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buffyfic Digest      Wednesday, October 15 1997      Volume 01 : Number 040



In this issue:

    Re: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (4/6)
    BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (3A/6)
    BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (5a/6)
    BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (5b/6)

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

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

Date: Tue, 14 Oct 1997 02:32:22 +0100
From: [e-mail]
Subject: Re: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (4/6)

I seem to be missing part 3 and 5 of this story. Did they not get sent
out or is it just my mailing service. Thanks in advance.

       Northcat-GASPer, keeper of Giles' office

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

Date: Wed, 15 Oct 1997 03:39:47, -0500
From: [e-mail] (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (3A/6)

 See part 1 for disclaimers. Comments welcomed at [e-mail]

"Shadow of an Apocalypse" (3a/6)
by Christina Kamnikar
copyright 1997

         The sun had almost set by the time I got to the high school and
parked my car in the teacher's lot. There were only one or two other cars
there, including Rupert's junker. Not that mine's much better; neither of
us can afford the kinds of cars most of our students drive---bought and
paid for by their parents. I hurried inside, wondering what could be
scary enough to force Snobby to admit that he needed 'back up', and hoping
it was just the deaths of four students in the school. Praying it wasn't
anything more.

         I got my first shock of the night when I entered the library.
Sunnydale's mild-mannered but acid-tongued librarian had opened the
locked storage area where older books were usually kept and was busily
extracting weapons from a cabinet I hadn't ever noticed before. "Rupert?"
He turned to me with an enquiring expression, a glittering steel dagger in
one hand, a handful of ninja throwing stars in the other. I gulped, feeling
my eyes widen. "Are you arming for an invasion? Should I have brought my
brass knuckles?" I picked up a knife, curved and deadly-looking, that he'd
placed on one of the reading tables. "I mean, did you confiscate these from
students, or what?"

         "Not precisely." He smiled thinly, adding the stars and dagger to
the collection growing in the main library. His disheveled appearance
from the day before had been smoothed as if it never existed, his cuffs
buttoned, tie in place; only the deep weariness around his eyes hinted at
any mental upset. "I've had these for quite some time---they're part of
an extensive collection. They may be necessary in facing what's to come."

         I carefully replaced the knife, trepidation getting a claw-hold
in my stomach again. "You said you were going to explain what's going on.
Does it include a good reason for what happened this morning?"

        "Yes. You deserve to know what's going on, and if the worst
occurs, someone else should be prepared for the consequences." He didn't
look at me, and instead went back to rummaging in the weapons locker as he
spoke, selecting one weapon, discarding another, bringing some back to the
small display on the table. His voice remained even and calm as he began to
lecture on what was obviously a very familiar subject. He didn't
sound as if he particularly cared if I believed his explanation or not;
and it struck me that for Rupert, things like other people's opinions had
ceased to matter a long time ago. You couldn't say what he was saying as
coolly as he was without having come to terms with what most people's
reactions would be. //Either that, or he *does* trust you. And is more
desperate than you thought.//

         "I expect you're aware that Sunnydale has a long history as a
center of paranormal activity?"

         "It's come up in a couple conversations," I said cautiously. "My
friend Cami mentioned some Spanish superstitions when I moved here; and
I've got a few friends who've mentioned that this whole area of the coast
seems to be jinxed...." It had actually seemed like a plus, back then. A
chance to come in contact with concrete magic. Now, though, I realized I
should have done more research before I accepted the position as Sunnydale
High's comp sci teacher.

        "Cursed may be more accurate," Rupert said, stringing a crossbow
and testing the sights. "'Boca del Infierno' was the Spanish name.
'Hellmouth' in English; rather more daunting in the original
language...." He replaced the crossbow and began examining a set of
stilettos, sliding them out of their scabbards and checking them for
who-knew-what; rust? Sharpness? A sense of surreality hit me as I watched
Snobby competently and fearlessly mess with some very nasty weapons. //I
would have thought he'd hate this sort of thing....// "In any event, the
upshot is the same: we are living on one of the dimensional gates to the
demonic plane."


         "Whoa. Wait a minute. Back up a bit." I leaned forward, catching
his gaze as he placed some of the curved daggers on the table, picking up
the throwing stars and carrying them back to the collection. "Are you
saying that *Sunnydale* is like... Angkor Wat? Stonehenge? Atlantis?" I
sat down on one of the chairs, some of the weirdness of the last months
falling into place. "A focus point for paranormal energy? One of the places
in the world where you can move from--- world to world..." My voice trailed
off as I considered the implications, shivering. //The site for the Last
Battle?// And I'd been so hyped about getting a job within driving distance
of San Francisco.


         "Specifically, the Hellmouth opens from our world to the first
worlds of demons," Rupert was saying, his mouth tightening as he studied
me; probably for signs of disbelief. His voice dropped as he went on.
"Such portals are usually sealed, of course; their permanent opening would
leave our world very vulnerable to... a great many things. But they can't
be contained completely; they leak magic into our world as a matter of
course. An area around a Hellmouth  *will* attract the kinds of energy you
mentioned---much of it very negative." He sighed, very softly, so softly
I almost didn't catch it, then went on in a brisker tone. "Approximately
sixty years ago, an attempt was made to open the Hellmouth."

         "Who would be crazy enough to do that?" I asked, swallowing hard,
disbelief making my voice rise.

         "A vampire king."

         I stared at Rupert; he stared back, eminently sane, utterly
British, waiting for me to protest, clear grey eyes evaluating my mental
state while I tried to grasp the impossible. I opened my mouth; closed
it. Picked up one of the little daggers and thought for a few seconds, my
fingers shaking. "Okay," I murmured, nodding, not doubting him, even
though every self-preservation instinct I had was screaming at me to get
the hell out of there. "Okay." I put the dagger down, thinking of the kids
in the A/V room. The urge to say "there are no vampires" came and went.
Giles has a sense of humor, but it's not that sick.  If he said there was a
vampire king, there was a vampire king.

         I felt queasy, terrified, and vaguely silly; every movie cliche'
I'd ever happily giggled over came back to me now with horror-tinged
clarity. Somehow, I'd never taken my acceptance of the reality of Power
into that dark an alley. But if there's Light in the world---and I know
there is---there has to be Dark, doesn't there? I suddenly saw how naive
I'd been, to never realize what that really meant before. //Someone has
to fight the Dark. Here. Now.// Rupert was getting ready to do just that.
In a couple minutes, I was going to have to ask him how I could help....


         Taking a deep breath, I asked, "What has this got to do with the
kids who were killed this morning?"

         "A great deal, unfortunately." A thread of pain wound through the
matter-of-factness in his voice. Everything about Rupert was stretched
taut, I realized; his voice, his movements, every muscle in his
body---all seemed to be conserving energy for the fight to come. Whatever
fight that was. "The Master, as he is called, has been trapped in the
Hellmouth itself since the attempt he made in 1939--there was an earthquake
that interrupted his spellcasting, and he was unable to free himself. The
prophesied end to his imprisonment is approaching, and as the spell holding
him weakens, more and more of his brethren have been gathering in
Sunnydale. Thus... the attack, last night, upon the students who were
here."


         The impersonal tone he'd been trying to affect slipped at the end
of this speech, the previous ache palpable in his voice again; I thought
of Willow, finding the bodies of her friends, and flinched away from the
image as Rupert continued speaking. "If he succeeds in freeing himself, he
will complete the incantation, and the Hellmouth will open. Leaving our
world open to all the denizens of the demonic plane."

         "Goddess." I laced my fingers together, putting my head down on
them and trying to think while Snobby made a few moves with a long axe,
then thoughtfully returned it to the locker. I put what Rupert had told
me together with what little I knew of Brother Luca's prophecies, and had a
clearer picture about what we were up against. Panic hovered at the edges
of my mind, and I told it to go away until after I was done grilling
Rupert; it scuttled off for a bit, but not to where I couldn't see it
hanging around still. I let my hands drop down from my face, and glared
at Snobby. "Assuming that I can keep all this straight---and that it makes
sense in the first place---how the _hell_ did you find all this out
before I even had a clue?"

         "Ah." He had the grace to look guilty, I'll give him that. "We
come to the more difficult part of the explanation now, I'm afraid. More
difficult to believe, I mean...." He looked appealingly at me, possibly
for a reprieve, but I just rolled my eyes.

         "I can't imagine how, Rupert. We've covered Hellmouths, vampire
kings, and prophecy fulfillment in the last five minutes, what can
*possibly* out-weird what you've told me so far?"

         "Good point."

         "You're stalling," I accused him.

         "You're absolutely correct." He took off his glasses, polished
them  with a handkerchief, put them back on, then determinedly forged on,
watching my face the whole time, for --- what? Panic? Laughter? I
realized we were getting to the part that actually impacted us just before
Snobby finally confessed all. "My family has been interested... no,
involved, in the occult, for generations.  It's a long tradition, most of
it concerned with vampires, and vampire watching... That's... what I am. A
Watcher." I could hear the capital letter he put on the word, the emphasis
he gave it, and understood that that was how he thought of himself: not as
a librarian, or a teacher, or a historian, but a Watcher. "We have records
dating back centuries; copies of the prophecies, predictions, dates... et
cetera. All indications are that the Master will be freed tonight, through
the actions of a vampire known as the Anointed One."

         "You've spent your whole life watching vampires?" I was beginning
to feel punchy again, perception fighting reality and losing badly, the
more Rupert told me about himself. I had a sudden image of Snobby noting
down the flight habits of the North Californian Blood-Sucking Vampire in
little book, with binoculars around his neck. I shook my head, wishing
I'd gotten more sleep that morning.

         "Well... no. Not my entire life. And not vampires, really." He
seemed embarassed, and adjusted his glasses again, glancing away from me.
"Actually, I've been priviledged to be the teacher, and Watcher, of the
Slayer."

*

Continued in part 3b

Comments to [e-mail]         Christina       }|{

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

Date: Wed, 15 Oct 1997 03:41:18, -0500
From: [e-mail] (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (5a/6)

Disclaimers in part 1. Comments! I love 'em! Send to [e-mail]

"Shadow of an Apocalypse" (5/6)
by Christina Kamnikar
copyright 1997

         I made myself coffee from some instant junk which Rupert had
lying in the bottom drawer of his file cabinets, while he combed through
the back stacks for reference material he needed.  Giles had fixed some tea
and thrown back several aspirin a few minutes before; he still didn't
appear to be in great shape, but it wasn't bad enough to stop him. I'm not
sure how bad it _would_ have had to be, to force him to quit searching for
a way out at that point.

         Willow had slumped into one of the chairs immediately after
Xander left, looking shocky and numb. Maybe she was still thinking about
what she'd found that morning---or maybe she was worrying about her
friends, out there facing monsters and dire predictions. I left her alone
to try to cope, unsure whether she would welcome an intrusion on her
thoughts, and drank my caffeine with a grimace, knowing I would need it
even though it made me long for something decent. //We might be facing an
all-nighter here. Who knows how long it'll take us to find a spell powerful
enough to close a Hellmouth.// If we even could. I frowned as Rupert
descended the steps, thinking hard as he spoke to me.


         "The Master is as old as any vampire on record. There's no
telling how powerful he'll be if he reaches the surface." Rupert's arms
were piled high with old leather-bound books, thick and weighty enough to
squash small plants--- or at least intimidate them. I was too far into my
new idea to really notice at that moment.

         "Okay, here's my question. The Hellmouth opens...." I mused
aloud, following my train of thought to what I realized was a vital concern.

         "Yes?" Rupert asked, prompting me.

         I turned around, gesturing with my coffee cup. "Where? If he's
 underground and it opens right where he is, where is it going to open?"

         "Good point." The Brit looked thoughtful, his eyes unfocusing for
a moment before he came back to the present. "Well, you should look through
the back Chronicles---" He handed me one of the heavy doomsday books, and
I hefted it with mild annoyance. Of *course* it hadn't been scanned into
the computer a month ago; it was part of his private collection. //If we
live through this, Snobby, this is going onto a disk...// "Willow.
Willow?" Giles repeated, catching the girl's eye.

         "Hunh?" Willow blinked at him, still appearing stunned, clearly
not paying attention to our conversation.

         "Could you look through the local histories, please. Check for
any common denominators, locations of incidences and such." Giles' stutter
faded in and out as he spoke, seeming preoccupied with his research and
unaware of Willow's emotional state.

         "Right, okay," she nodded obediently and stood up, going over to
the computer behind the returns desk.

         "She ought to be at home," I said in a low voice, settling into
one of the uncomfortable reading chairs and propping my feet up on another.
"Where it's safe."

         "I know," Rupert responded quietly, looking over his glasses at
Willow. "And I would agree. But it is her choice... and we shouldn't deny
her the opportunity to support her friends. She wants to be here, and she
wants to help. Perhaps it will be of help to her, to be able to do
something," he murmured softly, turning the pages of a Latin spellbook.

         "All right. I suppose," I mumbled, trying to find the Index in my
volume. "But if she looks like she's getting shaky again, I'm taking her
home."

         "Very well. I don't believe she'll need it, though. Willow is a
very loyal person. And much stronger than she looks," Giles said gently,
already absorbed in his research.

         I studied him for a second, then started scanning the Chronicle.
Incredible amounts of information about vampires were contained in its
pages, much of it going back to 1910, when another earthquake and vampire
infestation had hit Sunnydale. Some of it was terrifying, some of it
borderline unbelievable; all of it would have made best-selling horror
fiction. //Except it's real, Nik. It's all real, it's here, and you have
to find a clue, some clue about how to make it all go *away*....// I
thumbed through pages and pages of entries, finding a few references that
looked promising, but none of them were specific enough when I kept
reading. //What kind of person writes all this stuff down, but doesn't have
any notes on how to disperse the enemy? I can't believe they were all just
 depending on Slayers all these years!//

         Except it worked. Entry after entry detailed Slayer kills, their
abilities, and how they executed legions of the undead and emerged
unscathed. Most of the time. Much of the time. But... it was plain, very,
very plain, even from a small smattering of reading, that Slayers did not
die of natural causes.

         Someday, Buffy would be one of these entries. She would make a
mistake, be a little too slow, suddenly get overwhelmed by numbers; and
then she would merely be one of many. One of the former Slayers. A
deceased Slayer.

         Rupert had to know this.

         I stared at the pages of the book unseeingly, turning that fact
over in my mind. It was inevitable that Buffy would die in the line of
duty. Even if we saved her tonight (which was becoming increasingly
unlikely as time passed) there would come a day when all her luck and
skill couldn't save her. How had Giles come to terms with that? How did he
cope with the knowledge that someone he cared about---cared about a great
deal, if I was any judge---was going to die a violent death, probably too
young to have even had a life?  Did he just hope he wouldn't be alive to
see it, that she'd outlive him? Or was he that devoted to his principles,
that he could accept that there would be another Slayer, someday?

         //Probably neither. He was willing to face the Master for her
tonight. 'I defy prophecy.'// I closed my eyes for a second, overwhelmed.
//Maybe he's just willing to go to any lengths to protect her, and that
allows him to keep going.// And maybe that was the only way to face the
Dark. To not surrender one inch, one hour, or one breath to it---and
maybe gain back some ground that way. I opened my eyes and covertly studied
Giles, who was still poring over a tome more frightening than the one I
was stuck with.

         'Snobby', as I'd originally perceived him to be, wouldn't have
been willing to fight hard for anything. I'd thought he was a close-minded,
cold, unfeeling, convention-bound elitist. After the Moloch incident, I'd
known that he was nowhere near as conventional or unfeeling as he first
appeared.  But I still wouldn't have dreamed that he would be capable of
conceiving of facing a vampire king alone. That kind of imagination and
guts was pretty damn rare.

         //The only way that nickname fits him now is in describing his
accent,// I thought ironically. //And let's face it, you *really* like
the accent....//

         I pulled my wandering thoughts back onto the Chronicles,
unwilling to take _that_ thought any further in our current situation. We
spent the  next twenty minutes like that, until I gave up and pushed the
book aside. "There's nothing in there that'll help.... Rupert, have we got
_any_ clue  about what to do if the Master rises?"

         "Somewhat. There are ceremonies for closing portals, and killing
demons-- although none of them are simple or painless," the Brit said in
t ight voice. He rubbed his temples, then took off his glasses, squinting
in the low light of the library book lamps.  "Let's think about this... The
vampires have been gathering, they know he is coming, they will be his army...."

         "You think they'll gather at the Hellmouth?" I asked, starting to
get hopeful, wondering how we could track vampires. //Verrrry carefully,
Jenny.//

         "The last time the Master tried to rise was during the Harvest,"
Willow piped up, joining us at the library table, looking much less
shocky than she had twenty minutes before. //Points to Snobby... Rupert.
No, Giles, damnit. He was right, she needed to have something to do. I'm
glad he wasn't wrong.// "He sent a bunch of vampires to get him fresh
blood," the teen continued.

         I glanced from Willow to Giles. "Where did that go down?"

         Giles looked stunned, and put his glasses back on as he answered
me. "The Bronze---"

         Willow's eyes widened in the realization that had hit the Watcher
and me at the same time: that the coffee bar would be full of potential
victims tonight, despite the morning's tragedy.  They hadn't had time to
call it off... "The Prom!"

         "We have to warn them," the Brit said urgently, starting to rise.

         "No, we'll go. You have to concentrate on demon killing," I said
firmly, pushing him back into his chair and grabbing my purse and car
keys. How we were going to get them out of the Bronze was another
question--- claim a bomb threat? Contagious virus? I turned to go,
gesturing to Willow to join me, knowing I couldn't do it alone even if I
wanted to. "My car's in the lot."

      "Stay close together, and for goodness sake be careful!" Giles
called after us.

         "We will," Willow told him reassuringly as we left the library,
sounding very serious and adult. It reminded me of Xander, and Buffy
before him.

         That was the last quiet, sane second I had. Right there....

         We got to the parking lot, Willow jittery, me nervous and
hurrying, fumbling with my keys and praying that I could speed across town
without running into any cops, when Willow spoke up. "What if they get to
the Bronze before we do?" she asked anxiously, her voice high and worried.

         I looked up from trying to find my keys and came to a dead stop.
 "Don't need to worry about that." My voice sounded very even and cool to
my own ears, just as my pulse started trip-hammering.

       "Why not?" Willow bumped into me, and I instinctively put my arm
out to shield her.

       I could hear her quick intake of breath even as I said, "'Cause
 they're not going to the Bronze."

         Dozens of shambling, grotesque figures were coming out of the
fog. I swallowed hard, finally seeing vampires for the first time: feral
eyes, animalistic faces, and an air of.... evil. The fog seemed to bring a
smell of decay with it, trying to seep into my clothes, forcing me to
breathe through my mouth. I can't describe it; but I wanted to run. I
wanted to *flee*, get the hell out of there... they weren't funny, they
weren't unbelievable, they were gut-numbingly awful, and _wrong_. Things
that shouldn't exist. Willow and I turned to run, and damnit, there were
*more* of the ugly suckers, coming around behind us.

       "Why are they coming here?" I asked, trying to grasp how this could
be happening without any warning at all---

       "Not caring!" Willow's voice was rising in panic, and then we heard
the screech of car tires. I whirled around to see Cordelia Chase's BMW
pull up nearly on top of me.

         "Get in!"  Cordelia shouted, and we rushed into the car, opening
doors while she was talking to us, high and fast.  Maybe she'd had her
learner's permit revoked twice already, but I was never so glad for an
offered ride in my life. "I was sitting where Kevin and I used to park,
and all of a sudden these *things* are coming at me!"

         Willow had just slammed her door shut, when one of the "things"
stuck its head down over the windshield. All three of us screamed in
surprise and fright, and I gulped in big breaths of air, feeling my heart
pound.  "What do we do now?" I yelled at Willow, hoping she had some
idea. Goddess knew, I didn't. Not one. I was too busy trying not to panic.

         "We have to get to the library!" Willow responded, still keeping
her head better than I was.

*

Continued in part 5b            Comments welcomed at [e-mail]
Christina       }|{

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

Date: Wed, 15 Oct 1997 03:44:29, -0500
From: [e-mail] (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (5b/6)

See part 1 for disclaimers. Comments appreciated at [e-mail].

"Shadow of an Apocalypse" (5b/6)
by Christina Kamnikar
copyright 1997


         Cordelia's eyes narrowed scarily in fury and concentration.
"Library, great!" She floored the accelerator, veering around the
parking lot and dislodging the hitchhiking monster on the roof--- then
headed straight for the school doors, showing a fine disregard for
school property that she usually reserved for the feelings of the nerdier
students around her. Vampires scattered as she gained speed, not wanting to
test their immortality, I supposed.

       "Of course, we generally walk there..." Willow observed in a
quavery voice as I clutched onto the dashboard.

         The car smashed through two sets of doors, splintering wood and
metal not slowing the BMW one whit, then zoomed down the hall to come to
a squealing halt in front of the library doors. The three of us piled out
rapidly, the monsters still at our heels as we slammed the doors to the
library shut. Cordelia and Willow gave involuntary screams as the
vampires started pushing at the doors---and, well, maybe I couldn't stop
myself from yelling a little too.

          "What's happening!" Giles asked in alarm, getting to his feet as
we tried to keep the monsters out.

        "Guess!" I screamed back at him over the growls of the attacking
monsters and the screams of the other two.

         Giles rushed to push the Xerox machine in front of the door,
while Willow used the "Quiet Please" sign to bash the fingers of the
encroaching vampires. Cordelia and I pushed bookshelves across the doorway.
The Brit stuck the sign through the handles of the door then yelled, "Why
are they coming *here*?"

         I didn't respond, since I still didn't have an answer for that
one. There had to be a reason, but whatever it was, we had bigger problems.
"Hurry, hurry, hurry---" I muttered as we tried to strenghten the barricade.

         Some noise distracted the librarian, and he pointed toward the
far wall. "They're coming in through the stacks!"

         "The bookshelves!" Willow shouted, and the two of us raced across
the room to push the empty shelves in front of the back windows. I could
see the faces of grinning, snarling vampires through the glass and
shuddered, trying to get the barriers in place before any of the windows
were broken.

         An aghast exclamation of "My office!" grabbed my attention for a
second, and I turned to see Giles run into his private den to bar the
windows in there. A loud <<crash>> against the front entrance distracted
me, in time to see an arm snake through the window and grab Cordelia.

         "Somebody help!" she screamed, dark eyes wide with terror and
panic as she pushed her whole weight against the rattling barrier.

         But Willow's and my shelves were shaking too, as the vampires
punched through the windows and tried to dislodge our protection. Besides
that, I'd realized with sinking dread that we were doomed. //We're gonna
die. In horror movies, they wait the monsters out until sunrise---but
that's hours and hours and hours away. We're gonna die.// Giles hadn't had
time to find any spells; we wouldn't be able to find the Hellmouth and
close it; the puny weapons that we had with us in the library weren't
going to be enough to hold off an army... //Oh, Goddess. Help. Someone, help....//


         Neither of the girls had realized how bad our dilemma was yet.
Cordelia was turning and actually sank her teeth into the arm holding
her, eliciting a howl from the monster that didn't drown out her angry
comment of "See how *you* like it!"

         Yelling, "This won't keep them out for long!", Willow pushed her
body back against the bookshelves as I exerted all my strength trying to
keep them in place. //We don't have a spell. Or a plan. Or any weapons,
really. We're toast. But I can't tell her that---// I wanted to cry. I
wanted a miracle.

         Willow let out a high, terrified shriek and then started to fall
forward. A slimy gray tentacle, leading down into the main crack caused
by the earthquake, was wrapped around her ankle---and it was pulling. I
grabbed her, trying to help her keep her balance, and the thing yanked
again, pulling us both to the floor with its unexpected strength.

         "Giles! GILES!" I yelled, trying to keep a grip on Willow---

         With a sound like an exploding drum, the rest of the monster
blossomed out of the crevace, shrieking and gurgling as it rose.
Three-headed, huge, snaky, wormy, gray, disgusting---and laughing at us
with a mouthful of sharp, pointy teeth. "The Hellmouth..." I heard Giles
gasp. //Oh, that would be why....// flashed through my mind, but I didn't
even bother following up the realization, digging my fingers into the
girl's arms as she screamed and the demon tried to pull us closer.
"Giles!!" I was screeching by now. Out of the corner of my vision I saw
Giles grab an axe from the table and rush to help us. Willow couldn't
stop screaming; she was twisting and struggling to get away from the awful
thing as I grimly held onto her, desperately attempting to keep it from
dragging her into the crevace. "GILES!"  //God, Goddess, we're going to die---//

         Giles raised the axe and landed a harsh >thwack< on the monster's
chortling head, his face contorted with the effort, then pulled it out
and landed another blow as I tried to get Willow free.  My throat was sore
from screaming, Willow was whimpering and shrieking, and I concentrated on
just hanging on, trying not to let go of her.... The Hell Hound whipped
around, shooting its tentacles toward Giles, and threw him half-way across
the room into one of the reading tables. He landed with enough force to
splinter the table, and one head hovered menacingly above him as another
gurgled inches from me and Willow. //Giles...//  Sick and despairing, I
felt the monster start to inch Willow closer across the carpet. //Is Giles
okay, no, no, this isn't the way it's supposed to happen, I don't want to
die, oh Goddess please NO//

         A shattering crash came from above as the skylight shattered, and
a body fell down through it onto the ruined remains of the overturned table
and impaled itself. It was a vampire, hideous, dressed in black leather;
and it almost immediately began to dissolve as the vampire's continued
screams tapered off, blood-red dust rising from the corpse to reveal the
bone underneath. The Hound gave one last almighty howl and let go of Willow
before sliding across the floor, disappearing back down into the crevace.

         Gasping, I looked up and saw Buffy looking back through the broken
skylight. She smiled triumphantly downward for a second, then disappeared
from view.

         "It's gone?" Willow whispered, and I nodded, unable to speak. "Yay...."

         "Yay," I echoed, hugging her, and she smiled in incandescent
relief and hugged me back before carefully sitting up. I noticed that the
sounds of the vampires trying to get in had stopped, and the shelves were
no longer rattling. //Guess the Army of Darkness had better things to do
than hang around here....//

         "Is everyone all right?" I turned over, propping my arms up on my
elbows and resting my chin on my hands. Smiling giddily, I met Rupert's
eyes with unalloyed relief. "Are you both unhurt?" he asked urgently,
leaning against the stairway rail, his eyes darting from Willow to me and back.

         "We're fine, Giles. Are you okay? It looked like you landed
pretty hard," Willow said, climbing to her feet and brushing dust off her
tights.

         "Shaken, but no broken bones," Giles said, his own smile
escaping.

         "That was the *ickiest* thing I have _ever_ seen," Cordelia
declared from the doorway, where she was slumped bonelessly against the
shelves and Xerox machine. "Where did it go? It's not coming back, is it?"

         "Back where it came from. And no, I wouldn't think it would be
returning," Giles answered, adjusting his glasses. "Did you see, on the roof---"

         "Buffy? Yeah." I grinned wider, and Willow's eyes lit up.
Everything about Giles had loosened for perhaps the first time that night.
I knew how he felt; my own muscles felt like they'd uncoiled into Silly
Putty when I saw the Slayer above me through the skylight.

         "She's okay? *Cool*!" Willow bounced down the stairs toward the
door, and started helping Cordelia move the furniture.

         "Can I have hysterics now?" I asked Giles.

         "No. I get to have them first," he replied firmly, helping me to
my feet.

         "Spoilsport."

         A few minutes later a bruised but very alive Buffy, her hair
mussed, claw marks across her chest, entered the library. Xander and
another, dark-haired older kid, maybe about nineteen or twenty, came in
with her, both of them appearing unharmed. Cordelia was straightening up
the last of the door barricade as they walked in, and Willow and I
finished moving the shelves and joined Giles in the middle of the library,
next to the corpse of the vampire who had to have been the Master.

         "The vampires?" Giles asked in concern, looking from Xander to
Buffy, his eyes still not completely free of worry.

         Cordelia shrugged, looking mystified. "Gone.

         "The Master?" The stranger asked, obviously someone else who  knew
all about Slayers and vampires and prophecies. He was handsome in a
clear-cut way, and I guessed that Xander had called him in to help when
he went after Buffy.

       "Dead. The Hellmouth is closed," Giles answered him, then turned to
the slender figure in white staring at the vampire's skeleton. "Buffy?
Buffy?" He asked in concern.

         Buffy blinked, coming out of her hypnotized study of the Master,
looking a little ragged around the edges. "Oh, sorry. It's just... been a
really weird day," she said shakily, tears shimmering in her eyes. Whatever
she had gone through had done more than just mess her hair up; but she
seemed to be more exhausted than hurt, and her smile was unforced relief.

        "Yeah, Buffy died and everything," Xander commented nonchalantly.
Now that the danger was past, I could tell that he was going to enjoy
re-hashing the details, probably already forgetting whatever terrors he
and Buffy and their friend had been through.

         "Wow. Harsh," Willow responded, impressed.

         Giles's voice was husky with emotion. "I should have known that
wouldn't stop you," he said, sounding relieved, proud, happy, rueful and
exhausted. Buffy smiled affectionately at him, no doubt hearing all the
things he wasn't saying and seeing them in his barely-suppressed grin.

         "Well, what do we do now?" Cordelia asked, looking around at all
of us expectantly.

         "I don't know about the rest of you, but I want to get out of
this place. I don't like the library very much any more," Giles said
gruffly, British understatement coming to the fore again.

       "Hey, I hear there's a dance at the Bronze," Xander pointed out. I
stifled a chuckle, remembering that I was supposed to be chaperoning, and
checked my watch. //8:30?? That nightmare felt like forever, and it's
only 8:30? Guess Principal Snyder won't have any reason to yell at me,
after all... //

         "Yeah!" Cordelia responded enthusiastically.

         "Buffy?" Willow said hopefully, her eyes dancing as she looked
at her friend.

         The Slayer pursed her lips, considering. "Sure. We saved the
world. I say we party." She looked down at her bedraggled self, then at the
rest of us and added a little more tearily, "I mean, I got all pretty...."

         "What about him?" I asked, studying the remains of the Master
with worry. The skeleton was still impaled on the broken table, a grisly
reminder of what we'd just gone through.

         Buffy turned and studied the corpse in turn, her eyes darkening.
"He's not going anywhere," she stated with eerie certainty. Then her lip
curled into a classic teen-ager's sneer. "*Loser.*"

         We stood there a moment more, contemplating the dead vampire, then
all of us turned and walked toward the door. I grabbed my purse from the
library counter as we went by, and Giles told me, "I'm not dancing, that's understood..."

         "We'll see," I responded happily, too glad to be alive to tease
him very hard.

         "What's with the car in the hall?" Xander asked bemusedly.

         "Oh, that was me, saving the day!" Cordelia said, sounding proud
of herself, skipping over to her BMW and climbing in.

         "I'm *really* hungry..." Buffy mentioned as Giles held the door
open for her. Willow was babbling something Angel about joining us at the
dance, and he smiled crookedly, looking bemused.

         "By the way, I really like your dress," I heard Buffy's friend
say as they went by, smiling at her crookedly.

         "Yeah, yeah, a big hit with everyone," the Slayer responded
dryly, her eyes sparkling at him despite her words.

         "Who wants shotgun?" I asked, jingling my keys as we went out to
the parking lot. Cordelia was backing her car out carefully, and I
momentarily wondered how we were going to explain the destruction of the
doors on Monday. //Well, I guess we can blame it on aftershocks? Or
something...// Then again, total denial might be the smartest course.

         "Me!" Willow said, skipping ahead.

         "I'm not getting into a car with Cordelia," Xander said, raising
his eyebrows and following Willow for a second, then pausing to look back
at Buffy. The Slayer was already climbing into the front seat of Giles's
junker, gathering her skirt together so it wouldn't drag.

         "I'll drive Angel and Buffy, and we'll meet you there," Giles
said calmly, holding the rear door of his car for the other young man.
Xander's shoulders hunched, and I nodded thoughtfully at Giles, then
unlocked the car doors for my passengers.

         "...*really* glad you're okay, Xander," Willow was saying as I
got in. "That was pretty smart, taking Angel along. But what did you mean
when you said Buffy died?"

         "Oh, well, she was only dead a couple minutes. But I had to give
her CPR, 'cause the Master had dropped her into this pool of water, so
she'd gone into shock," Xander replied, cheering up at the chance to
explain. "That's not something Angel could do," he added under his breath,
and I glanced at him in the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of
bitterness in his expression.

         "Good for you," I responded, getting us out of the parking lot.

         "Thanks." Xander's smile turned wry, and Willow leaned around the
seat to squeeze his hand, her face full of admiration and sympathy.

         //What a mess. Xander loves Buffy, Willow's got a crush on Xander,
and... well, I suppose Buffy and her friend Angel are okay, at least.// I
shook my head, and turned down Main toward the Bronze, feeling a million
years older than I had at the beginning of the evening. //Some things are
constant, no matter what the circumstances, I guess. I'm glad I'm not
sixteen anymore, that's for sure.... And I'm *so* glad we're still alive,
even if it does mean playing chaperone at the Spring Fling!//

         We could hear sounds of the celebration about a block away, and I
started to smile, finally beginning to believe it was all over with.

 *

 But the night's still young. :>> Go to part 6 to see the Spring Fling.

 Comments to [e-mail]         Christina

This story is posted on the web at :
http://www.enteract.com/~perridox/SunS.html

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

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