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buffyfic Digest        Friday, October 17 1997        Volume 01 : Number 041



In this issue:

    BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (3b/6)
    BUFFYFIC: The Stranger (8/8)
    BUFFYFIC: The Stranger (7/8)
    BUFFYFIC: 50 Ways to Bleed Your Lover
    BUFFYFIC: Graveside Goodbye

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: Wed, 15 Oct 1997 03:42:36, -0500
From: [e-mail] (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (3b/6)

Major TYK's to Dianne DeSha for helping me resend this!

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

         "Slayer," I repeated in a flat voice, still trying to assimilate
all the new information, trying to keep track of the players.

         "For each generation, there is one Slayer, a Chosen One---"

         "Like in the prophecy...."

         "Yes, as in the prophecy, who is born to stand againstthe
Dark...." A very small, tired smile actually managed to break through the
tension on his face, and his voice relaxed a little. "Buffy always says I
enjoy explaining this too much," he murmured, turning back to the weapons
locker.

         "Buffy... Summers?" The blonde, bouncy, smart-mouthed girl with
the cynical eyes? She was sixteen. Willow's best friend. She couldn't be
some supernatural dragonslayer. That wasn't possible. That was ridiculous.
I'd heard him wrong. Right?

         "Mmmm." But Rupert was nodding, frowning at the contents of the
locker again. "She's the Slayer." I blinked at him stupidly as he nattered
on, blithely oblivious to my reaction. "And a rather gifted one, at
that... The prophecy that she will face the Master tonight states that a
vampire, known simply as the 'Anointed One' will deliver her into hell and
into the Master's clutches... and she will die." His voice had turned
bleak and harsh; I couldn't see his face, shadowed in the recesses of the
cabinet.

        It suddenly hit me what all this feverish activity was about. Not
just saving the world---which is noble, and great, and I'm not knocking
it---but saving a kid we both knew from an ugly death. Like the kids in
the A/V room that morning; like Dave and Fritz.  I wanted to hug Giles at
that moment, I liked him so intensely. Not for fighting for an
intellectual principle, or the entire world, but for fighting for a girl
he liked and cared about. I took a deep breath, and straightened a bit, a
determination not to do any less than the Brit giving me focus.

         "Okay, so this Master guy tried to open the Hellmouth, but he got
stuck in it. But now all the signs are reading that he'll get out, which
opens the Hellmouth, which brings the demons, which ends the world," I
concluded, fairly certain I had a handle on the basics.

         "Yes, that sums it up. Yes," Rupert answered distractedly,
already absorbed in another sword he was testing.

         "The part that gets me is where Buffy is the vampire slayer.
She's so *little*," I blurted out, trying to imagine petite Buffy playing
Von Helsing with undead zombies, and failing totally.

         "Did you manage to get in touch with this Brother Luca chap?"
Giles asked, ignoring my comment, focused on the weapons he was collecting
again. If we were really facing the kind of Armageddon he was describing,
he was probably smart. Although way, way optimistic, if he thought they'd
really dent any demons....

         "Mmmm. No." I grimaced. "As far as I can tell, no one can. He's
disappeared. Did send out one last global, though. Short one."

         "What did it say?"

         "Isaiah 11:6, which I dutifully looked up---" I fumbled for the
King James, but I didn't get a chance to show off.

         Because Rupert interrupted me before I could read him the
quotation, obviously knowing it by heart already. "The wolf shall live
with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the kid, the calf, the lion
and the fatling... and a little child shall lead them all."

         "Kind of warm and fuzzy for a message of doom," I commented
doubtfully, although I was impressed by Rupert's memory.

         "That all depends on where he's leading them to," Rupert pointed
out, continuing his preparations. "Aurelius wrote of the Anointed One that
'the Slayer will not know him, and he will lead her into Hell.'"

         "So Luca thinks the Anointed is a kid," I commented, fighting
down nausea at the thought of a child-sized vampire. //I never _did_ like
Anne Rice....//

         Snobby raised his eyebrows, still preoccupied with the weapons.
"If the vampire Buffy killed was in fact not the Anointed One, it may well
be."

         "Well then, we need to warn her."

         "I don't intend involving her at all," Rupert said with perfect
detachment, calmly examining a ceremonial dagger on the table, then
putting it back into its sheath.

         I blinked at him, lost again. "What do you mean?"

         "Buffy's not going to face the Master," Giles quietly answered,
leaning against the table, looking me in the face for the first time in
several minutes; composed and seeming almost tranquil in his decision. A
chill ran up my spine at his expression.  "I am."

         //What?!// A protest was rising to my lips, along with the urge
to shake him until he got his sanity back, but I was forestalled by a
voice interrupting our discussion and startling both of us.

         "No, you're not." Buffy Summers strolled forward from the library
entrance; she must have been there for a while, but I'd been too caught up
in deciphering the prophecy and worrying about Snobby's mental health to
notice her. She looked lovely, her hair up in a tendriled ponytail, with a
black leather jacket thrown over a beautiful gauzy white prom gown. //The
Prom...// Surreality assaulted me again; the slender girl in front of me
couldn't be any kind of Chosen One, despite what Rupert said. The air of
fragile toughness about her was the same as that of any teenager, equal
parts bravado and real reckless bravery. Her next words still didn't
dispell my disbelief: "So, I'm looking for a kid, hunh? And he'll lead me
to the Master?"

         Rupert straightened, his expression taking on a warning cast.
"Buffy, I'm not going to send you out there to die." He had his hands on
his hips, mimicking Buffy's stance.  The similarities between them, the
body language of long acquaintance, started to sink in then; and I think
that's when I started being afraid, really afraid, and I began to believe
what Giles had told me about Buffy and the prophecy. "You were right, I've
waded about in those old books for so long, I've forgotten what the real
world is like." He set his jaw, stiff upper lip very much in evidence.
"It's time I found out."

         "You're still not going up against the Master," Buffy
contradicted him.

         "I've made up my mind," Snobby said obstinately.

         "So've I," Buffy rejoined, not budging an inch. I swallowed,
feeling left behind, left out, on the wrong page of the music; this was
about more than the end of the world, I could see that. They'd discussed
this before, disagreed about what to do, or what was going to happen---and
now Rupert was volunteering to take her place. And Buffy wasn't willing to
let him do that, when most kids would be whimpering with relief. Out of
affection, or a sense of responsibility, or sheer pigheadedness; and I
understood how Snobby could care about this kid enough to want to save her
for her own sake.

         "I made up mine first!" Rupert retorted, sounding like a
recalcitrant six-year-old.  "I'm older and wiser than you, and you will
just do what you're told for once!... All right?" His outrage lost a lot
of its strength on that last plea; I clenched my own jaw to keep myself
from interrupting. What was the right thing to do? //Stop this, we can't
just go along with this kind of destiny---// But I didn't like Rupert's
solution any better....

         Buffy gave a tiny headshake, smiling at Rupert with compassion,
and maybe a little bit of pity, and seeming in that instant much older
than sixteen.  "That's not how it goes. _I'm_ the Slayer."

         "I don't care what the books say. I defy prophecy, and I am
going. There's nothing you can say will change my mind," Rupert stated,
his outward calm doing nothing to mask the feeling behind his assertion.

         "I know." There was total acceptance and understanding in those
two words; and then tiny Buffy reached up nearly a foot and landed a right
cross Holyfield would have paid for <<smack!>> on Giles' jaw. The punch
practically lifted him off his feet, and I could just about see cartoon
birds circling his head as Snobby toppled over. I froze in shock for a
second, reflexively thinking //a-student-just-hit-a-teacher!// before I
could stop it, then I ran over to where Rupert was lying and lifted his
head into my lap, hoping he hadn't cracked his head on the floor as he
landed. When I looked up, Buffy was fastening a large cross that had lain
on the table around her neck, and then she picked up the crossbow.

         I was still in shock, I think, still playing catch-up, worried
about Snobby, scrambling to figure out what was going to happen next....
But I didn't doubt that Buffy was the Slayer any more.

         "When he wakes up tell him..." Buffy paused diffidently,
shrugging and looking rueful. "I don't know. Think of something cool, tell
him I said it."

         "If you face the Master, you'll die," I said. It was finally
sinking in. Lose-lose situation; if the prophecy was fulfilled, the Master
would get free, Buffy would die, and there was nothing I could do. If I
tried to stop her, she'd probably land a haymaker on *my* jaw.

         "Maybe." Buffy's voice thinned, and her expression became more
remote as she loaded the crossbow, then turned away from me. "Maybe I'll
take him with me."

         I watched her go, feeling helpless, knowing how much it would
hurt Giles when he woke up and realized she was gone, that he hadn't been
able to stop her.   I turned back to him, checking for extra bumps and
bruises, then went to get the First Aid kit in his office, feeling
desolate and shaky. All this time, they'd been fighting a war I didn't
even know about; and now, it seemed, I was just in time to join up for the
last engagement.

        I stared down at Rupert again, furious with him, admiring him, and
aching for what was to come. "You should have told me sooner," I
whispered. "I would have helped...." Too late for that, though. I just
prayed it wasn't too late to make a difference this one last time.

 *

 Christina           [e-mail]             }|{ Comments?

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

Date: Wed, 15 Oct 1997 19:09:47 -0500 (CDT)
From: [e-mail] (Perri Smith)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Stranger (8/8)

See disclaimer in part 1.

The Stranger (Part 8)
by Perri Smith
Copyright 1997

*****


Time passed. The police came in due course, after someone living near the
Bronze phoned in the reports of gunshots, but the group managed to avoid
them, slipping out through the fire exit and stumbling back to the
hospital.

Buffy stayed there for what was left of the night, falling almost instantly
into a heavy sleep in the chair at her mother's side.  Giles drove Willow
and Xander the few short blocks to their houses, all of them too tired to
contemplate the walk, then presumably went back to the hospital to look
after Buffy. Willow fielded her parents' questions as she came in, managed
to mumble out explanations and assurances that contented them, then fell
face first onto her bed and slept dreamlessly.

Rumors flew the next day at school, of gang shootouts and drug deals gone
bad, despite the fact that no bodies had been found at the Bronze. Only a
pile of dust and a single gun. Willow plowed her way through her classes,
fell asleep sitting up only once, and studiously avoided Ms. Calendar, who
saw way too much. A history test -- the one Buffy had found a way out of
after all -- passed in a blur, then it was back to the hospital, where
Buffy's mom was sitting up, talking and smiling and fussing about the
gallery and Buffy missing school.

She and the doctors finally shooed them all out, with assurances that
Buffy's mom could go home the next day, and Willow and Xander escorted
Buffy home. That night, as Willow listened soberly and more than a little
tearfully, Buffy told her about the gypsy curse that Angel carried, about
what Darla had been to him, and what he'd really done when he'd killed her.

"So, she was like, his girlfriend?"

Buffy sighed and shrugged, leaning back against her pillows wearily. There
were still circles under her eyes that no amount of sleep could erase.
"Girlfriend, mother, sister... I'm not sure. I think she was pretty much
everything, all the time he was, um.... like the rest of them."

Willow smiled understandingly from where she was curled up at the foot of
Buffy's bed. Her parents had been all in favor of a sleepover, as had Giles
- -- no one thought Buffy should be staying home alone. Xander's offer to
join them for added security, however, had been roundly rejected.

"So he really isn't one of them anymore, is he?" Willow said, thinking of
Angel. "He's a good guy."

Buffy nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess he is. It's still... weird, though.
He's a vampire. I don't think I'm ever going to get used to that."

"Join the club," Willow muttered ruefully.

Buffy grinned unexpectedly, the first time she'd smiled in days. "I don't
think *Giles* is ever going to get used to it; he just can't deal with the
concept of a vampire actually *helping* the Slayer, much less saving her
life."

"He'll come around," Willow predicted with more confidence than she felt.
"So will Xander."

Buffy's smile faded. "If they get the chance."

Willow bit her lip and studied the bedspread intently. Two days, and it was
as if Angel had vanished when he'd left the Bronze. No lurking in corners,
no warnings, no nothing. They didn't even know if he was all right, if he'd
recovered from what Darla had done to him.

And Willow wanted to know almost as badly as Buffy did.

"Maybe he'll be at the Bronze tomorrow night," she offered hesitantly. "He
probably doesn't want to come here since you threw him out the window and
all."

Buffy winced. "God, I can't believe I did that. I can't believe I tried to
kill him. He probably saved my mom's life and I almost...."

"But you didn't." Willow cut her off firmly, having heard this particular
guilty gush three times in the last hour. "And he didn't exactly make it
easy for you to figure out what happened."

"But still...." Buffy stared out the window. "Willow, he killed her for me.
She said he loves me, and then he killed her for me. What do I... What can
I say to him after that?"

"I don't know," Willow admitted, way out of her league. She'd take her
nice, simple unrequited crush over this any day. "I wish I could help."

"You are helping," Buffy said quietly.

They sat in an awkward silence, then Willow cleared her throat. "Anyway,
you missed the subtle hint, which meant, you *are* coming to the Bronze
with us tomorrow night, aren't you?"

"I don't know.... It'll be Mom's first night home. I should stay with her."

Willow gave her a Look. "Buffy, she kicked you out of the hospital today
because you were driving her crazy. I don't think she'll mind if you go.
She'll probably push you out the door."

Buffy grinned reluctantly. "You're right, she will."

"So you'll go?" Willow persisted, leaning forward.

"All right, all right!" Buffy started laughing. "You are really stubborn,
you know that?"

Willow shrugged and grinned. "I've been taking lessons from the best."

Buffy made a face at her, then swatted her with a pillow. Willow instantly
retaliated, and all seriousness was utterly forgotten.

*****

The Bronze was rocking, relieved teenagers flocking the dance floor and
trying to make up for the four days of musical deprivation. The trio stood
in the entrance for a long minute, comparing the lively, cheerful place to
the grim emptiness of only a couple days before. This way was *much*
better, Willow decided.

"Ah, the Post-Fumigation Party," Xander breathed happily, apparently in
perfect agreement with Willow's thoughts.

"Okay, so what's the difference between this and the Pre-Fumigation Party?"
Buffy asked with amusement.

"Much hardier cockroaches," Xander shot back. Buffy rolled her eyes,
apparently realizing she'd walked into a *very* old Sunnydale joke. She
still seemed amused, though; a rousing pillow fight followed by a full
night's sleep in an actual bed had done wonders for her appearance and her
attitude. She looked almost normal, if still a bit distant.

"So, no word from Angel?" Willow asked for no reason. Then she caught a
glimpse of the reason, leaning against the far wall, watching the three of
them with eyes so intense Willow could almost feel them. Correction,
watching Buffy. She looked away quickly, not wanting to blow his cover if
he didn't want to be seen. They owed him that much, at least.

"Nah," Buffy said, making a small face and trying to pretend it didn't
matter. She completely blew the effect by wistfully adding, "It's weird
though. In a way, I feel like he's still watching me."

The hell with Angel's cover. "Well, in a way he sort of is," Willow gave
him away without another thought. "In the way that, he's right over there."

Buffy followed Willow's gesture and froze as her eyes locked with Angel's.
In a second, everyone else in the room disappeared for both the Slayer and
the vampire. Willow watched with interest and the slightest touch of envy
as Buffy walked to meet Angel on the dance floor, both moving as if they
were pulled together by an invisible string.

If Xander had been even a little less intent on being cool and mature, he'd
have been pouting. "I don't need to watch, because I'm not threatened," he
declared to no one in particular, seating himself with his back very
deliberately to the dance floor. "I'm just gonna look this way."

Willow smiled and seated herself opposite him, adjusting herself until she
had the best possible view. There was no way she was going to miss this --
now, if only she could lip read.

Not that it mattered much; Buffy and Angel's faces were speaking volumes.
Angel actually smiled once and Willow grinned in response -- he had a nice
smile. Then, slowly and inevitably, Angel leaned forward to kiss Buffy, and
Buffy wrapped herself in his embrace, oblivious to the crowds around them.
Willow sighed with vicarious happiness.

"What's going on?" Xander asked suspiciously, eyeing her.

"Nothing," Willow lied, straight-faced.

Xander smiled unconvincingly. "Well, as long as they're not kissing."

It was probably best not to answer that, so Willow didn't. The couple on
the dance floor moved apart slowly and reluctantly (to Willow's admittedly
biased eyes); with only a few more words, Buffy backed away from Angel, her
face sober. He stared after her as she left the dance floor, and, like two
nights before, only Willow saw what was in his eyes. But she could only
watch for a second before it felt like an invasion of privacy, and when she
looked back, he was gone.

Xander popped to his feet as soon as Buffy was within speaking range,
opening his mouth to say something possibly witty, and almost certainly
insulting towards Angel. But the look on her face stopped him before he
could get the words out.

Buffy was smiling a little, sadly, as if she'd just lost something really
valuable, and had already resigned herself to never getting it back. Her
eyes were very calm and steady, like they belonged to an entirely different
person -- someone much older than sixteen.

Xander hesitated, then, instead of saying anything, awkwardly put his arm
around Buffy in a silent gesture of support; she leaned her head against
his shoulder. Willow watched in helpless silence.

"Are... are you okay?" she asked finally.

"Sure," Buffy answered quietly and unconvincingly, straightening. Xander
took the hint and let his arm fall away, but stayed close to her. Willow
couldn't bring herself to mind. "We both... I know it would never work.
It's just... one of those things."

She sighed, fingering the cross at her throat, then grinned a little
crookedly, and was suddenly sixteen again. Suddenly Buffy again. "Sometimes
fate just sucks dead bunnies through a straw, you know?"

Willow returned the grin with sympathy and relief. "I hear you," she
agreed, rolling her eyes towards Xander.

He, of course, was oblivious, all of his attention on Buffy, but Buffy got
it and her smile widened a little. "Look, guys, I'm not really up for
partying tonight. Would you mind if we bailed?"

"Oh, hey, anywhere you want to go," Xander assured her instantly. "I'll...
um, *we'll* walk you home."

"Actually, I was kind of thinking more along the lines of Ben & Jerry's,"
Buffy admitted sheepishly. "I feel the need for a *major* chocolate binge."

"Ice cream it is, then." Xander slung his arm around her shoulders again,
but put the other around Willow this time, slipping into his adorable
'protective' mode. Willow was willing to settle for that; she put her arm
around his waist, on top of Buffy's, and snuggled in. "And will it be
Chunky Monkey for the ladies, or Triple Brownie Overload?"

"Chunky Monkey," Willow answered promptly, at the same time that Buffy
said, "Triple Brownie."

They were still debating the point as they left the Bronze and headed down
the street towards the ice cream bar, talking at the top of their lungs as
if they could drive the night away by sheer volume.

Willow lagged a few steps behind the other two, watching the shadows out of
the corner of her eye. She thought she saw one of them move, but didn't
worry about it; she was pretty sure she knew who was lurking there. On
impulse, she called out softly, "Good night, Angel."

There was no answer, but then, she hadn't expected one. So she just grinned
and kept walking.

She wasn't afraid of the shadows anymore; not as long as Angel was one of them.


Finis

- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Perri <[e-mail]>      I *am* the Buffy Evangalist!
NatPacker-*-Horsechick-*-Pretender-*-Cohenhead-*-DDEB2-*-AGA-*-SunS-*-CoJ
"I'm putting a collar with a little bell on that guy." -- Xander

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

Date: Wed, 15 Oct 1997 19:09:27 -0500 (CDT)
From: [e-mail] (Perri Smith)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Stranger (7/8)

See disclaimer in part 1.

The Stranger (Part 7)
by Perri Smith
Copyright 1997

*****

They made it as far as the hospital room before Willow stopped, hearing
Giles's voice from inside. He sounded upset, and looked even more so when
he came striding out of the room, already pulling his coat on.

"We have a problem," he announced, as the pair fell in step beside him.

"Tell us something we didn't know," Xander said.

Willow just looked seriously up at Giles, past the point of shock. "What
happened now?"

"I discovered who attacked Buffy's mother," Giles told them as they hurried
past the nurses' station and onto the elevator. "And it wasn't Angel."

"It wasn't?" Willow and Xander chorused in ragged, surprised unison.

"Then... who was it?" Willow asked.

"Someone called Darla, a vampire who presented herself as one of Buffy's
friends." Giles punched impatiently at the elevator button, as if that
would make it go faster. "She tricked Buffy's mother into inviting her
inside, and then... Damn! I should have seen this coming, I should have
taken precautions--"

"What precautions?" Willow asked sensibly, as the elevator doors opened at
last. Giles didn't bother to make sure they were following, or to head for
his car, just took off down the street at something close to a run. Xander
and Willow followed, Willow still arguing, "You didn't know someone
would... Oh, no." Her eyes went wide as the implications hit. "Then Angel
*isn't* the bad guy, he *didn't* hurt her mom, but Buffy's going to try to
kill him anyway! We have to stop her!"

"We do?" Xander blinked at her as well as he could while stumbling at a
near run down a pitch-black street. "I mean, we don't know Angel didn't--"

"Xander!"

"All right, all right!" Xander backed down. "Where are we going?"

"The Bronze," Giles told them over his shoulder without slowing. They
didn't have any time to spare. Buffy had been gone for almost an hour, more
than enough time to....

Willow forced the thought away and raced after Giles as he pushed his way
through the underbrush, using a shortcut Willow hadn't even known existed.
"We're near the Bronze," she panted, recognizing the buldings through the
trees. "What now?"

"We keep looking for her."

"I've got a question," Xander spoke up from the rear. "What if we find her,
and she's fighting Angel and some of his friends. What the heck are we
gonna do about it?"

Good question. A really good question. But not one Willow really wanted to
hear. They'd do *something*, that was all that mattered.

The Bronze was dark and deserted when they broke out of the trees and onto
the parking lot. The fumigation hadn't been finished yet, so there were no
lights, no music. It looked creepy as sin, even to someone who *wasn't*
busy trying not to picture what was probably happening inside.

Giles tried the side doors, which were locked, of course. No matter how
much time they spent inside, never *once* had they been able to get into
the Bronze when it was really important. There was a certain amount of
irony in that, but Willow wasn't in any condition to appreciate it.

"Xander, try the front," Giles ordered sharply, throwing his weight against
the side door again. "Willow, the upper level, where Buffy got in during
the Harvest."

"Right." They both started to split off towards their assignments, before a
sudden, sharp *crack*, instantly recognizable to anyone who'd ever seen
NYPD Blue, stopped them in their tracks. "Did you just hear...?" Xander
asked nervously.

Yes, they had. Giles had gone from upset to downright grim and Xander
looked like he'd be panicking if it wouldn't ruin his 'cool' image. Willow
swarmed up the fire escape faster than she'd known she could move, and
found the fire door standing open, the lock broken. Buffy had been through
here, all right. She gestured frantically to the other two, then ducked
through the door, crouching low to stay out of sight.

Because they weren't alone.

Voices echoed through the club eerily, bouncing off the concrete walls. A
woman's voice, smug, irritating, familiar. The twang of a crossbow and
Willow held her breath as she looked over the railing, hoping to see a pile
of dust.

Instead, she saw a blonde vampire, her face fright masked and a gun in each
hand, looking down at a crossbow bolt that stuck out of her stomach. Buffy
was hastily reloading and, in the shadows behind them both, Angel dragged
himself up from the floor, clutching another bolt lodged in the wall beside
him, his face a mask of pain.

"Close," the blonde vampire said smugly. "But no heart." She dragged the
bolt out of her stomach with a grunt, then threw it away casually and
lifted her guns again. She fired, the shots echoing like cannon.

"We need to distract her," Xander said urgently. "Fast."

Willow didn't stop to think how dumb it was, or how unprotected they were.
She filled her lungs and shouted with all her might, "Buffy, it wasn't
Angel who attacked your mom, it was Darla!"

It distracted the vampire, all right. Darla turned and fired up at their
balcony. Xander and Willow bellyflopped as Giles wormed his way across the
floor to one of the Bronze's battered lightboards.

Beneath them, Darla jumped up on top of a pool table, and began strolling
along it, confidently, unstoppably stalking the Slayer who hid at the other
end.

A little too confidently, as it turned out. Buffy jumped up from her hiding
place and jerked the heavy table forward as if it weighed nothing. Darla
lost her balance and fell backwards as Buffy shoved the table away from her
as hard as she could, nearly dumping herself on the floor in the process.
Flat on her back on the moving table, Darla fired wildly from both guns,
keeping the Slayer down. Buffy wound up behind the bar and the dubious
protection of the counters and cabinets.

The table stopped and Darla regained her composure, swinging her feet to
the ground and walking forward towards Buffy, firing carelessly, as if she
didn't care who or what she hit.

Probably, she didn't. Willow recognized her now, the blond vampire who had
kidnapped Jesse, who had tried to kill Giles in the Bronze what seemed like
a lifetime ago. Willow had stopped her that second time, but there was no
holy water, no weapons now. Nothing to do but watch as the bullets pounding
into the bar, shattering glass all around Buffy's hiding place. She tried
not to think of how that first encounter with Darla had ended, of Jesse
turned into one of the monsters they'd been fighting. Of Jesse lying in a
pile of ash....

A sudden slam beside her startled Willow out of her grim thoughts. Giles
had lost patience with the lightboard and begun pounding it into the table
and, where care hadn't worked, brute force did. The lights flickered, then
began to strobe. As Darla blinked in confusion, Buffy raced for better
cover.

Darla adjusted quickly, filtering out the distractions to focus in on her
target. With sinking dread, Willow realized the vampire was done with
playing games. "Come on, Buffy," Darla sneered. "Take it like a man."

Xander's eyes were focused on Buffy, as if he could will the bullets to
bounce off of her. Giles was still fussing with the lightboard, trying to
make it produce something useful. Buffy was hidden, and Darla had her back
turned.

So Willow was the only one to see the tall form separate himself from the
shadows, the crossbow bolt he'd used to pull himself to his feet now
clutched in his hand. And she was the only one to see him lift his arm to
bury the bolt in Darla's unprotected back, straight into her heart.

The vampire staggered under the force of the blow. Bending under whatever
it was vampires felt before they died, she turned, staring up at Angel with
betrayed, disbelieving eyes. For a moment, she looked almost human.

"Angel?" she whispered. It was all she could say before she fell, her body
collapsing to dust before she reached the boards. One gun clattered to rest
on the floor; nothing else remained.

Everything seemed to have stopped moving, only the lights strobing in their
relentless rhythm. Willow had stopped breathing; she could only see Angel's
face, caught half in shadow, half in light. Buffy stepped out from her
cover, staring at Angel with wide, amazed eyes. He looked back at her, his
face blank and his eyes eloquent, although Willow had no idea what he was
saying. Somehow, she thought Buffy would know.

Slowly, Angel turned and walked back into the darkness, staggering a little
as he went, leaving the four mortals to stare after him.


- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Perri <[e-mail]>      I *am* the Buffy Evangalist!
NatPacker-*-Horsechick-*-Pretender-*-Cohenhead-*-DDEB2-*-AGA-*-SunS-*-CoJ
"I'm putting a collar with a little bell on that guy." -- Xander

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

Date: Fri, 17 Oct 1997 13:06:28 -0700
From: Lisa Rose <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: 50 Ways to Bleed Your Lover

50 WAYS TO BLEED YOUR LOVER

(To the tune of "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover" by Paul Simon)

Your problem is simply too much soul, sweet Darla said
The answer will come as I give neck instead of head
I'd like to help you on your way to being dead
There must be fifty ways to bleed you, lover

She said it's really not the worst of worlds, I guess
For with strength and life eternal I'll erotically you bless
Now let's repeat the act, though it may create a mess
'Cause I have fifty ways to bleed my lovers
Fifty ways to bleed my lovers

Chorus: I'll sip on your wrist, Chris
        Bite on your neck, Rex
        Drink from your vein, Wayne
        Until you're like me
        I'll siphon your heart, Bart
        It's all part of my dark art
        Just taste of my blood, Judd
        And let your soul flee

She said there will be several moments of raw pain
But it's good because it helps us all to feel alive again
You'll soon appreciate that,
Now listen as I explain all the fifty ways...

She said the time has come to drink on this tonight
And I believe in the morning you'll begin to fear the light
Then she sucked me, and I shivered 'cause she probably was right
There must be fifty ways to bleed your lover
Fifty ways to bleed your lover

Chorus

(Lyrics copyright 1997 by Lisa Rose;
title inspired by Jim)
- ------------------------------------------
http://www.wco.com/~cybrpaws/lilbuffy.html

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

Date: Fri, 17 Oct 1997 16:36:58 EDT
From: [e-mail] (Annanara a.k.a Anna)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Graveside Goodbye

Graveside Goodbye
by Annanara

Disclaimer:  I don't own any of the BtVS chracter, Joss Whedon and the WB
do.
The lyrics are from A Celtic Tale: The Legend of Deirdre by Michael and
Jeff
Danna.


Xander stood among the many stones that made up the forest-like
atmosphere of the Sunnydale Cemetery.  He gazed longingly at the
darkening sky which had once been a beautiful blue earlier.  The day had
been obscenely clear, crisp, and breezy with a hint of Fall coolness in
the air.  But now...now the sun was setting, covering the sky in a blood
red.

She had asked that it be done after sunset.  She knew asking such would
be dangerous, but it was for the benefit of one member of their group.
One who couldn't be here till the sun was safely below the horizon.  She
had wanted him to be present, she wanted them -all- to be present, for
she knew that we'd need each other now more than ever.

But, she was the person he needed more than ever.  She was always what he
needed and now she was gone.  She was his heart, his soul, his home, and
now she was gone forever.  She would never be returning, she would never
surprise him when he wasn't paying attention, and she would never know
exactly how much she meant to him.

In skies of frozen snow
Where winds of sadness roam
Red's sun burning low
You were my home
Where I would go

The small group huddled closer as the sun sank below the horizon.  He
would never see another sunset with her again.  Never hold her close.
Never wrestle with her or tackle her on a sunny weekend with the rest of
her friends.

Xander watched the last tendrils of light retreat, the immaculate green
grass becoming dark.  It reflected the feelings in his heart.  It all
seemed so unreal, so unnatural.  A dark, horrible mistake.  A nightmare
come true.  But the longer he stared at the tombstone before him, he knew
it was no dream.

In green fields
Now unknown
Your name upon
The standing stone

Angel arrived a few moments later, dressed in black as always.  He had
with him a yellow rose.  The rose of friendship.  He laid it carefully
upon the fresh grave.  She had been buried earlier in the day, but in an
unofficial will she had requested that we have this private gathering.
She was always thinking of others, why couldn't she have thought about
herself for just one moment?  If she had, he was sure that she'd possibly
still be around today.  If only she hadn't tried to help him.  If only he
hadn't gotten careless for one moment...

Love invites
One last call
When death from life
Begins to fall

One of the vampires had been slowly backing him into a corner.  It held a
stake clutched in it's hand, ready to bring it down on him.  He started
reaching out blindly for things to throw at it.  She had seen his trouble
and rushed over to help him.

He stumbled backwards, turning his back to the vampire for one second.
The vampire raised it's arm and brought the stake down, but before it hit
him, she pushed him out of the way screaming his name.  The stake dropped
right down through her chest.

He never did find out who staked the vampire, but it turned to ashes as
he held her in his arm.  All he could think was that his love was dying.
He smoothed back her hair, the blood on his hands blending into her hair
easily.  Rocking her gently, he was desperate to believe that she wasn't
really dying, that she'd miraculously heal before his eyes.  He knew it
wasn't going to happen, but all he could do was hope.

They all knew there was no way she would survive long enough for help.
And she knew best of all.  She had put a bloody finger up to his lips,
shushing him.  Giving him the sweetest and saddest smile he had ever
seen, she whispered, "I love you, Xander."  He replied that he loved her
and her smile was so bright it was hard to believe she was dying.  Her
eyes slowly fluttered, then shut for the final time.  He felt her body
relax and could have sworn he felt a cold rush as her spirit left.

He screamed in pain and outrage.  She was truly gone.  He continued to
rock her body in his lap, gazing upon the gentle face of his love.  Her
face had a faint smile as if she had died happily.  If it weren't for the
blood and the stake in her tiny body, it looked as if she had simply
fallen asleep.

She should be asleep, he had thought.  She should be in bed, far away
from all this.  She shouldn't have risked her life...and lost.

The streams no longer go
To tides of distant seas
No love can grow old
Without memories
Your arms my home
Where I would sleep

The tears came again, falling unashamed as he looked upon her tombstone.
He fell to his knees before the grave and cried.

How can I live without you? he silently cried.  I don't want to be
without you!  I need someone to show me how to do my math, to prod me to
do my work, to be there when nobody else is.  I needed you to stay, so I
could sort out my feelings about you.  To know if there could have been
something more...

Tears
Now unfold
How can I now
Alone grow old
Dusty Stars
Shed their lights
When death from life
Slips silently to the night

The night became darker and the danger increased.  The moon lit up the
graveyard, shining it's light upon such a dark occasion.  As he cried,
Buffy came up behind him, putting a comforting arm around him.  Giles
knelt on his other side, Ms. Calendar standing behind him.  Cordelia even
rested a hand on his shoulders, as did Angel.  Eventually everyone was
crying in a group hug, supporting each other.  They were all painfully
aware of the one person who should be with them and wasn't.  That loss
made them all hold on to each other that much tighter.

The group slowly dispersed, Buffy and Angel staying behind to make sure
Xander got home safely.  They left Xander at the grave and walked a
discreet distance away, giving him a private moment.

Xander studied the marble tombstone one last time before leaving; his
hand following the carved letters of her name.  The light of the moon
made it so easy to see the inscription...

Willow Ann Rosenberg
November 26, 1980 - October 15, 1997
Beloved Daughter and Friend
- --------------------------------
The End

Yes, I know it's sad, but I couldn't help myself.  I was listening to the
song and this story just came to mind.  Let me know what you thought!

Annanara
GASPer, Keeper of Giles' Skip
"That went well.  I think." <skip> --Giles, SAR
Keeper of Willow's Box of Raisins

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

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