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Buffyfic-digest        Sunday, January 18 1998        Volume 01 : Number 086



In this issue:

       BUFFYFIC: Ill Met By Moonlight, Part 3 of 19
       BUFFYFIC: Ill Met By Moonlight, Part 4 of 19
       BUFFYFIC: Ill Met By Moonlight, Part 5 of 19
       BUFFYFIC: unsubscribe Buffy
       BUFFYFIC: "One Vampire's Headache..." (1/?)
       Re: BUFFYFIC: "A Truth Worse Than Lies" -- 12/12
       Re: BUFFYFIC: "Return to Normalcy" (3/3)

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

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

Date: Sun, 18 Jan 1998 00:09:46 -0600 (CST)
From: [e-mail] (Perri Smith)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Ill Met By Moonlight, Part 3 of 19

Forgot to note in the first part  -- this story is rated PG-13 for
violence, a few gory scenes, and some cursing. Nothing too strong.

See disclaimer in part one. Compliments accepted/enjoyed/ignored at
[e-mail].

*****

Ill Met By Moonlight (3/19)
by Perri Smith
Copyright 1998

Part 2

Buffy fought down the instinctive leap her heart had taken when she'd
realized how close Angel was, the rush of emotion the sight of his face
brought. It suddenly seemed much longer than three days since she'd seen
him.

Then she blinked in surprise for a long moment, her eyes going from Angel's
face to the woman he held, her limp body cradled in his arms, a tangle of
dark blonde hair obscuring her face. A flash of unreasonable jealousy
almost blinded her, until she registered how Angel was carrying the woman.

He didn't embrace her like a lover, or even a friend. Instead, his arms
were tense, holding the woman slightly away from his body, as if she was a
sack of something that he didn't want to be touching, much less hauling
around.

"Bring her in, Angel," Buffy half-invited, half-ordered, jumping forward
and pulling her blue overshirt off as she went. Most of the blood seemed to
be coming from the woman's left leg; Buffy wrapped her shirt around the
most obvious gashes and applied pressure as Angel came the rest of the way
into the room. "Giles, your office?"

Giles was still in the blinking stage of shock. "Oh, yes, of course," he
stammered, Buffy's demand bringing him back to reality. "This way, Angel."

Angel nodded shortly and followed Giles into his small back office. Without
a second's thought, Giles swept the litter of books from the cot he'd
installed sometime after the mummy incident, spread out a blanket, and
motioned Angel towards it. "Put her down here and we'll see what we can do.
Why didn't you take her to a hospital?"

"I didn't feel like explaining the bite marks," Angel replied shortly, all
but dropping the woman to the cot, letting her head fall carelessly and
stepping back fast. In fact, he almost went back out the door in his haste
to get away from her.

Buffy didn't have too much time to wonder about that, though; she was too
busy helping Giles check the woman over. A bad gash on her calf, bleeding,
but not spurting, so probably not an artery. A few smaller gashes on her
arms and other leg, and... yeah, those were bite marks.

"Bite marks?" she repeated out loud, looking over her shoulder at Angel.
"What did she get into?"

"I don't know, and I don't want to know," Angel answered flatly. "I had to
help her, and I did. That's as far into this as I'm getting."

"Buffy, put pressure on the largest wound and hold it," Giles demanded. She
obeyed automatically, replacing his hands with her own. Part of a Watcher's
training was learning to patch up his Slayer, a thought Buffy usually tried
not to dwell on, but was grateful for now. It could be really hard to take
people with fang marks, demon bites, and other kinds of ickies to a
hospital; the explanations got pretty awkward.

"Angel, get the first aid kit from the bottom left drawer of my desk,"
Giles continued, his hands moving quickly and competently over the woman.

Angel took a long moment, but finally obeyed Giles, locating the huge first
aid kit and handing it to the Watcher, who took it without looking up.
Angel retreated back to the doorway and hovered, as if he wanted to leave,
but was being held there. Buffy watched him in fascination until Giles
shoved a thick pad of bandaging into her hand and she was forced to put her
mind back on business.

*****

It took them almost an hour to get the bleeding stopped and the woman's
various wounds bandaged. But finally, Giles turned his back while Buffy
stripped off the bloody remains of the woman's clothing, covered her with a
second blanket, and left the office.

"She should recover well enough," Giles was telling Angel as she closed the
door behind her; the vampire had retreated to the main room a little
earlier, and didn't look as if he particularly cared.  "I suspect she'll be
unconscious for quite some time, though; she seems to have lost a great
deal of blood."

The last was said with an apparently involuntary look towards Angel, who
immediately took a step back, holding his hands up in front of him. "I
don't do that anymore," he said flatly. "You know that. And if I did, she
is absolutely the *last* person I'd have for dinner."

"Want to let us in on the secret?" Buffy lifted her eyebrows at the vampire
when he looked confused. "Who *is* she, Angel? And why bring someone you
obviously don't like here?"

Angel glared towards Giles's office. "I brought her here because I didn't
have any choice. And I don't know her name."

"But you do know her," Giles persisted, crossing his arms over his chest
and calmly staring the vampire down. He wouldn't have been able to do that
few months before, Buffy thought absently. How things changed.

Angel finally nodded. "Yeah. I know her."

After another long pause, Buffy prompted, "And she is...?"

Angel remained stubbornly silent, and Buffy rolled her eyes. "Look, I know
how much you hate to give straight answers, Angel, but I'd really
appreciate at least a hint or something here. Come on," she batted her
eyelashes up at him in a parody of a flirt, "just one little hint? Or am I
going to have to hurt you?"

Angel's mouth twitched in something that might have been a smile, then he
finally answered, "She's Romani."

Giles perked up. "Romani?"

Angel nodded. "Yeah."

"As in, ah...?"

"Yeah."

Buffy groaned mentally in frustration. Angel was back to being cryptic and
monosyllabic; she'd though they'd gotten past this routine. It was going to
be like pulling teeth to find out what the heck was going on. "Okay, so
she's a Romanian and you brought her here," she recapped as cheerfully as
possible. "Why?"

"Romani, and because she told me too."

"Since when do you do what anyone tells you to?" It was an automatic,
teasing question; Buffy wasn't prepared for Angel's violent response.

"Because I didn't have a choice!" he exploded, his arm lashing out to knock
a pile of books off the front counter. They fell to the floor with a crash
and Buffy jumped, shocked. She'd *never* seen Angel lose control before.
Ever. And God knew she'd given him enough provocation. "The damn geas
wouldn't let me leave her there, which is what I should have done!"

Buffy was more confused than ever, but Giles had that, 'Oh, of *course*'
look on his face that was always so annoying. He hadn't even blinked at
Angel's outburst. "Ah," he said slowly, "that would explain it. A
descendent, then?"

Angel got himself back under control with a visible effort, every muscle in
his body tight, and started pacing, his hands deep in his pockets and his
shoulders hunched. "She must be."

"Then why would she come looking for you, given your, ah, hostility towards
her Clan?"

A shrug, and a humorless half-laugh. "Ask her. I don't really care."

"You must have some--"

"Hang on, time out." Buffy stepped between the two, interrupting Giles.
"It's not that I'm sorry you two are like, bonding over this, but I'd
really love to know what 'this' is. What's a, whatdyacallit, gaysh?" she
asked Giles, knowing better than to try to get an answer out of Angel, who
had stalked away and was leaning against a bookcase, radiating total
disinterest.

Giles took off his glasses and started polishing them on the tail of his
sweater vest. "A geas, in this particular circumstance, is a sort of
magical compulsion, laid by a sorcerer or the like. The victim of the geas
can be commanded by the one who cast it."

Romani. Sorcerer. Victim.... Buffy looked at Angel with wide eyes. "She's a
Gypsy? One of *those* Gypsies? The ones who cursed you with your soul?"

Almost as soon as she said the words, she realized they lacked a certain
amount of tact, but Angel didn't seem to notice. "Not one of the elders,
just one of their descendants. The curse carried down, damn them." He said
'curse' as if the word tasted bad, and glared again towards Giles' office.

"Oo-kay." Buffy took a few prudent steps backwards. The demon fighting for
control of Angel wasn't very far beneath the surface tonight. "So, she gets
in some kind of trouble, a fight with something, and comes to you for...
help? Protection? Fill in the blank?"

"I would guess all of the above," Giles filled in obligingly, replacing his
glasses.

"So those were bite marks," Buffy concluded. "But not a vampire's."

"No, not a vampire," Giles agreed. "From the look of her wounds, she was
either attacked by a very large animal or some sort of demon." He stared
off into the distance, still absently fidgeting with his glasses. "The
tooth pattern looked oddly familiar; I'm sure I remember...."

His voice trailed off and Buffy rolled her eyes as he headed for a
bookcase. Research Man had just taken over Giles's brain; he'd be useless
for the rest of the night, conversation-wise, anyway.

Instead of trying to talk to Giles anymore, she carefully approached Angel,
who'd been conspicuously silent for the last part of the conversation. He'd
stopped pacing, and was staring deliberately at the spine of a book,
although Buffy was pretty sure he didn't even see it.

"Angel?"

She thought he was going to ignore her -- his face was hard, blanker than
she'd ever seen it -- but he finally responded. "Yeah?"

Buffy swallowed hard, and laid a hand on the sleeve of his jacket,
half-expecting him to shake it off. He didn't, but his muscles were hard
and tense under her touch. "You could probably go home... or wherever it is
you go at night," she told him quietly. "Giles and I can take care of...
um, her."

He shook his head. "No. Whatever she fought with might try to track her down."

Buffy looked at him sideways. "I'm the Slayer, remember? I can probably
manage to protect one person from a big dog. She'll be safe here."

"I could care less about her," Angel said through gritted teeth. "If I'd
been thinking, I never would have brought her here. And I'm sure as hell
not going to leave you here against whatever might have followed us."

A rush of warm pleasure flooded her veins. She fought to keep it out of her
voice, but suspected she wasn't having much luck. "So, it wouldn't do any
good to tell you I don't need any protection?"

His lips twitched in what might have been a smile. "No."

"Oh well." She sighed heavily, as if handed a great burden she would carry
bravely. "I guess we'll just have to put up with each other for a while,
then. But don't worry, somehow we'll get through it."

That did the job. Angel rolled his eyes, then reluctantly cracked the
crooked half-smile that always made Buffy's heart skip a beat. "It'll be
torture," he agreed, pulling her into his arms and resting his cheek on top
of her head, "but we'll survive."

Buffy grinned against his jacket and put her arms around his waist, holding
him. He was still tense, wired, and Buffy tightened her hold, offering what
comfort she could and vowing all kinds of ugly revenge against the Gypsy
stranger if she was here to hurt Angel.

- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Perri <[e-mail]>      I *am* the Buffy Evangalist!
NatPacker-*-Horsechick-*-Pezhead-*-Cohenhead-*-DDEB2-*-AGA-*-SunS-*-CoJ
"You borrow my neurons WITHOUT asking, mind you, and then you get them all
gooky with Dru-stuff.  See if I let you borrow anything of mine again."
- -- Lizbet



- -

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

Date: Sun, 18 Jan 1998 00:11:51 -0600 (CST)
From: [e-mail] (Perri Smith)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Ill Met By Moonlight, Part 4 of 19

See disclaimer in part one. Compliments accepted/enjoyed/ignored at
[e-mail].

*****

Ill Met By Moonlight (4/19)
by Perri Smith
Copyright 1998

Chapter 3

They jumped apart at the crash of someone hitting the library doors at top
speed, as two panting teenagers raced into the room. "Buffy! Giles!" Xander
shouted, before realizing Buffy was standing about six feet away. He
skidded to a halt, and Willow almost ran him over from behind before she,
too, realized they were stopping and stopped.

Buffy might have laughed if they didn't both look so panicked, and if
Willow didn't look faintly green. "What is it?" she demanded, leaving Angel
to go to her friends. "What's going on?"

Come to think of it, Xander looked pretty green, as well. But he seemed to
be ignoring it in favor of looking past her at Angel. "Does he have an
actual reason for being here?"

"Yes, he does," Buffy answered before Angel could say anything, hoping to
head off the macho contest before it could get started.  Old habits died
hard, and the two of them in the same room was just *asking* for trouble.
"What's the sitch? You two look like..."

"Like we just saw something really disgusting?" Xander filled in for her.
"Well, that would be because we did. What was left of it, anyway."

"Left of it?" Buffy asked carefully, *really* sure she wasn't going to like
the answer. "Are we, um, talking bodies here? And, um, plural or singular?"

"It was kinda hard to tell," Xander said, heavy sarcasm almost covering up
the sick terror in his eyes. "We couldn't get close enough to count the
parts."

"Xander," Willow objected faintly.

Xander looked down at her face, which had turned a lovely shade of
chartreuse, and winced. "Sorry, Will. Look, sit down already, will you?" He
helped Willow to one of the seats around the main table, the one Buffy had
abandoned at Angel's abrupt arrival, and turned back to Buffy as she
brought over a cup of water for Willow.

"What happened?" Buffy asked again as Willow gratefully sipped at the
water. "Where was it and what did you see?"

"A few blocks outside the Bronze," Willow answered between sips. "Oh,
Buffy, it was really awful. As bad as... as bad as that morning."

Buffy laid a hand on the redhead's shoulder. Finding the blood-soaked
bodies of their classmates in the A/V room at the school had really messed
with Willow's mind. If this, whatever it was, was going to bring those
memories back, Buffy had every intention of stopping it fast.

"Breathe, Will," she said gently. "Xander, you tell me. In chronological
order and words of three syllables or less."

"Right." He swallowed hard and sat on the edge of the table by Willow.
Buffy sensed Angel still standing behind her, lending silent support as
Xander took a deep breath. "Okay. We were at the Bronze, and it was getting
late, so we were going to leave. We started for the door, and that's when
someone started screaming."

"Screaming?" Giles reappeared from the stacks with a book in his hand,
drawn by one of the magic words. 'Corpse', 'vampire', and 'dead' had the
same effect. Buffy shushed him with a gesture, not taking her eyes off
Xander.

"We went to find out what was going on -- just in case it was, um,
Slayer-type stuff." Buffy nodded encouragingly and he stumbled on. "Um,
there was a girl outside, um, I think she's in history with us, and she was
standing outside the Bronze -- over on the side, where the fire escape is
- -- screaming. And, um, on the ground there was, um...."

He stumbled to a halt, swallowing hard again, and Willow shivered. Buffy
stole a quick glance at Giles, who looked as disturbed as she felt. Willow
and Xander weren't exactly unused to seeing the remains of what vampires
and other assorted bad guys left behind. For them to be this grossed out
meant something really bad.

Angel leaned forward, bracing his hands on the table. "Take it slow," he
advised Xander. "One step at a time. What was the first thing you saw?"

Angel's matter-of-fact tone seemed to have a steadying effect on Xander,
oddly enough. "The blood," he said quietly. "All over the place. And a
body. It looked like..." He shuddered once, hard. "It looked like that pig
after we... the hyenas got done with it. Only bigger."

Buffy raised her eyebrows; this was the first she'd heard of any of
Xander's memories of his animal possession coming back. But it would
explain why he was reacting so majorly to this. "An animal attack, then? A
pack of dogs, maybe?"

Angel shook his head at the same time that Giles said, "No, there would
have been much more noise, more confusion. A pack in a feeding frenzy is
not exactly quiet, as you know." Xander winced and Giles gave him an
apologetic look.

"What then?" Buffy mused, leaning her hip against the table. "Demon?
*Really* sloppy vampire?"

"I don't know," Giles said slowly. "But I'm going to take a wild leap of
logic and guess that it's related to whatever attacked our, ah, guest."

Buffy blinked. "Oh. Yeah, that would make sense, wouldn't it?"

Angel nodded. "I found her near the Bronze. She must have gotten away from
whatever this is, and it found a new victim."

"Guest?" Xander asked, distracted at last. "We have a guest?"

"To be precise, Angel has a guest," Giles clarified, coming over to the
table. Angel glared at him, but didn't otherwise argue the point. "One with
injuries which would seem to match what you've described. Buffy, I think
you'll have to take a closer look at the, ah, scene."

He didn't sound happy about it, but then, Buffy wasn't real thrilled at the
prospect either. "Right," she sighed, straightening. "You guys stay here
and watch her." She gestured towards Giles's office and the woman. "I'll go
check out the scene at the Bronze."

She started for the door, and Angel caught her arm. He looked from her to
Giles' office, obviously torn between protecting her and his conviction
that the whatever it was would follow the Gypsy back to the library.

"Angel, you stay here and guard the others, okay?" He looked like he would
argue, but Buffy didn't let him, or either of the other two males, get a
word in. "I'm going to the Bronze. See you guys in a few."

*****

The Bronze was surrounded by people -- a few police officers, an ambulance,
and several small knots of onlookers, drawn to the scene of disaster like
moths to a flame. Buffy wrinkled her nose in their general direction, then
did her best to look like one of them, squirming through the crowds to get
a decent look at the center of activity.

"Color me so surprised. Wherever there's a disgusting body, you're bound to
show up."

Buffy groaned mentally and closed her eyes, then turned to face Cordelia.
"Good to see you, too, Cordelia," she said with a tight, completely
insincere smile. The two of them understood each other perfectly. "I don't
suppose you saw what happened, or have anything useful to tell me?"

Cordelia's snide look changed to genuine disturbance; she bit her lip and
determinedly did not look towards the crowd. "No, and believe me, I'm
grateful I got left out of this one. It sounds like more... parts are
involved, and I really don't want to go there again."

"Then you might want to get out of here," Buffy told her. She started
shoving again, then paused. "Cordelia."

"What?"

"Go straight home, and don't go out at night for a while. I have a feeling
this isn't the last body we're going to see."

She didn't wait for Cordelia's reaction, but methodically pushed her way to
the front of the crowd. The medics were working in a large pool of blood to
deal with the body -- or what was left of it. Buffy swallowed hard, but
forced herself to get as close as she could.

Curly, dark blond hair, matted with blood and other things Buffy didn't
want to think about. What had once been nice party clothes, now torn into
rags. Skin ripped and torn beneath them, showing muscle and even bare white
bones in places. Neck marked not with the neat holes of a vampire, but
nearly ripped apart.

And that long, tangled blond hair, surrounding a face that simply wasn't
there anymore.

The medics finished moving the body into a heavy black bag and zipped it
up, and Buffy allowed herself to turn away as the crowd dispersed. Cordelia
herded her group of hangers-on back into the club, casually remarking on
how out of it the scene was; gratefully, Buffy saw most of the rest of the
teenage crowd follow Cordy's lead and leave. The Goth and gore crowds still
hung around, but they could be avoided, and normally were.

Buffy worked her way carefully around the small knot of uniformed cops and
the detectives who had shown up at the same time the body left, hoping no
one would notice one more teenager hanging around. Angel said the Gypsy
woman had come running out of the alley, which was right behind where the
body had been laying.

She went into the alley cautiously, not feeling any safer for the four
dozen police officers a few feet away. Nothing jumped out of the shadows at
her, nothing came down from the sky, and she relaxed a bit, getting down to
business.

Not that there was much to get down to. The alley looked like... well, an
alley. Garbage cans, a couple of boxes dissolving in puddles from last
night's rain, the sloppy pile of the boards and planks that always seem to
show up in alleys for no apparent reason... Her eyes narrowed suddenly, and
she knelt next to a two-by-four that lay several feet away from the rest of
the wood.

Bloody fingerprints all over the bottom and at the top... a tuft of coarse,
dark gray hair, caught on the rough-cut end. No, fur, she corrected
herself, pulling it free. Fur with a patch of skin and some blood still
attached. Either the Gypsy girl or the dead one had fought back.

"Hey!" She jumped, nearly falling over, as the harsh voice spoke behind
her. A high-beam flashlight caught her in the face as she turned, barely
able to make out the form of the cop holding it.

"Don't you kids ever pay attention?" he demanded irritably. "This is a
crime scene, you little ghoul. Find somewhere else to play."

Buffy fisted her hand around the fur casually. "Sorry, officer," she
apologized. "I thought I saw, um, a cat. In here. Alone."

"Yeah, right." He made a disgusted noise and gestured with the flashlight.
"Go. Now."

She smiled innocently. "Going, officer. Now."

Edging past him, she attempted an innocent walk, but still felt his stare
on her as she headed out of the alley and back towards the school. Funny,
though; if she didn't know better, she'd swear she felt more than one set
of eyes.

- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Perri <[e-mail]>      I *am* the Buffy Evangalist!
NatPacker-*-Horsechick-*-Pezhead-*-Cohenhead-*-DDEB2-*-AGA-*-SunS-*-CoJ
"You borrow my neurons WITHOUT asking, mind you, and then you get them all
gooky with Dru-stuff.  See if I let you borrow anything of mine again."
- -- Lizbet



- -

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

Date: Sun, 18 Jan 1998 00:12:38 -0600 (CST)
From: [e-mail] (Perri Smith)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Ill Met By Moonlight, Part 5 of 19

See disclaimer in part one. Compliments accepted/enjoyed/ignored at
[e-mail].

*****

Ill Met By Moonlight (5/19)
by Perri Smith
Copyright 1998

Part 4

When she returned to the library, Angel was pacing tensely back and forth
near the front doors. He stopped as soon as she came in, relief spreading
over his face. "What took so long?" he demanded, taking her arm and
inspecting her.

"Sorry, Dad," she said archly, "I had to wait for the crowds to die down
before I could get anything done. Not that I got much anyway; the police
were like, everywhere. For once."

"What did you find?" Giles asked, looking up from a stack of books. Willow
and Xander were nowhere to be seen. "Were there any signs of, well, things
that shouldn't have been there?"

"This is Sunnydale," Buffy told him. "Name three things that aren't
supposed to be here. I did find this."

She pulled the tuft of fur out of her pocket and held it out to Giles, who
left his chair to come see. He took it and headed straight to the
magnifying glass for a closer look, fussing with his glasses as he went.

"You didn't see anything else?" Angel persisted, looking all cute and worried.

Buffy resisted the urge to pat him on the head and assured him, "Nothing
scary, nothing furry, just a corpse and Cordelia. Which is actually kind of
scary combination, if you think about it."

He rolled his eyes in automatic agreement and lightened up a little,
letting his hand slide down her arm to take her hand. She squeezed his and
grinned up at him. It was good to have him around, even if the
circumstances were bad, as usual.

"Where are Will and Xander?" she thought to ask. "You didn't let them go
home alone, did you?"

"Willow's mother came to get them; Xander told her Willow was sick. Which
she was." His grip tightened on her hand again, but his voice was
matter-of-fact as he asked, "How bad was it?"

"Pretty bad," she admitted, suppressing a shudder. "Right down there with
harvested organs and body parts in the dumpster. Major ick factor."

"I would imagine so," Giles said from the other side of the room, still
staring intently through the magnifying glass. "Buffy, where did you locate
this, ah, fur?"

Buffy wandered over to his side. Angel followed closely, looking over her
shoulder as she looked over Giles's. "It was stuck on a hunk of wood, in
the alley. There was blood on the other end, fingerprints. I figure someone
got a few good hits in before they got, um, main coursed."

Angel winced at her choice of words, but Giles didn't seem to notice. "It's
some sort of animal fur, which matches with the teeth marks and the bite
radius. In fact, at this point, I'd say we're looking for a... Well, a
large....  Enormous, really...."

Buffy lost patience with the stuttering. "Giles, spit it out."

He took off his glasses and cleaned them, the way he did when he was about
to say something no one wanted to hear. "I'd... say it was rather a large,
well, wolf."

Buffy looked at him. "Large as in Cujo?"

Giles shook his head. "Large as in a lion."

"No. Large as in a human."

Buffy and Giles all turned quickly at the voice behind them, Buffy making a
few rude mental comments about being sneaked up on. Angel didn't even
flinch.

The young Gypsy woman stood in the doorway of Giles's office, leaning
heavily against the doorjamb and swaying slightly in place. Her round,
high-cheeked face was drawn with pain and exhaustion, her skin pale beneath
its tan, but she seemed determined to stay upright, and her dark brown,
vaguely almond-shaped eyes rested on Angel with fear and something just
short of open disgust. Buffy's hackles rose immediately.

Giles spent another moment blinking, which he was doing a lot tonight, then
went back across the room to lend the woman an arm. "You should not be up,"
he informed her severely. "You're quite badly injured."

She didn't move. "I had noticed that. Where am I?"

"Safe," Buffy answered promptly, stepping between Angel and the woman.
"Angel brought you to us."

"Now *that's* reassuring," the woman muttered, saccharine sweet, with
another glare towards Angel.

He returned it full measure. "You don't want me to help, don't collapse at
my feet and tell me to. Next time, I'll leave you there."

"Believe me, I would've preferred that, given any other choice," she
informed him. "You are *not* my idea of a prince in shining armor."

"That's a relief."

"More like a toad. With fangs."

"Um, guys?" Buffy found herself standing between the two combatants. "Can
we save the scintillating repartee for later? I'd kind of like to know
what's going on *before* you two kill each other. Who are you?" she asked
the woman.

"Alexandra Lakatos," the woman answered, after a last glare at Angel. "Call
me Sasha."

"Cool, we have a name. Names are good. I'm Buffy and this is Giles, and I,
um, think you know Angel."

"We've never been formally introduced." Sasha flashed a toothy, insincere
smile Angel's way. "But yes, I know him."

"Let's skip the formal part," Angel told her. "What are you doing here, and
what do the Romani want from me this time?"

She gave an exaggerated wince. "Almost a hundred years, and you still can't
pronounce Romani. Accent on the *first* syllable, damn it."

"Sorry."

"You should be."

"Drop dead."

"Oh, you *wish*."

"I hate to interrupt this love fest...." Buffy jumped back in the middle
when both parties looked ready to go for each other's throats. Sasha seemed
to have forgotten all about her wounds, leaning forward with her eyes
glittering and hard. Angel's jaw was so tight it looked painful, his fists
clenched. Giles, the coward, was staying as far out of the line of fire as
he could while half-supporting Sasha.

Buffy looked back and forth between them, baffled. What the hell *was*
this; not even Xander could get Angel this mad. "I'm sensing some hostility
here," she said as calmly as possible. "What is *with* you two? Besides the
obvious, I mean."

"He's a vampire," Sasha snarled, at the same time Angel growled, "She's Rom."

"Of course, that clears it right up, thanks." Buffy breathed out hard and
glared at *both* of them. "A frustrated Slayer is a cranky Slayer," she
informed them icily, "and if I don't get some answers, I'm going to get
*really* cranky. You don't want that," she told Sasha, "and you *really*
don't want that," to Angel.

Neither of them looked particularly impressed. Then Sasha finally processed
the threat and its lead-in, and looked wide-eyed at Buffy. "Waitaminute.
You're the *Slayer*?"

Buffy thought back, realized what she'd said, and sighed. "I should take
out an ad in the yearbook, and save time. Yeah, I'm the Slayer."

Sasha studied her up and down, then turned painfully to Giles. "Which would
make you her Watcher, correct?"

Giles nodded, looking unhappy about yet another blowing of their collective
secret identity, but resigned to it. "Correct."

"In other words," Sasha said slowly, "a vampire took a Gypsy to a Slayer
and a Watcher for help against a werewolf?" When the other three nodded
more-or-less as one, she started chuckling, holding her ribs in pain. "I
think that breaks most of the laws of magic. And all of the laws of
Nature."

Giles rolled his eyes to the ceiling, and Angel made a sound that was
something between a snort and a reluctant chuckle, looking away.

Buffy groaned and sat down on the center table. "I'm missing some major
mystical in-jokes here again, aren't I?" She shook her head, then looked
up. "How do you know about Slayers?"

Sasha shrugged, and looked like she regretted it; pain flashed across her
face. "I didn't *know* anything, just stories my grandmother tells. A
couple of Slayers have been Rom, according to her; I figured she'd been
reading too much Bram Stoker. Joy, she's proven right again."

"We've established you're a fount of knowledge on Slayers," Angel got the
conversation back on track icily. "What do you know about werewolves?"

Sasha flinched, her mocking grin falling away. "Too much," she answered, so
quietly Buffy almost couldn't make out the words.

"Then... Then it *isn't* a normal wolf... a normal creature?" Giles
stuttered slightly, his eyes lighting up with his usual reaction to
anything new and exciting. Never mind that his definition of exciting
tended to be everyone else's definition of 'Ew'. "You're certain of that?"

"Reasonably," Sasha answered dryly, rubbing the bandage on her arm. "He...
*It* followed me here from down the coast, last night and most of today.
Not normal behavior for a wolf, as far as I know." She shrugged, and winced
again as the movement pulled at various wounds. "I thought I'd ditched it,
but I turned around in that alley and...." She rubbed the bandage again,
struggling for control of her face. Buffy couldn't blame her; the thought
of facing the creature that had killed that girl was enough to give *Buffy*
the wig.

"You fought it?" Buffy asked, trying to ignore the hostility radiating from
Angel. It wasn't easy. "With that two-by-four?"

Sasha nodded tiredly, her balance looking shakier by the second. "Yeah. I
knocked it silly for a second, then ran before it could get back up. "

"Way to go," Angel informed the Gypsy harshly. "When it missed you, it
killed another girl instead."

Sasha's face went paler, if possible, and staggered against Giles, who
somehow managed to hold her up. "Oh, Christ," she swore softly, squeezing
her eyes shut. "Oh damn, not another one. Oh Christ....." Giles patted her
shoulder awkwardly, but she didn't seem to notice he was there.

"Nice job," Buffy informed Angel, not sure who she as more annoyed with.
"Way to pick on the walking wounded. Want to go beat up some orphans now?"

He didn't look the slightest bit guilty. "Ask the 'walking wounded' why the
werewolf's after her," he said coldly. "Ask her what it wants."

Buffy stared at him for a second, irritation fighting with curiosity and
suspicion, then transferred her stare to Sasha. "What *does* it want?" she
asked.

She might have imagined Sasha's hesitation, before she answered bitterly,
"It wants to kill. It wants blood, and it doesn't care whose it gets."

It was as good an answer as any. But Sasha wasn't meeting anyone's eyes,
and Angel looked as coldly disbelieving as Buffy felt. There was more to
this....

- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Perri <[e-mail]>      I *am* the Buffy Evangalist!
NatPacker-*-Horsechick-*-Pezhead-*-Cohenhead-*-DDEB2-*-AGA-*-SunS-*-CoJ
"You borrow my neurons WITHOUT asking, mind you, and then you get them all
gooky with Dru-stuff.  See if I let you borrow anything of mine again."
- -- Lizbet



- -

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

Date: Sun, 18 Jan 1998 11:40:04 -0800
From: John & Barbie <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: unsubscribe Buffy

Please unsubscribe Buffy fic

Thankyou



- -

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

Date: Sun, 18 Jan 1998 16:47:01 EST
From: [e-mail] (Ingrid E Stanton)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "One Vampire's Headache..." (1/?)

OK. First things firstà
DISCLAIMER: The characters of Buffy Sommers,
Spike, Drusilla, Angel(us) & company are the property
of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Sandollar Productions,
and The Warner Brothers Network, and are used without
permission. The author claims no rights to these characters.

*SuMmArY, iNtRoDuCtIoN, & WhAtEvEr ElSe YoU wAnT tO cAlL iT...*
This is going to be a long story. ThatÆs if I ever get to finish
it. Free time is highly underrated. Placing King Lear aside for
the moment, IÆve written the first part of this story, at least. I
place this after "Bad Eggs," and obviously before whatever
Joss has in store for us with this steamy-looking episode
coming up. IÆm sure this story wonÆt jive at all with that, so
allow me my alternate reality, sÆil vous plait! Basically,
without giving too much away, this is a story regarding a
romance respite for Angel & Buffy, Drusilla craziness, Spike
weakness & annoyance, and various other vampire legend. IÆve
set this up in an episode format, so first weÆll hear from the
villains, and then from the "good guys."

And now, without further boring commentary, on with the story!!!


*****
"One VampireÆs Headache..."  Part the Firstà
*****

Spike woke up feeling faint. He was tucked into the covers of an
unfamiliar bed. What kind of covers were these? He felt
restrained by themà Had someone captured him? Impossible.
What would anyone want with a vampire? Was he dead? This
didnÆt look like the traditional concept of hell. Then where the
bloody blazes AM I, he screamed silently, railing against the
oppressive covers.
    He didnÆt move. What were these made of? Iron? As
hard as he pushed, he couldnÆt move an inch. Out of sheer
frustration, he let out a child-like cry. Seconds later, he heard
footsteps approaching. A familiar dark-haired woman watched
him with delighted surprise. Instead of the usual white baby-doll
frills, the vampire wore high boots, a short skirt, and a tank top,
all black. Her long hair was piled on top of her head in a loose
flipped bun, tiny wisps framing her face. Her already large eyes
grew wider as she saw him struggle against the sheets.

"Dru! What am I doing here? WhatÆs going on?"

She touched his head gently. "Calm yourself, moppet. YouÆre very weak,
and you shouldnÆt be movinÆ about."

"What happened, Dru?"

"You mean you donÆt remember?"

"I remember the ritual for you and Angelus, and then I remember that
bloody slayer cominÆ in and wreckinÆ it all up."

"The building collapsed on you, love. I got you out from under the
organ."

"That Damned Slayer! She has to ruin all our fun."

"But she didnÆt, Spike."

"What do ya mean, Princess?"

"IÆm strong again, Spike, see?"

With a single hand, the slight girl lifted Spike several feet into the
air. She held him there for a moment, smiling straight into his eyes. He
only stared back in astonishment, his mind reeling to absorb the events
that had transpired while he lay in unconsciousness. She gave a delighted
giggle as she lowered Spike back down to the bed.

"Have something to eat, my pet." She threw him a terrified looking
teenage boy with bonds restraining his hands, feet and mouth. "WeÆre
going to get that Slayer, and Angelus too, Spike."

Spike barely felt the hunger, but being in somewhat of a stupor, his face
automatically changed, and he weakly sunk his teeth into the innocentÆs
neck.
****

- -

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

Date: Mon, 19 Jan 1998 06:03:07 -0500
From: "Andrew Weitzman" <[e-mail]>
Subject: Re: BUFFYFIC: "A Truth Worse Than Lies" -- 12/12

- ----------
> From: Dianne la Mercenaire <[e-mail]>
> Yes, tonight they would leave. With distance perhaps Drusilla could
> learn to read her visions, _use_ them.
>
> And the next time... the next time they crossed paths with a Slayer,
> he would hand his Princess her head on a silver _plate_.
>


   [shudder]  A finely crafted tragedy you have here, Dianne.  There's
poetry--dark poetry, of course--in the way the Angelus of this story
destroyed the Slayer that era.  I also loved the manner in which you
explained the deep love Spike and Drusilla had for each other, despite
their demonic natures.  The cause of Dru's madness was a particularly nice
touch.

   BTW--I thought you captured the tone of the period very well.  The
dialogue of the nuns of the convent seemed quite true to life; they
appeared to me like curious crows perched along a stone wall.

_______
Andrew Weitzman  [e-mail]
Beware the Fluffy Threat(tm)! Get the truth at
http://www.devilbunnies.org/
"Oh, good.  The feeble-banter portion of the fight" The Master. "Buffy the
Vampire Slayer"



- -

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

Date: Mon, 19 Jan 1998 05:24:18 -0500
From: "Andrew Weitzman" <[e-mail]>
Subject: Re: BUFFYFIC: "Return to Normalcy" (3/3)

- ----------
> From: Ingrid E Stanton <[e-mail]>
>
> But more than this relief was those wonderful feelings inside
> him. Deep care for the woman lying next to him. Deep care and
> love?
>
> Miss. Calendar awoke slowly, awoken by a gentle touch on her
> back. She lifted her heavy eyelids to see Rupert watching over
> her.
>
> A slow smile spread across her face.
>
> "Good Morning England."
> ****
>
> Whadaya think? Please, please send some feedback. I cannot live on posts
> alone.

    [grin]  I liked it.  A lot.  Good pacing and a strong sense of
character.  Vignettes likes this are among my favorite forms of fanfic; it
allows fans to experience the "in-between" moments not covered by the
series.

_______
Andrew Weitzman  [e-mail]
Beware the Fluffy Threat(tm)! Get the truth at
http://www.devilbunnies.org/
"Oh, good.  The feeble-banter portion of the fight" The Master. "Buffy the
Vampire Slayer"





- -

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

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