keeper of Little Buffy's Dogeared Copy of 'Horton Slew a Who' - -- Webmistress of the Buffy ICQ List, B/G 'Shippers, BTVS Tape Trade http://www.erols.com/dscully/index.htm - -- ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 04 Sep 1997 21:21:13 -0400 From: Anya <anya@interlinks.net> Subject: Re: BUFFYFIC: The Betrayal of the Technologically buffyfic@xmission.com wrote: > > Have you considered using it with JUST HTML code for that pretty glow? > Um.. if you go to shareware.com and look up widget, I think you can > finda button widget that can do it without any fancy code at'all. > -- Hi! I know I could do it in straight code, but it doesn't work quite the same. Also, I'm so heartily sick of it all, I'm just giving up. - -Anya ------------------------------ Date: Sat, 06 Sep 1997 14:17:29 -0700 From: Lisa Rose <cybrpaws@wco.com> Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Buffy Bunch (Slightly Revised) I just checked out this page of Sarah interview sound clips. Some of them are hilarious! http://www.tvguide.com/tv/watch/ww040397.htm Check out #7 where she sings "The Brady Bunch" song. I'm reposting here a *slightly revised* version of "The Buffy Bunch" in honor of that. My lyrics won't match syllable by syllable with what SMG sings, because I didn't cram all the extra syllables into certain lines (eg, "All of them had hair of gold just like their mother") that the original did. But mine should scan well to the original melody (with appropriate pauses). - -------------------------------------------------------- THE BUFFY BUNCH (To the tune of "The Brady Bunch") Here's the story Of a girl named Buffy Who once longed for every simple teenage thrill Dating, leading cheers, Avoiding dying Not dressing just to kill Here's the story Of her mentor Giles Who once hoped he'd fly a plane or run a store Hopes dashed long ago When daddy told him "You're watching, read your lore!" Giles reminded doubting Buffy of her duty Xander, Willow, and she must do more than lunch! Their small group Should form a vampire swat-team They weren't lame, so they became the Buffy Bunch The Buffy Bunch No time to munch! Teen blood ran, so they began the Buffy Bunch! (lyrics copyright 1997 by Lisa Rose) - -------------------------------------------------- Lisa These and other Buffy TV show themes can be found in the "Traditional Songs" section of the Little Buffy Page: http://www.wco.com/~cybrpaws/lilbuffy.html ------------------------------ Date: Sun, 7 Sep 1997 13:01:07 -0700 From: lizbet@primenet.com (Elizabeth Ann Lewis) Subject: BUFFYFIC: Summer Vacation -- Epilogue (1/1) <sigh> I meant to have this done before now, but the outside world distracted me. Sorrysorrysorry... And now... - -~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~-~*~ What I Did On My Summer Vacation... Epilogue by Elizabeth Ann Lewis Disclaimers: See Author's Notes lizbet@primenet.com With a certain amount of resignation, Giles viewed the interior of the Sunnydale High library. It had been repaired in his absence, and the repairs had done nearly as much damage to his filing system as the original earthquake. Forgetting himself, he sighed. And he had just finished the dusty, messy job of clearing out his office in London... "You're definitely going to need some help in here," Calendar said, shifting one of the boxes she carried to her other hip. She had been the only person he could think of to call when he had landed in California and found that his car had been towed from the long-term parking he had placed it in. She had cheerfully come down to get him, and cheerfully chattered in his ear all the way back to Sunnydale, mostly about a diary that had been discovered in Napa Valley that had been written about a century ago and had answers to several unsolved mathematical equations that would revolutionize the computer industry. Giles sighed again. "Yes," he said finally, surveying the wreckage, "I am." They worked throughout the afternoon companionably enough, Calender pausing occasionally to look through some of the more arcane volumes she found carelessly stacked here and there. "Gonna have to learn Latin," she muttered at one point, flipping through a volume done in exquisite calligraphy. "I'll teach you," Giles said absently, rescuing a three hundred year old volume from the floor and frowning at the cracks in the binding. When she didn't say anything, he glanced up to meet her eyes. "Thanks." She smiled tentatively. "I was going to look for a Web site that had lessons or something but... thanks." Suddenly embarrassed, Giles put the book down on a shelf. "It's nothing. It would... ah, be helpful to have someone else who can decipher these volumes." Shortly after sundown, pleading exhaustion, she left. "Don't work too hard, Rupert," she scolded lightly as she gathered up her purse and some papers. "I won't... blast it, what *is* your first name? If you insist on torturing me with Rupert." Calendar grinned and waved on her way out the door. "It's Nikki. And no, I'm not telling you what that's short for." Chuckling, Giles continued his labors under the glare of artificial light. Oddly enough, he didn't mind being there as much as he thought he would. His memory of the night of the Master's death was still vivid, but more than bearable. He had other memories... He paused while straightening the stack of previous Watcher's diaries. Harriet Wentworth's would be there, he knew. He had scanned it briefly, months before, looking for clues about the vampire she had called Angelus. But he hadn't read carefully, hadn't paid attention to the fate of the Slayer she had guarded... Slowly, he sorted through the stack. Hers was fairly thin, no more than a couple hundred pages, bound in boards rather than in leather. He lifted the cover with a hesitant hand, and stopped. A sound... no, not quite a sound. A *sense* made him look up, expecting to see Calendar -- Nikki? -- return, Willow reclaim her spot behind the computer, Buffy charging in to declaim *something* vitally important, Xander at her heels. Instead, it was the boy that Giles had met so briefly in his travels to Ireland and the eighteenth century. Except that he was no longer a boy. Two centuries of vampirehood and a restored soul had changed him. But now, at least, there was one person who knew what he had been before. Angel had one of the oldest of the diaries in his hands, and was deeply engrossed in the text. Giles had seen him last the night that the Master died. The contrast between the very modern-looking man before him and the boyish novice in a monk's robe was jarring. Angel looked up and met Giles' eyes. "Quite a library." "Yes." Still holding Harriet's diary, Giles stepped out from the stacks to come face-to-face with Angel. "Yet I didn't have the volume that I needed at the time I needed it. I don't believe I ever thanked you for that. I -- I am thanking you now." Angel shrugged. "It was nothing. I... knew that it would be needed." "How did you get it?" Giles kept his voice very deliberate. He needed to know if... he needed to know. Smiling slightly, Angel replaced the manuscript he had been reading. "You gave it to me." Imperceptibly, Giles' shoulders relaxed. "I wasn't sure at first," Angel continued quietly. "But I remembered tales about the dance. And I remembered your voice when you called me here, when you read the Codex and knew Buffy's fate. It was the same as the man who gave it to me two centuries before. A physical resemblance I could understand. But... it was the same man." Giles closed his eyes, remembering. "It was all I could do. As little as it was." The wind outside rustled the trees, wailing slightly in the night. "Do you know what happened to her?" Angel's voice was low and hoarse. "To Deirdre?" Giles shook his head. "I have all the diaries of the Watchers before me, but frankly, they offer little information of use to me. Knowing the past is rarely helpful. My books of lore, of prophesy, are my tools. I skim the diaries for information on specific vampires, should they appear in the Slayer's vicinity, but knowing the lives of previous Slayers is rarely useful." "But you could find out." Giles glanced at the volume in his hand. "Yes. Yes, I could find out. Do you... do you truly want to know?" Angel raised his eyes to meet Giles'. After a very long moment, he shook his head. "No. I don't. It's not... necessary." Angel opened and closed a few books, obviously stalling for time. "I... I want to you know... if you need any help, I want to help you. Help Buffy." "I thought you were going to... refrain from seeing Buffy." "I can't." The words were rough with feeling. Despite himself, Giles smiled ruefully. "That was your answer when I asked you if you were going to see her." Turning to place Harriet's diary on a shelf, he said casually, "I believe she is meeting Willow and Xander at the Bronze for a welcome home party." When he turned back, Angel was gone. ******** "Ugh." Willow shuddered. "I've always hated that story." The Bronze was comfortably familiar. Loud music, lots of people, and Buffy, Willow and Xander seated around a table. Willow and Buffy were sharing a piece of Chocolate Sin cake, with Xander sneaking bites when he thought neither of them were looking. "It's definitely no longer one of my favorites either." Xander shuddered. "And then Pete told the one about the golden arm, and then Josh told one about a chick with an ax and..." "I can see where this is going." Buffy slapped Xander's hand away from the last bite of the chocolate cake. "But they went away, right? When you told a story about a disappearing girl?" "Yeah. Hey, don't look so surprised. I've got a brain." "It even gets used sometimes, too," Buffy said dryly. "I don't want to wear it out," Xander protested. Buffy and Willow looked at each other, and cracked up. "Your dad's okay, though, right?" Willow asked anxiously. "Yeah. He thinks that someone just flipped and he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm just really glad that everything turned out okay." "You know, you could have called me for help," Xander told her in his best suffering-put-upon-male voice. Buffy just rolled her eyes. "So, Will, tell me about this guy Rick. Is he cute?" "Rick? Rick? Who is this? Will..." Xander went into immediate panic mode. Buffy planted her elbows on the table, and propped her chin up, bestowing a beatific smile on her two buds. Behind her, a sixth Slayer sense told her that a vampire was watching her. From Willow's drifting eyes and smiles, and her own intuition, she knew who it was. She didn't have to talk to him tonight. It was enough to know he was there. "What's the grin for?" Xander asked. Buffy slung her arm around him. "It's... just good to be home." ******** "Xander," Willow's exasperated voice sounded from the stacks, "I know that library systems are strange things to you, but even you can put things in numerical order..." Buffy, Willow and Xander were helping Giles restock the library shelves with their dusty volumes of gloom and doom. Bright sunlight shone on the new wooden desk and sent dust motes dancing in the beam. Nikki breezed in, and stopped dead when she saw the three teenagers clustered around the librarian. She blinked, then grinned. "Sorry, even now that I know the deal, it's still weird to see kids in school in the summer. Voluntarily, even." "That's us," Willow said brightly. "Weird." "Besides, summer's almost over," Buffy added, dusting her hands off, and examining the grime under her nails with disgust. "And we have a lot to catch up on," Giles said severely, looking over his glasses at an unconcerned Buffy. "Cool enough," Nikki said. Walking over to one of the stuffed trucks of books, she heaved some up and pitched in. "So, Giles, what's the score in your magic Codex? Does it tell us what happens next?" "I, um, am afraid I don't have it any more," Giles pulled off his glasses and cleaned them. Nikki put the books down with a thump that raised more dust in a shimmering cloud around her. "You don't have it? You *lost* it?" "No!" Giles denied vehemently. "I deemed it necessary to pass it on to someone else. Unfortunately, it is now impossible for me to retrieve it." "So we're flying blind again," Buffy said. She crossed her arms and leaned a hip against the central table. "Should be interesting." "You have no idea," Giles said. He paused and watched as Nikki was dragged into the stacks and a three-way conversation, listening to Willow describe a mathmatics-minded ghost and Xander tell his tale about how telling tales nearly got him and his friends killed. Quietly, Giles said, "I apologize for not being there when you needed me." Buffy smiled a little at him. "Hey, it's okay." "No, it isn't. I'm your Watcher. It is my responsibility and my duty to look out for you." "You're human, Giles." Buffy perched on the table beside where he was standing. "If you could have been there, you would have. And...." Buffy broke off, embarrassed. "What?" Giles asked her. "I'm sorry about the night I ripped into you." She pleated the meager material in her skirt, not meeting his eyes. "You know, when you told me about the prophesy." "When you overheard me telling Angel about the prophesy," Giles interjected. "Yeah, that." Giles fumbled with putting his handkerchief back into his pocket, pushing his glasses up his nose. "There is... there is no need to apologize. You were understandably distraught." Buffy smiled. "Thanks. So you don't need to be sorry and I don't need to be sorry." They sat in meditative silence for a moment, and then Giles said, "There is one thing that puzzles me." "What? Only one thing?" Giles ignored her. "You know, quite a bit less than a year ago, I came here thinking that I would be guiding the Slayer in her destiny. Very simple. Very direct. And that's the last time anything was simple and direct." He paused as Nikki's laugh drifted out to where he and Buffy were. "How we managed to... accumulate, I really don't understand." "Giles just lucky, I guess," Buffy deadpanned, looking at the three emerging from the stacks again, knowing that there was one more that Giles was referring to who was a part of their little circle. She knocked against his shoulder lightly. "All I know... it's better than being alone." Leaning companionably, they watched Nikki and Willow and Xander bicker among themselves about the difference between Willow's ghosts and Xander's monsters. The library doors heaved open, and a dark-haired whirlwind blew in. "Guys!" Cordelia cried. "You are just *not* going to believe what happened to me over the summer!" Xander, Willow and Nikki stopped their argument and turned to look at her. Buffy slid off the table. Giles pushed his glasses up his nose again. As one, they looked at each other, and burst out laughing. THE END, REALLY THE END, FINALLY, COMPLETELY THE END High Priestess Lizbet of the Cult of Joss -~*~- {{>AGA<}} lizbet@primenet.com ~*~ Lizbetann@aol.com ~*~ Keeper of Joss's Evil Brain SunS List Co-Mummy: "If the Apocalypse comes, beep me." ~*~ "You were the brightest light that burned too soon in vain..." Honor Diana's Memory -- Boycott the Tabloids ------------------------------ Date: Sun, 7 Sep 1997 18:49:21 -0400 From: Jesse Jou <jjou@mail.med.cornell.edu> Subject: BUFFYFIC: Gone 3: The God of Nine Walls 6/? by JJ Here's the next part. *Please* read the warning. I consider this part extremely violent, but necessarily so in order to convey the magnitude of the evil the characters face. (I don't know, some of you may disagree.) Please consider yourself warned. I need to know if this "works" in terms of eliciting a particular response. Again, all feedback is greatly welcomed and appreciated. Thanks! JJ Title: Gone 3: The God of Nine Walls Author: JJ email address: jjou@mail.med.cornell.edu Distribution: With permission of the author Spoiler Warning: No spoilers for any real episode Rating: R for Violence, PG-13 for everything else. Warnings: THIS PORTION IS EXTREMELY VIOLENT. Classification: UTB Summary: Both Anya's Gone... and my Gone II can be found on the Slayer's Fanfic Archive. I would recommend reading the previous stories, but 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 6 Ten minutes before Willow collapsed, a clown in a bright, multicolored, checkered costume, wearing a porcelain mask twisted in a mocking grimace, back-flipped rapidly down the dark electric tunnel, clutching his bloody prize and trailing the tinkle of the tiny bells and maniacal laughter behind him. A surge of vampires pushed after him, trying to catch the acrobat before he escaped the tunnels. It was still daylight outside, and the walls were getting lighter as they came closer and closer to the surface. With a cartwheel, he disappeared around a sharp corner and the vampires followed, stunned when they realized that they had reached the entrance, tall and forbidding. The tunnel emptied out onto a concrete basin above ground, long unused by the humans. The sharp afternoon light contrasted with the orange-tinged darkness of the surrounding walls. They stopped en masse at the tunnel's mouth, not daring to venture into the light. There was an unobstructed view for miles and Scapino, the Prince of the Autopsy, was nowhere to be seen. He had vanished. The little vampire at the back of the pack pushed his way to the front. Some of the younger vampires averted their eyes at his mutilation. The Anointed One was furious, surveying the vista. The Prince had caught him unawares in the Master's throne room and had cut off his face before his protectors could reach him. In the indirect light, the red muscles and tendons of his little boy's face were grotesquely emphasized, clumps of skin still sticking to the meat. "Where did he go?" he demanded to the vampires in the front. They shook their heads and shrugged. Suddenly from above there was a jackal-like laugh as the assemblage looked up to see Scapino, pressed flat against the ceiling. He swooped down, kicking the Anointed several yards forward into the sunlight and flipping out after him, landing en pointe beside the little body sprawled on the ground outside. The Anointed One's first reaction was to throw his hands up against the burning sunlight, screaming at the top of his young voice. He scrambled to his feet to run towards the safety of the tunnel entrance, the other vampires holding out their arms to him and shouting, but Scapino tripped him, grabbing his ankles as he dragged the Master Vampire further away from the protection of his compatriots. The other vampires stood in shock at the tunnel's entrance, none willing to rush into certain destruction to save him. Their leader's short arms burst into flames and flailed about wildly. As the sun destroyed the Anointed One, the Prince of the Autopsy danced a happy jig, holding up the child's face like a mask over his own, slashing his scalpel through the air like a sword. Finally, the charred body stopped twitching and slowly decomposed into ash. The vampires in the tunnel who were the Anointed's direct progeny felt his death like a sharp knife through their spines, wailing inconsolably at his loss. With a perverse giggle, Scapino shoved his trophy into the pouch by his side, waved at the horrified vampires, and ran quickly away. - --- "It's a barbaric practice," she concluded, looking at Xander while folding up the morning Gazette. "Sending exceptional young women to their deaths." Xander had sat there for ten minutes, watching as she editorialized while reading about the gruesome death of the young woman the night before. "I'm sorry. Do I know you?" Xander finally asked. "This girl, you knew she was the Slayer?" Hecate said, pointing at the picture with the article. Xander nodded. He had met her once; Giles had insisted that Xander offer his help to her and her Watcher should they ever need it. She was bright and articulate and Xander had been shocked to hear that she was dead. "It will take them a few days to find the next one. We should have plenty of time to do what we must to stop what killed her predecessor," Hecate continued. "What killed her?" Xander asked, carefully, not certain whether the woman could be trusted. "The God of Nine Walls," she answered simply. "Or more specifically, his agent." "I've never heard of..." he began. "Willow Rosenberg is staying at your house right now, isn't she?" Hecate interrupted. "She gave you something. I want it." Xander flashed on the necklace in his jacket pocket. "What does Willow have to do with this?" "Just give it to me. Please," the goddess said, holding out her hand. "I can feel it on you." Xander suddenly raged, "Why can't you people leave her alone? Haven't you done enough to her?" Hecate's eyes flashed. "You stupid little boy, I certainly haven't done anything to her! She stole the necklace from me. And I want it back. Now." "She said she found it," Xander said. "Then she lied," Hecate answered, calmly. Xander met her gaze fearlessly. With a sigh, she reached into her hand bag and pulled out a small wax figure, the strands of Xander's hair that Gilda Rosenberg had procured embedded within it. She held it up. "I think you can probably guess what this is, seeing as how you're an anthropology professor," she stated. "I regret having to coerce you in this instance, but the stakes are too high for subtlety on my part." "You don't seriously think that will work?" he asked incredulously, then shouted "Ouch!" as she gently shoved a pin through the doll's shoulder. "You'd be surprised at what I can make work," she said, smiling sweetly. "If I give you the necklace, will you leave us alone?" Xander demanded. She looked at him compassionately. "You really believe that she came back here for you, don't you?" When he didn't answer, she answered, "Yes. If you give me the necklace, I will not interfere with you. I swear it by whatever oath you will believe. However, I cannot guarantee that she will not try to interfere with me." "All we want is a chance to be together," he said, reaching into his pocket and extracting the small plastic bag that held the object they had fought over. He held it out cautiously to her and she took it, checking to verify that it was indeed what she wanted. Smiling, she stuck it into her purse and made to leave. "Leave the doll," Xander asked. She looked at him absentmindedly. "Oh. Sure." She tossed it onto his desk. "Consider it a gesture of good faith." She walked to the door and turned to face him, "I can see why she loves you. I think under different circumstances, we could have been friends. Can I give you some advice? It's freely given and well-meant." "Yeah, sure," he said sarcastically, rolling the pain out of his shoulder. "Don't push it, kid," she said tartly, then continued, "Women like Willow are ours only for a short time. They exist to serve a higher purpose and cannot escape their responsibilities despite the wishes of their hearts. Like the girl who died last night. I wish you two could live out a mortal lifetime together, but somehow I see this whole thing ending badly for everyone involved. If I were you, I would get you both as far away from Sunnydale as possible." She closed the door behind her, leaving Xander with his thoughts. Had Willow lied to him? Who was the woman who just left? What was the God of the Nine Walls and was he a threat? Whatever the answers, Xander recognized the wisdom in Hecate's parting words. He would discuss leaving when he saw Willow this afternoon. His ruminations were interrupted when the door popped open. Hecate stuck her head back in. "By the way, you wouldn't happen to know where I could find a vampire named..." She looked at a slip of paper in her hand, "Angle?" - --- Mayor Snyder entered the washroom of Town Hall. Two terms as Sunnydale's mayor had been enormously fulfilling, expanding his desire for order from the school to the town as a whole. Not a day passed where he didn't recognize the irony that his new office was located almost exactly where his old one had stood. But in the eight years since the high school burned down, he had reduced the crime rate by 75%, increased revenue for education by 20%, and improved the general quality of life in Sunnydale immeasurably. Now the gruesome murder of the teenage girl had provoked an immediate and vociferous reaction from the older Sunnydalians who remembered some of the ugliness that preceded his reign. He sighed. There was nothing to be done if some drifter came through town and killed one of its citizens, but a few calls to Chief Benedict of SPD would probably yield a few of the local "usual suspects." It would be enough to quell the public outcry. As he washed his hands, he heard the distinct flow of liquid somewhere in the room. Had someone left a faucet running? He looked at the adjacent sinks. No, none of them were on. He listened carefully and noted that the sound was coming from one of the stalls. He checked under the stalls. They were all unoccupied. He stepped from door to door listening for the source of the sound, which was growing progressively louder. He reached the last door and saw a thick red liquid spreading on the ground. "What the...?" he began, pushing the door open. He covered his mouth at what he found. In the toilet was a human head, its face removed, dead eyes staring up at him. Overflowing the sides of the bowl was blood, coming heavily now. He had seen enough of it during his tenure as a high school principal to recognize it. He struggled to keep from screaming and vomiting at the same time and rushed out of the restroom. In the crawlspace above, the Prince of the Autopsy watched the Mayor flee, then giggled as he dragged the headless body of the Chief of Police into the darkness. - ---- End Part 6 ------------------------------ End of buffyfic Digest V1 #29 ***************************** To subscribe to buffyfic Digest, send the command: subscribe buffyfic-digest in the body of a message to "majordomo@xmission.com". 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