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Buffyfic-digest       Tuesday, January 20 1998       Volume 01 : Number 089



In this issue:

       BUFFYFIC: Ill Met By Moonlight, Part 10 of 19
       BUFFYFIC: Ill Met By Moonlight, part 11 of 19
       BUFFYFIC: DISCUSS: "One Vampire's Headache..."
       BUFFYFIC: DISCUSS: Ill Met BY Moonlight, Part 9 of 19
       BUFFYFIC: Request for missing digests
       Re: BUFFYFIC: DISCUSS: Ill Met BY Moonlight, Part 9 of 19
       BUFFYFIC: Mental Wanderings
       BUFFYFIC: Hard Choices (1/1)
       BUFFYFIC: Ill Met By Moonlight, Part 12

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: Mon, 19 Jan 1998 22:36:55 -0600 (CST)
From: [e-mail] (Perri Smith)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Ill Met By Moonlight, Part 10 of 19

See standard disclaimer in part 1. Comments.compliments/flames
accepted/enjoyed/ignored at [e-mail]

Ill Met By Moonlight (10/19)
Bu Perri Smith
Copyright 1998

Part 9

"Xander!" Willow's eyes went wide as the hunters walked back into the
library. They made a pretty wigworthy sight, Buffy admitted. She was
covered with grass and dirt, her jeans ripped and stained with blood. Angel
didn't look much better, and Xander already had a good-sized lump coming up
on his forehead, combined with the torn windbreaker and bloody arm. He was
walking alone -- just barely, but he'd refused to let Buffy or, God forbid,
Angel help him.

Sasha was the least messed-up, but was pale as a ghost, walking behind the
others like she was in a dream and not really registering anything around
her. She hadn't spoken since Buffy had bullied her close enough to reality
to say the words to make her hands stop burning; she didn't even seem to
notice that Angel was walking within a few feet of her.

Willow rushed to Xander's side, and he, suddenly playing the wounded hero
for all he was worth, let her put her arm around his waist, leading him to
the table so he could sit down. Cordelia stared at him from her seat on the
other side of the table, the compact case she'd been using to admire
herself dangling, forgotten, from one hand. "What happened to you?" she
demanded snidely. "Did Buffy finally get tired of the drooling and beat you
up?"

Xander didn't bother to look at her. "Buffy doesn't beat up on us humans,
but I'm thinking about asking her to make an exception in your case."

Cordelia made a face at him, but no comeback; she might actually be a
little worried. Giles had gone for the seriously-depleted first aid kit as
soon as they'd walked in, and brought it over to Xander now, after asking
Buffy, "You're all right?"

"Hunky-dory," she shrugged, although her leg was starting to hurt as the
adrenaline wore off. "Take care of Xander."

"I'm fine," Xander protested. Everyone up to and including Willow rolled
their eyes at his ridiculous protest; he shut up and let Giles start
cleaning up his forehead. Angel helped Buffy sit on the table, kneeling at
her feet to start peeling her jeans away from the claw marks.

"At least they hit you in the head, Xander" Cordelia commented, watching
both processes with interest. Was that a little concern lurking behind the
above-it-all expression? "It's not like that can do any further damage."

Xander opened his mouth to say something that would be possibly devastating
and certainly rude; Giles spoke before he could. "Cordelia, please go get
some paper towels and water from the lavatory. We're going to need them."

"When did I become a nurse?" she muttered in annoyance, but obeyed, letting
the doors swing shut behind her with a flourish as she Made An Exit.

Buffy watched her go, mildly baffled. "What's Cordy doing here, anyway?"

Giles concentrated on the claw marks on Xander's biceps, which looked
painful, but not too serious. Willow hovered over both of them, trying to
be helpful and mostly just blocking Giles's light. "She arrived a few
minutes after the four of you left; something about bodies at the Bronze
and deciding this was the safest place to be. She was actually quite useful
for a short while, doing research."

Buffy's eyebrows went up. "Wow. Cordelia being useful. Concept."

"Indeed." Xander jumped and yelped as Giles did something painful; Giles
waited for him to settle back down, then kept inspecting. "These were
claws, not teeth?" he asked.

"I'm not going to ask how you can tell the difference," Buffy said,
wrinkling her nose, "but yeah, it was claws. If he didn't bite us, then
we're not, like, gonna start growing fur at the next full moon or anything,
right?"

"I shouldn't think so. Traditionally, it is the bite that is contagious,
and I'm not sure if even that would apply in this situation, as we're
dealing with a curse rather than a true case of lycanthropy."

"Sasha?" Buffy turned to the Gypsy, who was standing next to the library
counter as if she just didn't feel up to the effort of moving. "Sasha?"
Buffy repeated, trying to get her attention.

Sasha blinked. "What? Oh, claws." She frowned, almost focusing, her voice
still not-quite-there. "I don't think this is contagious -- it's my curse,
so I decide who turns were, and I don't think I'd like Xander with that
much fur."

"Thank you, I think," Xander told her, obviously unsure whether or not he'd
just been insulted. Sasha didn't appear to hear; she'd drifted off back
into her own little world, walking vaguely past the Slayerettes into
Giles's office.

Giles watched her with a baffled expression. "Is she, ah....?"

Buffy shook her head. "She didn't get hurt, I think she just freaked
herself. Giles... her *hands* were on fire."

Giles's eyebrows went up. "Ah. Interesting. Then the spells did work."

"Not the first one," Angel contributed. He'd had to use scissors to cut the
leg of Buffy's jeans; they finally pulled loose from the blood and she
hissed at the sting. "Sorry," he apologized, folding the material out of
way before he stood and hugged her shoulders carefully, pressing his lips
to the top of her head. The pain faded miraculously away at the unusual
public display of affection, even when he knelt again to probe gently at
the gashes on her leg. Buffy looked down and grimaced. She and Sasha
matched now. Faboo.

"She tried something when the wolf first went for her, but it didn't work
," Angel continued as he worked. "She couldn't do anything until Xander got
knocked cold--"

"--I was not out cold!" Xander protested instantly. "I just.. needed a
second. To get my balance."

"Right." Angel obviously wasn't buying it for a second, which was okay,
since no one else was either. Xander slouched down again, muttering under
his breath, as Angel and Buffy continued to fill the other two in on their
'adventure'. Cordelia reappeared before they were finished, bearing a
double handful of wet paper towels, held carefully away from her clothing.
Willow helped Angel clean Buffy up, while Cordelia took over handing things
to Dr. Giles.

"Do you think the werewolf will come back tonight?" Willow asked,
concentrating intently on cutting tape to precisely the correct length. "I
mean, you hurt it pretty bad, right?"

"Oh, yeah," Buffy confirmed, wincing; school paper towels weren't exactly
gentle on the skin. "He headed for the hills, literally; we won't hear any
more from him tonight. I hope."

"Just in case, I'll going to go out later and keep an eye on things," Angel
volunteered, starting to tape the neat bandage in place. He was tense
still, carefully not looking anywhere near Giles's office, where Sasha was
still hiding.

"I'll go with you," Buffy told him, hopping down off the table. Pain shot
instantly through her leg and she winced. Angel's arm was there to lower
her down into a chair. "Or maybe not," she admitted.

"I can handle it," he told her with a wry half-grin, that turned angry
again. "As long as the witch in there doesn't decide to tag along."

Speaking of whom... Buffy looked through the open doorway of the office,
seeing Sasha sitting on the edge of the cot, completely still. There were
bloodstains on her clothes from Xander and Buffy, but no blood in her face.
Her eyes were someplace far away and not particularly pleasant.

Giles followed Buffy's gaze, and his brows furrowed. "She looks, ah, rather
upset," he stated the obvious.

"Thank you, Counselor Troi," Buffy said, rolling her eyes. "And she should.
She almost got Xander killed tonight." Xander opened his mouth to object;
Buffy glared at him and he shut up. "Not to mention the rest of us."

"Be that as it may," Giles said, "it sounds as if she came through in time.
And we will need her full assistance tomorrow night, if we are to face the
werewolf again. Perhaps someone should go talk to her."

He looked around for a volunteer; Buffy lifted her hands fast. "Not me.
I've had just about all I can take of Gypsies tonight."

Xander echoed the sentiment, Willow looked panicked at the very thought,
Angel's face went extremely blank and Cordelia looked up with an expert 'as
*if*' look. Giles sighed, took a last dab at Xander's forehead, and handed
the towel he was using to Willow.  "Fine. I'll do it. It's not as if I
haven't had the practice lately." He headed for his office, muttering
something under his breath about 'dealing with overly-talented teenagers
and their crises" as he went.

Buffy watched him go with a grin. Then Cordelia suddenly blinked and sat up
straight. "Werewolf? There's a werewolf? When did that happen?"

Angel chuckled slightly, Willow and Buffy rolled their eyes at each other,
and Xander gave a disgusted snort, before they started filling Cordelia in
on the gory details. Again.

*****

Sasha stared down at her hands, spread out in the air in front of her, and
moved them slightly. Back and forth, up and down, tilting them and turning
them. They were her hands, real enough; she could feel them move, touch the
skin and feel the sensation. But they didn't look like her hands anymore.

They weren't the same hands that clutched a pencil to get down every word
the torts professor said. Not the same hands that typed briefs and term
papers and looked up Supreme Court decisions. Not the same hands that had
groomed her grandfather's horses and done the dishes in the sink and gotten
cut up on her car's engine changing the oil.

These hands belonged to someone who could call fire from out of thin air,
who could cast a curse and see the results in the eyes of a man-sized wolf.
Who could cause five deaths, and nearly one more, without getting even a
smear of someone else's blood on her fingertips.

She closed her eyes and pressed her fists to them until colors rose and
danced before her vision, not wanting to see any more. Not wanting to
wonder who those hands belonged to, if they weren't hers.

"Miss Lakatos?" It took a second for the cautious voice to penetrate
through her daze; she fought it, not wanting to deal with anything close to
reality. Reality was a little too much to handle right now.

"Miss Lakatos." He wasn't going away. She blinked and slowly focused; it
took a huge effort to lift her head enough to meet Giles's eyes. His face
was gentle and quite nervous, as if he was dealing with a very large bomb
that could go off at any second. Sasha didn't blame him; she felt close to
exploding.

"How's Xander?" Her voice sounded odd, and she forced a sickly smile.

"Oh, he'll.. He'll be fine," Giles stuttered. "How are you?"

She shrugged. "Oh... fine. My hands lit on fire, I've been attacked by a
horror movie twice in two days, five people are dead because of me and I
almost raised the count to six. I'm doing just dandy."

"Ah." Giles nodded wisely. "I, ah, have been wanting to apologize to you,
actually. I... was rather harsh this afternoon, when you told us of your...
situation. I.. should not have been."

"Yes, you should have. You were right. I was stupid." She stared straight
ahead, sightless. "Those girls are dead because I was stupid. Kriston's
wife is dead. Two of my clan.... Did I tell you he came after me, that
first night? Two of my clan died trying to keep him out of camp. That's why
I ran. I ran away and I brought him here... so he could kill those girls,
and try to kill Xander."

Her eyes were dry and burning as she raised her hands again, as if
displaying them. "Blood and fire. That's all these are good for anymore,
blood and fire."

"That's enough." Giles's voice was a whipcrack, cutting through the haze of
self-pity and self-disgust. She blinked up at him with surprise, the world
clearing a little. "You made a mistake, true enough, but sitting in here
feeling sorry for yourself is not going to help correct it. The powers you
used to create this monster can also be used to fight it, and that is what
you must do."

His eyes softened slightly, his voice gentling a bit. "I understand that
you are tired, and injured, and frightened. But you are not alone. We chose
to help you -- Xander chose to help you -- knowing full well the possible
consequences."

"I didn't mean to do this, Giles." Sasha sounded like a little girl, even
to her own ears, and the Watcher's face softened even further.

"I understand. Believe me, I do understand. I..." He broke off, then seemed
to come to a decision. "When I was very near your age, I... made much the
same mistake you did. I meddled carelessly with very dark powers and called
a demon to life. That demon, that mistake, cost me the life of one of my
closest friends and, not too long ago, nearly cost me Buffy's life, and
that of someone I... care very deeply for."

Sasha bit her lip, both scared and strangely comforted by Giles's
admission. "The demon.. did you beat it? Did you fix your mistake?"

"To be truthful, Willow and Angel did the fixing; I was... in rather the
same state you are right now, and not of much use, I'm afraid." He caught
her eyes, very serious. "You can do better that I managed -- you already
have. Helping Buffy and the other two face the werewolf, after the harm he
already caused you, took a great deal of courage. I have every faith that
you will find the courage to continue, and help us correct this mistake
once and for all."

He believed every word he was saying and Sasha bit her lip nearly hard
enough to draw blood, fighting the urge to simply bury her face in the
rough tweed of his jacket and sob her heart out. "What... What do I do?"
she asked instead.

He smiled at her with approval. "The first thing you do is sleep." She
started to protest automatically, but he stopped her with an upraised hand.
"You are still recovering from serious injuries, not to mention emotional
trauma, and also cast rather a powerful spell tonight. You need to rest or
you will be of no use to us tomorrow. Go to sleep."

"All right," she sighed heavily, stretching out on the cot. A wave of
sleepiness instantly rose over her. "I'll sleep. But I'm not happy about
it."

Giles nodded again and stood, clearing his throat and straightening his
jacket. "Good. Sleep well."

"Giles?" She stopped him before he could reach the door, something he'd
said percolating through the haze of exhaustion. "Angelus fought the demon
you raised?"

"Yes, he did," Giles confirmed expressionlessly. "At considerable risk to
himself."

Sasha thought about that, then nodded and burrowed her face into the
pillow. After a long moment, she heard Giles turn out the light and close
the door carefully behind him.

In the darkness, her hand crept under the pillow, touching the smooth wood
of the stake she'd taken from Buffy's stash. No matter what they said, or
what games he was playing, he was still a vampire. Still Angelus.

Her hand fisted around the stake, she slept.


- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
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: Mon, 19 Jan 1998 22:37:47 -0600 (CST)
From: [e-mail] (Perri Smith)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Ill Met By Moonlight, part 11 of 19

See standard disclaimer in part 1. Comments.compliments/flames
accepted/enjoyed/ignored at [e-mail]

Ill Met By Moonlight (11/19)
Bu Perri Smith
Copyright 1998

Part 10

Angel listened with half an ear as Willow and Xander tried to explain about
werewolves and Gypsy curses to Cordelia. The rest of his attention was on
checking Buffy's wound again and determinedly not watching Giles talk to
the Gypsy in his office.

He checked the tape on the bandage one last time to make sure it would hold
and stood. "Finished. You're sure you're okay?" he asked Buffy, reaching
out to smooth her hair away from her face.

She laid her cheek against his palm and smiled up at him. "I'm fine,
especially with you to take such good care of me."

"Well, you can return the favor sometime," he told her, smiling back. But
his eyes were drawn from hers back to the small office across the room, and
his smile faded, dull anger taking its place.

Buffy followed his gaze, and her face sobered as well. "Angel...." she
started hesitantly. "Before, when you first got here....."

"I'm sorry, Buffy," he cut her off quickly. He didn't want to think about
what he'd almost done, what he'd let her see. "I don't know what happened.
One second, I was coming to warn you, the next..." He shook his head once,
violently, and walked away from her, getting as far from the office as
possible.

He'd expected Buffy to follow and he was right. "What *did* happen?" she
asked carefully. "For a minute there, I thought you were really going
to.... Why is she making you so crazed? I've never seen *anyone* who could
make you lose it like this."

He shook his head, not quite daring to look at her. "I told you, I don't
know. It's like... Every time I see her, I have to fight myself to keep
from--" He broke off, not wanting to say it out loud, and started over.
"We're enemies. We always have been, we always will be. But I can keep it
under control."

"You have to control it, Angel," Buffy said seriously, putting her hands on
his arms and forcing her to meet his eyes. "Whatever it is that's making
the two of you go postal, you can't let it."

"We'll get rid of the werewolf," Angel promised her. "With or without the
witch."

"That's not what I'm worried about!" Her hands tightened on his arms. "I
don't want to lose you, and I'm afraid... You almost lost it tonight, and
I'm afraid if you really do lose it -- you won't come back."

Her eyes were wide, simultaneously old and incredibly young. He put him
arms around her and pulled her close, trying to comfort her. "You're not
going to lose me," he said intensely. "I promise. I'm not going to let the
Rom take anything else from me."

She didn't answer, but her arms crept around his waist and held on tightly.

"Ahem." They moved a little ways apart when Giles cleared his voice a few
feet away; Angel hadn't even heard him come back out into the library. The
Watcher couldn't quite look at them, but said uncomfortably, "Sorry to
intrude, but I could use your assistance with our research, Angel."

"Right." Angel hugged Buffy quickly, then dropped his arms. She took his
hand and they trailed behind Giles back to the main table, where Xander and
Willow had either finished explaining to Cordelia or given up, and were
buried back in books and the computer, respectively.

"Have you come up with anything yet?" Buffy asked them, sitting on the
table. Angel pulled up a chair next to her and Giles seated himself.

"Not a great deal," he admitted. "While there are many cures for mystical
lycanthropy listed, few of them are considered very reliable, and it's
possible none of them will work on a curse victim at all."

"But shouldn't they work?" Willow asked hesitantly. "I mean, a werewolf is
a werewolf, right?"

"Not precisely." Giles took off his glasses, looking tired. "Curses are a
tricky business; everything depends on the terms set down in the original
spell and the intent of the caster. Theoretically, Sasha herself should be
able to break the curse, but she has already stated she cannot."

"Assuming she knew what she was doing when she tried," Angel pointed out,
hearing the edginess in his own voice at the very mention of Sasha's name.
"She's not exactly reliable."

Giles frowned. "An excellent point. I shall have to quiz Sasha as to her
means and methods when she awakes. It may still be possible.... At any
rate," he recovered before wandering off into another theoretical haze,
"that still leaves us the problem of locating and confining the werewolf
before he can do further damage to the population. Buffy, you said it was
injured tonight."

"Barbecued," Buffy confirmed cheerfully. "And that thing about the silver
was right on the mark, Will; the knife Sasha loaned me definitely did some
damage."

Willow grinned and Giles frowned. "Knife?"

At his gesture, Buffy handed the small knife over to Giles. "I think
there's something weird with it; it, like, flashed when I used it on Big
And Hairy."

Giles examined the knife, muttering under his breath as he read the
engravings -- some kind of warding spell, from what Angel could make out --
and tested the blade. "Yes, quite. This would appear to do the job. Spelled
or enchanted or some such, I would guess."

"So we know how to hurt it," Xander summarized. "But do we know how to hurt
it enough? I mean, that thing is huge, and it's mean. If we shoot it, I
think we're just gonna make it mad."

"Poorly phrased, but not entirely inaccurate, I'm afraid," Giles agreed. "A
regular wolf would be rather formidable; one of this size and apparent
intelligence is, ah, rather more so."

"So don't deal with the wolf," Cordelia spoke up for the first time,
inspecting her manicure.

Everyone turned to look incredulously at her. "Well, see, there's a little
problem with that," Xander informed her sarcastically. "If we don't deal
with Wolfman, he starts using Sunnydale as a restaurant again, and that
would be Bad."

Cordelia looked up from her perfect nails long enough to give Xander a
disgusted and very superior look. "Hello, genius, I know that. But he's
only a wolf at night, right? So go after him during the day, when he's,
like, a guy. Buffy can take a guy."

Angel opened his mouth to tell Cordelia why she was wrong -- and it stayed
open. Beside him, Buffy blinked slowly, and Giles stared at Cordelia as if
she'd grown another head. Willow had frozen in the middle of typing to do
the same.

"I'll be damned," Angel said slowly. Trust Cordelia to come at things from
her own weird angle. "She's right."

Buffy nodded, still apparently in shock. "All we have to do is figure out
where this guy, Kriston, is holing up during the day, and we can take him
down then. No fuss, no muss."

"Well, it's not quite that easy," Giles said cautiously. "We will still
need to discover a way to confine him when he reverts to wolf form but,
yes, that would simplify the actual capture. An excellent suggestion,
Cordelia."

He only stumbled a little over the compliment, and Cordelia smiled proudly.
"No problem. *Someone* has to keep things simple around here."

"And simple is what you do best," Xander replied, apparently out of reflex
since he was still looking shellshocked.

Cordelia glared at him and stood up. "Now that I've solved your problem for
you, I don't have to hang around with you losers anymore," she sneered,
picking up her purse. "Have fun playing dog catcher."

"I already used that line," Buffy muttered as Cordelia left in a huff --
which, Angel had to admit, she did well. Buffy continued to make faces at
Cordelia's back until she was out of sight, then turned back to the others.
"So, how do we find this guy during the day?"

"We could check the hotels," Willow volunteered, already typing away. "Most
of them are computerized and I can check that way."

"We can call the rest of them," Xander added. "The desk clerks won't know
we're hunting this guy; they'll tell us if he's registered if we make up a
good enough story."

"Wow, we have a plan," Buffy grinned. "Concept. I'll help you with the
calls, Xander."

"And I will do more research on removing curses." Giles started sorting
books again. "That seems to be our best hope. Angel, will you assist me?"

Angel nodded his agreement, although it wasn't exactly his favorite topic,
and picked up the nearest stack of books. Buffy had slipped off the table
and gone to stare over Willow's shoulder.

"I'll print out the names of the hotels and their phone numbers," the
redhead was saying. "It'll just take me a minute to bring up the listings."

"Or we can do it the old fashioned way and use a phone book," Buffy pointed out.

Willow smiled and blushed slightly. "Well, yeah, we could do that."

"I think every book in existence is out here *except* the Yellow Pages,"
Buffy continued, surveying the table. "Giles, is there one in your office?"

"I believe there is," Giles answered absently, nose already buried in a
book. "I'll get it."

The other four waited. When Giles showed no signs of actually moving, Angel
shook his head. "I'll get it."

Buffy caught his arm as he started to move away. "Are you sure? I mean,
Sasha's in there and you guys... You do tend to wig more when you're in the
same room."

Angel tried a reassuring smile. "It's okay, I think I can handle it for ten
seconds." He had to try, at least; he was not going to let the Gypsy have
any more control over his actions then he had to.

Buffy might have understood, or maybe she just trusted him. Whichever it
was, she let him go and went back to helping Xander kibitz Willow's
hackerdom. Angel listened with amusement as he crossed the library, but the
amusement faded as he had to force himself to actually open the door to
Giles's office.

It was dark inside; the Gypsy was a shadowed, unmoving heap in the middle
of the cot on the wall opposite the door. Her breathing was steady and
Angel went inside, forcing the muscles that had tensed as soon as he'd seen
the Gypsy to move as quietly as possible. He sorted through the stacks on
Giles's desk, grateful for the night vision that made the lack of light an
annoyance rather than a problem, and located the Yellow pages on one of the
shelves above the desk. Getting it down was a problem, but he managed to
work it loose, and turned back towards the door.

"No! Bastard!"

Only his preternatural reflexes let him turn in time, as the Gypsy, her
eyes open and wild, lunged across the room at him, stake in hand and aimed
for his heart.

- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
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: Tue, 20 Jan 1998 17:52:53 EST
From: [e-mail] (Ingrid E Stanton)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: DISCUSS: "One Vampire's Headache..."

Okay guys...this is me, the author. It's been a really bad week so far,
and it doesn't look like things are getting better anytime soon. I
promise I'll finish the story eventually,  but for now, bear with me, and
store parts 1-3 in your brains till then. Thanx!
- -Ingrid

- -

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

Date: Tue, 20 Jan 1998 17:52:52 EST
From: [e-mail] (Ingrid E Stanton)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: DISCUSS: Ill Met BY Moonlight, Part 9 of 19

Really like this story. The Romanai/Angel feud is great stuff, especially
given the latest episode's treatment of it. Good writing throughout. Ugh-
I can *see* that big hairy werewolf!
- -Ingrid

- -

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

Date: Tue, 20 Jan 1998 18:45:46 -0500 (EST)
From: sah <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Request for missing digests

If anyone has any BUFFYFIC digests from November and December could you
please contact me (offlist, please)?  I have some of them (47, 60, 61, 65,
67, 68, 69) but would like the rest between number 43 and 79.  XMission
wasn't archiving during that time.

Come to think of it, if you have any regular BUFFY digests from that
period, I'd appreciate receiving those as well.  We're missing volume 1,
number 401 to volume 1, number 517 for that.

Thanks,
- --sah


- -

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

Date: Tue, 20 Jan 1998 18:30:08 -0600 (CST)
From: Perri Smith <[e-mail]>
Subject: Re: BUFFYFIC: DISCUSS: Ill Met BY Moonlight, Part 9 of 19

On Tue, 20 Jan 1998, Ingrid E Stanton wrote:

> Really like this story. The Romanai/Angel feud is great stuff, especially
> given the latest episode's treatment of it. Good writing throughout. Ugh-
> I can *see* that big hairy werewolf!

So can I still. <*shudder*> Got some goood nightmares while writing this
story!

<looks up at first sentance> Oh. To write makes our speaking English
dreadful.:P

Perri

- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Perri <[e-mail]>      I *am* the Buffy Evangalist!
NatPacker-*-Horsechick-*-Pezhead-*-Cohenhead-*-DDEB2-*-AGA-*-SunS-*-CoJ
"Don't you love how all the years of higher education and the effortless
verbal acuity we all share just shines through in every scintillating
syllable of our common dialogue?"
"Bite me." -- Dianne and Lizbet


- -

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

Date: Tue, 20 Jan 1998 19:43:22 -0600 (CST)
From: Tina <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Mental Wanderings

Yep, this is my "Jenny's *not* a bad guy!  She's not, she's not, she's
not!" fic.  Yep, I'm adamant.  She's too cool to be evil (unlike Dru,
who's incredibly cool *because* she's evil).

There's a strong language warning on this.

I'm liking feedback.  It's a good thing.  Any and all would be
appreciated.

Mental Wanderings
Tina Cooling
copyright 1998

They all belong to Joss (who is evil), blah, blah, blah...

Great.  Uncle Creepy didn't think I was being a good little Rom, so he'd
decided to pay me a visit.  Hell.  I can never seem to get far enough away
for them.  That's what I get for being born Gyspy.  In my next incarnation
I'm going to be a fucking polar bear.  If I have to hear one more rant
about my great Gypsy heritage, blah, blah, blah, I'm going to scream.

I hate this.  Rupert's gotten more and more curious lately.  Where's your
family, Jenny?  Where are you from, Jenny?  It's hard to resist that
pleading look in his eyes, but what am I supposed say?  I don't know where
I'm from because we didn't even stay a year?  You can't meet my family
because they're busy fleecing unsuspecting gadje?  Yeah, I'm Rom; my
name's actually Janna, stop calling me fucking Jenny?  By the way, I was
sent here to make sure that what's turned out to be a pretty nice guy
suffers for the rest of eternity?  I'm sure he'd love that.

I'm glad my paper ID holds up.  Of course, my family's had more than a few
years of forging credentials.  Just a few more months of hacking and I'll
be able to pull off a whole new identity.  That would mean leaving Rupert,
though, and I don't know if I could do that.  Leaving Rupert, leaving
Willow--Gods, she's just starting to bloom--I don't know if I can.

Goddamn it. I grew up with all the stories of Angelus.  Angelus the
monster who killed your beloved ancestress.  Beloved *and* stupid.  What
did the girl think, going out with a gadje in the middle of the night in
vampire-infested areas?  Angelus the slaughterer of your
great-great-grandparents.  Well, I'm sorry, but that's what you get for
giving some dumb seventeen year old the key to the wards.  None of this
would have happened if not for that.  Angelus and Darla, the slaughterers
of a tribe.

I was ready.  I'd heard all the stories; I knew everything about Angelus
that the elders did.  I didn't like it, but it was a chance to get away.
They never send the happy ones to do their dirty work.  They send ones
like me out--the discontented ones, women and men who long to get away
from the stultifying aura of tradition.  They send us out to do a task
that binds us closer.

I never expected a vampire to be so...human. Angel...  Well, he isn't
Angelus; he can't make up for the deaths.  They weren't his crimes.  An
innocent is suffering, and I'm the one who has to hurt him.

I've always loved how expressive Rupert's face is.  I don't think I could
handle seeing him look at me in disgust.  It nearly killed me the last
time I hurt him.

I might be able to find a way out.  Goddess, I want to get away.  Before
it's too late.

The only thing Uncle forgot to remind me of is that I'm in line for clan
elder.  I don't think I could ever forget.






- -

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

Date: Tue, 20 Jan 1998 18:21:36 -0800
From: Elizabeth Ann Lewis <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Hard Choices (1/1)

There should be a law against assault by fictional characters.  Jenny
attacked me today and demanded that I write this.  Thankfully, she went off
and told Tina the "Surprise" stuff (which is in "Mental Wanderings").

This takes place about a week after The Dark Age; however, it contains
spoilers for Surprise.  Read at own peril!

All characters belong to Joss, etc, who just may knock this little fic out
of the water in 1 hour and 45 minutes (yes, I'm counting... this surprises
anyone?)

One bleepable phrase, over with in the first sentance.

Dedicated, as always, to the SunS.  <g>

Comments, praise, chocolate and cute angsty undead guys to [e-mail]
- --------------
Hard Choices
by Elizabeth Ann Lewis
[e-mail]

The son of a bitch saved me.  Now what am I supposed to do?

I curled up on the window seat, a cup of tea in my hand, staring out into
the night.  These middle of the night brooding sessions had gotten very
familiar in the past week.  OK, middle of the night brooding and panicking
sessions.  Sometimes I'd wake up screaming from nightmares where I was
locked in my own body, unable to control it as I worked hideous atrocities
on those around me... and waking, knowing it had been true, was worse.
Goddess, I'll never forget the look in Rupert's eyes.  In his apartment
when the devil that had taken hold revealed itself.  In the shop, when he
pushed Buffy aside and offered himself instead.

And at school the next day, demon-free and in control again, when I
flinched back from his touch.

Sighing, I leaned my forehead against the glass, the vapors rising from my
cup, fogging the window and tickling my nose.  I'd always been a coffee
girl, double-espresso-hold-the-foam.  But the Earl Grey was a sensory link
to Rupert.  I couldn't -- *couldn't* -- let him get close, but I could sip
his tea.  And how pathetic did that make me?

I'm not good at being powerless.  Understatement of the decade.  And I've
never been more helpless in my life than I had been with that demon inside
of me -- except for right now, with it gone.  There was no way to fight, no
way to escape.  My body, my life, my *being* had been taken over.

I guess that's what it feels like to become a vampire.  But their souls
don't remain, to look with horror on what their bodies were doing.  They
wing free, released with the body's death.

Except in one case.

The tea grew cold in my hand; I hadn't wanted to drink it, I only wanted to
smell it.  Firmly, I repressed a childish urge to pout.  It wasn't fair.
Surely this one thing should be straightforward and simple.  Angelus was a
vampire, a demon who had destroyed with mad glee.  Restoring his soul to
make him suffer was the perfect punishment.  The demon would never consent
to stop killing, but the soul could anguish with every life lost.

I pounded the heel of my hand against the windowpane.  Who would have
thought that Angelus -- Angel -- would have the strength of mind and will
to control the demon within him?  He certainly did it better than I had.  I
would have killed Rupert and I lo...  the flash of pain made me back away
from that thought.

And not only did Angel manage to not commit evil, he actually did active
good.  He'd saved Buffy's life more times than I knew of -- and he'd saved
mine.

If he knew who I really was, he would have let the demon take me.

The first time I saw him, I had no clue who he was.  So much for Gypsy
intuition, huh?  Some people are tone-deaf, I'm magick-deaf.  But sometime
after the Master had died and we left the library, I asked Rupert who was
the dark-haired boy who hovered so protectively over Buffy.

"His name is Angel," Rupert began -- and I felt myself go cold.  "He's a
vampire," Rupert continued, but I didn't hear, couldn't believe that a
vampire had fought his own kind to protect the Slayer.  I had told Rupert
the literal truth when I said I wasn't a witch, I didn't have that kind of
power.  I couldn't even sense a vampire.

Oh, Goddess, Rupert.  If he ever found out -- if he knew who and what I
was, what I'd been sent to do...  He'd feel betrayed, and rightly so.  He'd
struggled to explain to me what vampires were, what the Slayer was.  And
aside from being floored that Willow's bouncy friend Buffy was the Slayer,
he didn't have to tell me a thing.  Faking shock and disbelief and slowly
dawning understanding... Goddess, I *hate* lying!  Deviousness is highly
respected among my clan, but maybe I'd been among gorgios too long.

Or maybe I loved him too much.  Look, that hardly hurt at all. Only cut out
one small section of my heart.  I loved him, but part of me flinched back
from the pain that being near him had brought -- Eyghon.  And part of me
flinched back from the thought of those eyes looking at me with so much
anger and disgust for the lying little Gypsy girl.

How could I stay true?  To my clan, to Rupert, to Buffy and Angel, to
myself?  Everywhere I turned there were choices, swords ready to cut me.
Angel was supposed to suffer.  I'd never doubted the fairness of that.  But
every time he looked at Buffy, his soul shone from his eyes.  To make him
suffer was to make Buffy suffer, and she certainly didn't deserve it.  And
Rupert -- and me.  Yet to betray my very *people* -- and the memory of all
the ravaged dead Angelus had left in his path... how could I turn my back
on them?

Oh, look.  A sunrise.  Again.  Even when they heralded nights of broken
sleep and horrific dreams, I cherished them.  They were proof that I was
human, mortal -- myself.

Even if the person I was didn't want to make the choices that she must.

High Priestess Lizbet of the Cult of Joss ~*~ [e-mail]
Co-List Mummy, Sunnydale Slayers: "Spank your inner moppet."
http://www.primenet.com/~lizbet/    ~~*~~
                      "To read- to guess.
To guess- perchance to thud: ay, there's the rub!" -- The Bard (after Tina)



- -

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

Date: Tue, 20 Jan 1998 23:08:31 -0600 (CST)
From: [e-mail] (Perri Smith)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Ill Met By Moonlight, Part 12

I would like to reclaim custody of my brain from Joss, please. Or at least
the fic-writing part. :P

See standard disclaimer in part 1. Comments.compliments/flames
accepted/enjoyed/ignored at [e-mail]

Ill Met By Moonlight (12/19)
Bu Perri Smith
Copyright 1998

Part 11


"No, damn you!" The scream came from three throats, but she continued to
shout, pulling words from deep within her. She held out her hands and they
burst into flame -- and kept burning, spreading not to the wolf, but up her
arms towards her body, towards her face. She screamed again as the heat
tore at her skin and the wolf laughed, advancing on the boy who lay still
on the ground beside her.

"Stop him!" she screamed to the Slayer who stood a few feet away, but the
girl only shrugged.

"That's your job," she said easily. "Your problem. Your fault."

"No!" The flames had spread to her entire body now; through their light,
she watched helplessly as the wolf bent over the boy, unable to move. The
wolf looked up and it was Angelus grinning at her, his face a fright mask,
his eyes as yellow as the wolf's.

"Too late, chov-hani," he growled, and his fangs shone white in the
flickering light as the flames rose to devour her....

"No!" Sasha bolted upright, her own scream echoing in her ears. There was
darkness all around her, an unfamiliar room, and a few feet away, an
all-too-familiar face. "Bastard!"

There was a stake already in her hand as she lunged across the room,
nothing in her mind except killing the thing that had killed Xander. Even
as she came at him, his face twisted and changed, the demon breaking
through the human charade. He met her charge with a backhanded blow with
the heavy object her held in his hand; she almost ducked and the object
caught her on the shoulder and knocked her to one side.

She barely felt the impact when she hit the floor, but came back on her
feet instantly, swinging the stake in a deadly arc towards Angelus's chest.
She'd surprised him, and she saw the stake rip into his side with grim
pleasure that was dimmed only by the fact that she'd missed.

He snarled as the blood began to flow and grabbed her wrist in an iron
grip, forcing the stake to drop from suddenly numb fingers. Slowly, he
forced her down to her knees, his face contorted with rage. She saw his
fangs coming towards her, as they had gone after Xander, and her own anger
boiled even higher. Ignoring the pain in her wrist, she pulled backwards
with all her weight, throwing the vampire off balance, and tore her hand
free, grabbing the stake back up from the floor. She wouldn't miss this
time, she saw with satisfaction, and slammed the wood down towards
Angelus's unprotected heart.

"What the hell?" The shout was Sasha's only warning, before a heavy body
slammed into hers, knocking her back from Angelus to the floor. She
screamed and fought her captor, but his arms were in an unbreakable band
around her chest.

Through the haze of rage and frustration, she was dimly aware of a girl's
voice shouting and of the lights suddenly coming on. They were blindingly
bright, disorienting her and she struggled harder against the arms that
held her prisoner.

"Knock it off!" a boy's voice gritted, close to her ear. "He may be a pain
in the neck, but he's our pain in the neck and you don't get to shishkabob
him! Or me!"

She froze. No, he was dead. She'd seen him die, she'd seen Angelus kill....
No, it had been the wolf, and the fire had burned.... No, Buffy had.....

Her vision slowly returned. With it came memory, and sanity, and realization.

*****

They hadn't been expecting trouble, and the scream from Giles's office
caught them all off guard. Buffy recovered first, jumping from her chair so
fast she knocked it over, but Xander was closer and somehow beat her to the
office, throwing open the door.

"What the--?" Buffy had just enough time to register the image of Sasha,
crouched over an off-balance Angel with a stake descending towards his
heart, before Xander plunged through the doorway, slamming into the Gypsy
with a tackle that would have gotten him instantly recruited for the
Sunnydale High football team if a coach had been around to see it.

The stake clattered to the ground as they fell backwards into the shadows
and Angel lunged forward, game face on and pissed. Buffy hit the light
switch in the same motion that she ran forward, nearly tripped over the
phone book he'd gone in to get, and put herself between Angel and the pair
on the floor without a second thought.

"Angel, no!" she shouted, grabbing his shirt with both hands. He snarled
down at her as if he didn't even recognize her, his face twisted with a
blind fury she'd never seen before.  The Slayer in the back of her mind
screamed in warning, but she hung on grimly. His shirt was wet, soaked with
blood, and she ignored that, too. She had to stop him.

"Angel, listen to me, you can't do this!" He was almost a foot taller than
she was; she couldn't really shake him, but she gave it her best shot,
meeting his eyes fearlessly. "Angel, knock it off! Angel!"

There was a muffled grunt behind her and Buffy took her eyes off Angel just
long enough to check on Xander. Sasha was still fighting him, her eyes wide
open, wild and unseeing, as she fought to break free; Xander held her
grimly in place with his arms locked around her chest and shoulders.

Maybe the sight of them was what got through to Angel, or maybe he'd
finally registered Buffy's presence. Whatever it was, he stopped trying to
get past her at Sasha, and something human returned to his eyes. Buffy
wasn't about to let him go, though; the demon still twisted his face.

"What the hell happened?" she demanded at the top of her lungs.

The force of the yell, combined with Xander's shouts, finally seemed to
break through whatever was going on in Sasha's head; she stopped so
suddenly Xander almost let go out of surprise. Sasha was still on the
floor,  but she wasn't fighting him anymore; her eyes were wide with fear
and confusion, her face nearly blank from shock. Considering how close
she'd just come to killing Angel, Buffy had absolutely no sympathy.

"I didn't..." Sasha stammered weakly. "I thought... He was...." She
couldn't get out anything else; her body crumbled against Xander, her words
disappearing into choked sobs. Xander could barely hold her up as she
collapsed.

Buffy turned away from the Gypsy, obviously no longer a threat, with
disgust, looking back up at Angel. His game face was still on, but sanity
had come back to his expression. "Angel, what happened?" she asked, forcing
her voice to stay steady and firm.

He shook his head, his body so tense it nearly vibrated beneath his hands,
his eyes still glaring holes through Sasha. With no warning, he tore free
from Buffy's hands and nearly ran out the door past Giles and Willow.

Buffy watched him go, torn between dealing with the weeping Sasha and
racing after her boyfriend. Willow took the decision out of her hands,
moving forward to kneel on the floor beside Sasha and Xander, hesitantly
touching the Gypsy's shoulders. "We'll take care of her," she said over her
shoulder. "Go take care of Angel."

"Thanks, Will," Buffy breathed, before turning and running out of the
library after Angel.

She caught up to him halfway down the block from the school, and grabbed
his jacket, pulling him around to face her. He swung so fast he almost
knocked her down; she took a step back but didn't let him go.

"Get away from me," he snarled. "Just get away."

She stood her ground. "No! Not until you tell me what happened in there!
What did she do to you?"

He leaned over her, so close she could see herself reflected in his eyes.
His yellow, enraged eyes, so far from the soft, deep brown eyes she
knew.... "How do you know I didn't go after her?"

He wasn't going to intimidate her. She set her jaw and informed him,
"Because I know you better than that." That backed *him* up a pace; she
pressed her advantage. "Why did she go after you?"

"I don't know," he said finally, turning away again, but not walking off.
Buffy took that as a good sign, even if he wouldn't look at her. "One
second she was asleep, then she came at me with a stake. And I almost
killed her for it."

Ah. That would be why he was wigging. "She came after you, and you *didn't*
kill her," she pointed out, keeping her voice as reasonable as possible.
"In fact, when I came in, it looked more like you were on the losing end."
He didn't turn around, didn't answer. She tried desperate tactics. "You
know, you're going to have to thank Xander for saving your skin. And he's
going to rub it in, as often as possible."

She'd been hoping for a laugh, but not really expecting one, and she didn't
get it. But his shoulders did relax just a little, which gave her the nerve
to take his jacket again and move back in front of him. He was Angel,
again, at least; the demon had retreated, leaving his face human once more.

"She didn't hurt you?" Buffy asked carefully, touching his bloody, ripped
T-shirt.

He shook his head, shrugging the injury off and still refusing to meet her
eyes. "I'll be fine. She caught me by surprise, or...." His voice broke
off, his eyes darkening. "I can feel it happening, every time I'm around
that witch," he said, low and intense. "It's like the demon is just waiting
below the surface, ready to go for her throat. Or anyone else who happens
to be around."

"That won't happen," Buffy told him fiercely. "You won't let it!"

"How do you know?" He looked at her for the first time, his eyes dark with
unreadable emotion. There'd been a time when she hadn't been able to see
anything in those eyes; now she could see everything, and didn't know what
half of it was. "The Rom made me what I am; they gave me my soul again. And
every time Sasha Lakatos comes near me, I can feel them taking it back."

He laughed hollowly, humorlessly, his hands deep in his pockets and his
face turned towards the sky and the full moon. "They should have just
killed me a hundred years ago, instead of drawing it out with this damned
curse."

"Was it a curse, Angel?" Buffy asked, sounding very young even to herself.
"Would you change it?

He closed his eyes, his head falling forward as if he was too tired to hold
it up anymore, and sighed. "I don't know. I don't know much of anything
anymore."

She nodded, understanding that all too well. "I know what you mean."

"Yeah." They stood like that, together, but not touching, for what seemed
like forever. Finally, Angel took another of those deep breaths he didn't
really need, and straightened. "I'd better get going, make sure that damn
wolf isn't going to come back tonight."

Buffy nodded. "It's late enough that he won't find many meals wandering
around. Be careful?"

He almost smiled down at her. "I will. Keep an eye on the witch. She's
dangerous."

Buffy lifted her chin. "So am I."

That got the laugh out of him she'd wanted earlier, the soft, blessedly
normal chuckle. "Yeah, you are." His hand caressed her cheek like a
whisper, then he started down the street.

Buffy looked after him until he was gone, then headed back inside the
school. It was a bad night to be outside alone, even for the Slayer.

The library was considerably more quiet than it had been when she'd left
it; Giles was slumped at the table, his glasses on the table in front of
him so he could rub his eyes. He looked... tired.

"Giles?"

He looked up at her soft question, and attempted to straighten up in his
chair, without much success. "Buffy. How is Angel?"

"Lousy." Buffy slumped into the chair opposite her Watcher. "Her?" she
asked shortly, with a gesture towards the office.

Giles sighed. "'Lousy' would seem to cover it. Willow is still attempting
to calm her. Buffy, she was... not entirely sane for a few moments."

"Not guilty by reason of insanity? I don't care, Giles." Buffy's eyes were
hard and cold. "All I care about is getting rid of this damn wolf so we can
get rid of her, before Angel does something he'll regret."

She looked towards the office, barely able to hear Willow's voice saying
something soothing and comforting to the Gypsy who'd just tried to kill the
only *good* thing that Slaying had given her.

"Or before I do," she finished grimly.

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



- -

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