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Buffyfic-digest      Wednesday, January 21 1998      Volume 01 : Number 091



In this issue:

       BUFFYFIC: My Heart Will Go On [1/1] by Dawn Murrell
       BUFFYFIC: Ill Met By Moonlight, part 15 of 19
       BUFFYFIC: Ill Met By Moonlight, PArt 16 of 19
       BUFFYFIC: Ill Met By Moonlight, Part 17 of 19

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, 21 Jan 1998 17:21:55 -0800
From: Dawn <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: My Heart Will Go On [1/1] by Dawn Murrell

Title: My Heart Will Go On 1/1
Author: Dawn Murrell
Distribution Statement: Anya, my site*, anyone else ask.
Spoiler Warning: Takes place right after Innocence.
Rating: PG, just to be safe.
Content Warning: Kissing, some angst, allusions to sex.
Classification: Romance, definitely.
Summary: Buffy has a dream.
Disclaimer: Buffy and Angel belong to Joss Whedon, 20th Century Fox,
Mutant Enemy, Kuzui Enterprises, you get my point. I=92m only borrowing
the characters, I=92ll give them back. Although I might confiscate Angel
because Joss is mistreating him:-). Also, "My Heart Will Go On" belongs
to Celine Dion.
Feedback: Adored!
Author=92s Notes: Okay, I=92m pulling myself out of my funk for a little
while to write this story. I can=92t stop crying whenever I watch
Innocence, and I=92ve been listening to nothing but Toni Braxton=92s
"Un-Break My Heart" all day(funny how appropriate it is now). But, since
I=92ve already written a story based on that song, I decided to use Celin=
e
Dion=92s recent hit, "My Heart Will Go On" from the AWESOME motion pictur=
e
Titanic.
*yes, you read correctly, I have a site. It=92s at
http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Academy/9592/index.html

My Heart Will Go On 1/1
by Dawn Murrell

"Every night in my dreams
I see you, I feel you,
That is how I know you go on

Far across the distance
And spaces between us
You have come to show you go on

Near, far, wherever you are
I believe that the heart does go on
Once more you open the door
And you're here in my heart
And my heart will go on and on

Love can touch us one time
And last for a lifetime
And never let go till we're one

Love was when I loved you
One true time I hold to
In my life we'll always go on

Near, far, wherever you are
I believe that the heart does go on
Once more you open the door
And you're here in my heart
And my heart will go on and on

There is some love that will not go away

You're here, there's nothing I fear,
And I know that my heart will go on
We'll stay forever this way
You are safe in my heart
And my heart will go on and on"

- ------Celine Dion, "My Heart Will Go On"

 Buffy walked into her bedroom, relieved that she could finally let the
tears fall without having to answer to her mother. That she did, as she
walked over to her bed and sat down. She looked down at her hand, not
for the first time during this whole ordeal, and at the ring he had
given her a mere two nights ago. Funny, how what seemed like years was
only a couple of days. She twisted the ring, still with the heart facing
her, around her finger. She couldn=92t bring herself to take it off for
good, even after all of those things Angelus did to her. He had taunted
her with her feelings for Angel, toying with her emotions by saying how
awful that night had been. It had been so wonderful, the whispered
words, the soft caresses, the loving kisses, and he had to go and make
her feel awful about it. She knew in her heart that Angel hadn=92t done
those things to her, said those awful things. It had been the demon
masquerading as Angel, a demon hiding behind those beautiful eyes that
could see so easily into her soul. Angel, her Angel, was dead, gone to
everybody but her. Angel would live forever in her heart. And her
dreams=85

"Angel! I=92m so glad to see you. Are you alright?" Buffy said to Angel,
running through the rain and into his arms. He pulled her under a tree,
where she wouldn=92t get as wet.
"Yeah, I=92m good. Are you? I mean, I haven=92t been all that nice to you
the past two days." Angel said, ashamed as he remembered the words, the
terrible things he had said to her.
"Angel, you=92ve never been anything but wonderful to me. It=92s not your
fault the demon took over." The next thing she said was barely audible.
"It=92s mine." She whispered, looking down at the ground. Angel lifted he=
r
chin with his finger.
"No it=92s not, Buffy." He said comfortingly. She looked up at him, her
tear-filled eyes looking into his loving ones.
"No? I=92m the one who pushed it. You were the one who said that maybe we
shouldn=92t=85" She looked away, not wanting Angel to feel any worse than=
 he
already was by seeing her cry. Angel moved so that he was again looking
her in the eye.
"Buffy, neither one of us could have known what would happen. It=92s not
the kind of thing Giles can find in his books. And I don=92t know about
you, but I wouldn=92t trade that night for anything in the world! It was
the most incredible night of my entire life!" He said passionately.
"Really?" She replied meekly. She knew he meant it, but she had to ask.
He pulled her into his embrace and kissed her gently.
"Really." He assured her lovingly. Then he realized that he needed to
tell her. "Buffy, there=92s something I have to ask of you."
"What?" Buffy said suspiciously, not liking his tone of voice. There was
only one thing she could think of that he would ask of her in that tone.
Apparently she knew him well.
"I need you to kill the demon." That one statement made her more angry
than she had ever felt.
"No! Angel, I won=92t kill you!" Angel took her hands in his.
"Buffy, it=92s not me anymore. I=92m already dead. That demon will kill y=
ou,
all of your friends and family, and all of Sunnydale if you don=92t stop
him! I *need* you do this for me." Angel was begging her now. Buffy=92s
face softened.
"Angel, killing the demon will be killing the only chance we have of
bringing you back. You can=92t ask me to do that." She looked so tiny in
arms, so young and vulnerable. Yet he knew that underneath that facade,
she was a strong and stubborn young woman. She wouldn=92t give up on this=
,
not tonight.
"Okay, I=92ll let you go for now. But Buffy, he=92ll kill a lot of people=
,
and you might not realize it, but he=92s doing the same thing to you as h=
e
did to Drusilla. He=92s killing you on the inside, I can see it in your
eyes. Don=92t let him hurt you any further."
"I won=92t. Not as long as I have you here, even if it is only in my
dreams. And for now, you are only in my dreams, but Angel, I=92m not goin=
g
to give up on the possibility of cursing you again, or finding some
other way to restore your soul, that might, possibly, allow us to be
together." Angel knew she didn=92t mean in the same room, or even just
being able to kiss. He knew how wonderful she could be, and he would
give anything to be able to feel her in his arms again. And he liked to
imagine that she felt the same way. One look into her eyes told him it
was true. He pulled her close to him and kissed her, savoring the taste
of her. They stood there, under the tree, kissing, until Angel noticed
that Buffy was shivering.
"Maybe you should go. You=92re soaking wet, and you must be freezing
cold." He said, although his heart wasn=92t in his words. Her eyes said
that she didn=92t care, as long as she could be with him for a few more
precious moments. "Besides, you need to wake up soon. You have school in
the morning."
"Right. School. Yeah. I probably should wake up now." Buffy said,
wishing she could stay in this dream world, forever holding him in her
arms. Tears threatened to fall as she spoke. "I never want to wake up."
"I don=92t want you to, either, but you have to." Angel=92s voice broke a=
s
he talked.
"Why can=92t we just stay this way forever? What would be so bad about
that?" Buffy asked rhetorically. She knew the answer. Angel knew she
knew it. He hugged her tightly, then pulled away just enough to kiss her
deeply, the first kiss they had shared since that night.
"I love you, Angel."
"I love you too, Buffy." Buffy watched as he faded away, faded into the
rain. She felt a lone tear fall down her cheek as, once again, the same
rain that brought them together tore them apart.
                                                   *********************

 Buffy woke and realized that she had fallen asleep in her clothes. She
looked over at her clock and saw that she had only about 15 minutes to
get ready for school. She took one last glance at her ring, then got up,
not really ready to start the day, but having no choice in the matter.
She would return to him, that night, in her dreams. Meanwhile, she
would spend every waking moment trying to find a way for them to be
together in this world, the world that had so cruelly denied them their
love. Buffy was still sad, but she could go on, would go on, with the
knowledge that Angel was still very alive in her heart.
_________________________________________________________________________=
____

                                                                    The
End
You like?

Dawn Murrell



- -

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

Date: Wed, 21 Jan 1998 22:36:10 -0600 (CST)
From: [e-mail] (Perri Smith)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Ill Met By Moonlight, part 15 of 19

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

Ill Met By Moonlight (15/19)
By Perri Smith
Copyright 1998

Part 14

"How could she be this stupid?" Buffy stalked back and forth across the
library floor. She'd stopped yelling several minutes ago, and was down to
muttering insults occasionally interspersed with near-shrieks of incoherent
fury. She wasn't sure if she was more angry or worried and decided to
settle for angry as the simpler emotion. "How could she possibly be dumb
enough to try and take that damn werewolf on alone?"

Xander, who normally would have been the one doing the pacing, was instead
over by Willow's side, prudently staying out of the line of fire. Giles was
hunched over a stack of books, reading frantically.

Willow was reading Sasha's e-mail message for the fourteenth time, as if it
would give them some clue as to where to find the Gypsy. "I don't know,"
she said miserably. "She didn't say anything when I was in here this
afternoon. I don't know how she even figured out where the werewolf *was*!"

Buffy stopped and reversed, striding over to Willow, who shrank back a
little. Buffy felt slightly guilty, but didn't have time to deal with it.
"If *she* found this Kriston guy, so can you," she informed Willow. "Think!
What did you tell her this afternoon?"

"Just about looking in the hotels and trying to find him when he's human,
that's all we talked about! Well, that and..." Her voice trailed off and
her cheeks turned faintly pink.

"What?" Buffy demanded.

"I kinda yelled at her a little about Angel," Willow admitted in a tiny voice.

Xander blinked at her. "*You* yelled at someone? Wow, the world really is
coming to an end."

Willow's blush deepened and Buffy resisted the temptation to smack Xander,
mostly since he was too far away. "Anything else, Will, anything that could
tell us where she found him, where she went to meet him? Anything?"

Willow thought. "No, noth--" Her voice abruptly broke off, her head
shooting up. "Wait! Something got flagged from the police computers,
another body outside of town! Sasha was there when I got the police
reports!"

"Well, what did they say?" Buffy pressed.

Willow was already bringing the files up. "Um, a man found in his car, with
a broken neck, and no identification. Um, no clothes either."

"No clothes?" Giles looked up suddenly, pulled back to reality. "He had no
clothing on?"

"That's what it says," Willow confirmed.

"A name?" Giles leaned over the table, books forgotten. "What name was the
car registered in?"

"Someone named Wilson, from out of town," Buffy read over Willow's
shoulder. "Why, Giles? What's so big about a dead streaker?"

"A werewolf's clothing is destroyed in the transformation from man to
animal," Giles explained simply and grimly. "He needed to obtain another
set, preferably without blood. And I'm willing to bet a gentleman using
that name and identification checked into a hotel in Sunnydale."

Willow confirmed that a moment later, following it with, "Uh-oh, bad news."

"What now?" Buffy groaned.

"The police did the same thing Sasha did. They broke into the hotel room,
but no one was there. There's an APB out."

"So now the whole world is looking for him. Goodie." Buffy sighed in
frustration, returning to pacing. "Well, now we know how, but not *why*.
She can't think she could take him down alone, even if he *is* human. Which
he's not going to be for much longer. How could she be so stupid?"

"It runs in the family." Angel came out of the entrance from the stacks; it
was a sign of the tension in the room that not even Xander reacted to his
appearing act. "What's she done now?"

"Gone out to hold peace talks with giant-size predators," Buffy informed
him. "She sent Willow an e-mail to tell us what she'd done, but didn't
bother to tell us where they were meeting, so we can't find her and save
her butt!"

"Finding her won't be a problem," Angel answered grimly. Before Buffy could
make him clarify, he had come down the stairs to Giles, avoiding the last
of the daylight coming through the windows. "Have you found a way to break
the curse yet?"

Giles shoved his glasses up his nose. "None that I'm certain of, except the
obvious -- Sasha herself should be able to break the curse. I have no idea
why she failed."

"She failed because she did not believe she could succeed."

*This* time, everyone jumped and spun (except Xander, who got tangled up in
his chair and fell instead) towards the door of the library, where the new
voice had come from. An *really* old woman, gray-haired and bent from age,
stood in the doorway. Her brown eyes were nearly lost in a mass of
wrinkles, but they were intelligent and strong as they met Buffy's. So
strong that it took Buffy a long moment to realize the old woman wasn't
alone, but flanked by two large men, one with dark hair and eyes who looked
a lot more like Buffy thought a Gypsy should, the other a dark blond.

"Who the hell are you?" Buffy demanded, automatically putting herself
between the intruders and her friends. Behind her, she heard something low
and nasty come from Angel's throat, but couldn't spare any attention to
look back at him. The two guys with the woman did it for her, open hatred
and disgust in their eyes.

Buffy moved a little more between them. "Answer me!"

"I am Iraina Lakatos," the old woman said, with a glare at her two escorts
that had them backing off slightly. Buffy took the moment's reprieve to aim
a similar look at Angel, with only slightly less effect.  "I have come in
search of my great-granddaughter," the old woman continued, her accent
bending the words oddly. "And I believe one stands here who can help us
find her. Before it is too late for finding to do any good."

*****

Kriston had probably, going by her past track record, expected Sasha to
either freeze in terror or start screaming. His smile, as his half-human,
half-animal hands reached for her, newly-grown claws gleaming, suggested he
was ready to enjoy it when she did.

He got a rude shock when Sasha neither froze nor screamed, but brought her
hand up from her pocket and slashed at him with the silver knife she'd
hidden there. The knife flashed blindingly, almost scaring Sasha into
dropping it as a jolt of *something* ran back up the blade to her fingers.
Kriston's howl of rage and pain as blood flowed from the gash on his chest
echoed off the warehouse and he lashed out with one paw. Sasha tried to
duck, but wasn't fast enough.

She was  knocked to the ground hard enough to knock her breath out, but
kept her hold on the knife, scrambling to her knees. She couldn't get any
further up; her head was spinning, the room fading in and out around her.
Her injured leg had stopped throbbing and was now simply not there; Sasha
knew that was bad, but was grateful for it now.

"You think I'm stupid?" she spat, trying to buy a little time. "I know how
to kill a werewolf; next time I won't miss your damn heart!"

A few feet away, Kriston was doubled over, nearly on his knees as well.
"No next time, you Gypsy bitch." His voice was almost unintelligible as he
forced it through a wolf's throat and mouth, but his movements were
unthinkably fast. He lashed out at Sasha again, and the knife flew from her
hand, spinning out into the shadows.

He followed the strike with another, but Sasha scrambled backwards out of
the way, and it tore past the air by her legs. Her groping right hand,
nearly numb from the werewolf's blow, found a heavy length of something
round and cold. She grabbed the piping and brought it around with all of
her strength; it slammed into Kriston's head, and it was his turn to eat
concrete.

It should have bought her a few seconds, like the blow from the 2X4 had in
the alley, what seemed like ages before. But the wolf seemed to be getting
used to being hit in the head; before Sasha could even get back to her
feet, the werewolf was back up, and facing her, one paw slashing out again.
She ducked that one, but the other came too quickly and she couldn't turn
in time. The pipe went spinning from her hands; he heard it clatter not far
away, but couldn't look.

The wolf held all her attention.

Gray and black fur sprouted from the remains of its clothing, ripped and
torn where the body had changed and the cloth had failed to follow suit.
Its face had lost all trace of humanity; a wolf's muzzle held sharp teeth,
bared in pain and anger, and its eyes had turned yellow-gold, shining in
the dim light of the moon like twisted beacons. Those eyes locked on Sasha
- -- and that was when she froze.

"Now I'm going to make it slow." Sasha could barely make out the words, but
she didn't need to; those eyes told her all she needed to know. She tried
to think, to plan, but nothing seemed possible. Nothing but dying.

Kriston seemed to know it; his canines showed in a feral smile. "I'll
listen to you beg before I rip your throat out, chov-hani."

He sneered the last word, making it an insult, and that insult burned
through Sasha's terror as no amount of threatening could have. Anger
flared, cold fire flooding her body. Pain went away, taking fear and
uncertainty with it.

'Chov-hani', he'd called her -- it was time and past she lived up to the title.

"Burn in hell, Wolfman," she said through her teeth, forcing herself to her
feet with a strength she didn't recognize, but wasn't going to refuse. "And
here's a little something to light the way."

She held up her hands and shouted aloud, and fire lit the warehouse.

*****

"How much further?" Buffy panted, running beside Angel and trying to keep
up with the brutal pace he was setting.

"Not much farther," he answered shortly, and Buffy reflected for the
thousandth time how annoying it was that he never got out of breath. "Looks
like we're heading for the docks."

"Oh, good, a nice, safe, out-of-the-way place for a fight to the death,"
Buffy mumbled sarcastically. "Good thinking, Sasha."

"It has yet to be proved that she *was* thinking," Gregor Lakatos -- the
tall blond Gypsy -- pointed out, keeping pace with the other two easily.
"My baby cuz isn't exactly at her best anywhere but on a horse and behind a
stack of legal tomes."

"Then maybe you should keep a better eye on your 'baby cuz'," Angel told
him without looking at him. "And all of us could avoid stupid situations
like this."

"Watch it, Angelus," Greg warned dangerously, his hand hovering near his
jacket pocket, "or I'll give you an entirely different stupid situation to
worry about, involving me and a stake."

"Looks like dumb isn't the only hereditary thing," Buffy grumbled. "Can you
two try not to kill each other until we find Sasha and the wolf, if that
wouldn't be too much trouble?"

The two men glared at each other, but fell silent, giving Buffy a chance to
catch her breath again and silently swear to get even with whatever deity,
good, bad or otherwise, had come up with the damn Gypsy/vampire death feud.
Sasha's grandmother had stayed behind with the Slayerettes and the other
Gypsy to get what they needed to break the curse, but Greg had refused to
be left behind, and he and Angel hadn't stopped growling threats at each
other since.

But the fighting didn't interfere with their speed, at least, and Angel
seemed to know exactly where he was going. Looked like Sasha's vampire
homing signal worked both ways. They broke out of the streets on to the
docks, and Buffy slowed. "Where, Angel?" she demanded, breathing heavily.

Angel stopped and looked around, his eyes intent. "Over there," he finally
gestured. "The warehouse."

"Which warehouse?" Buffy demanded. A second later, fire erupted through the
roof of one of the old buildings, sending a wave of heat they could feel
even from 100 yards away. "Oh. That warehouse."

"Sasha's in there! Move!" Greg shoved his way past them at a dead run and
they followed close on his heels.

- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
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: Wed, 21 Jan 1998 22:36:32 -0600 (CST)
From: [e-mail] (Perri Smith)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Ill Met By Moonlight, PArt 16 of 19

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

Ill Met By Moonlight (16/19)
By Perri Smith
Copyright 1998

Part 15

Kriston stumbled back from the flames surrounding Sasha's body with a
curse, falling to his knees with an anguished howl. Sasha pressed forward,
her corona of flames burning higher and brighter as she channeled a month's
worth of fear and guilt into them. All around her, crates and boxes burst
into flame, but she barely noticed. Kriston twisted and screamed, and
finally rose again -- on four feet instead of two.

The wolf's fangs dripped as it snarled at her, singed and blacked fur
covering its face. She pushed even closer, holding out her arms, her palms
spread wide. "Not so easy to go after me now, is it?" she asked with
saccharine sweet rage. "Not so easy to kill someone who can fight back? Not
so big and brave now -- now I know what *you're* afraid of!" The flames
flared still higher, still hotter and she gave herself one short moment to
savor the power, the heady sensation of not being afraid.

But it was a moment too long.

Taunted beyond whatever thought it had left, the werewolf suddenly sprang
forward. Heedless of the flames that set fire to its fur and charred its
skin, it hit Sasha with its full weight. Caught totally off-guard, she fell
backwards to the floor.  Her head cracked against the pavement, almost
drowning out the pain of ribs that gave under the wolf's weight on her
chest.

The flames flickered and died. As the spots faded from her eyes, Sasha
struggled for breath and looked up -- and found the wolf's mouth a few
inches from her face, its eyes gleaming a mad gold as it waited for her to
be aware. To understand that it was about to kill her.

But she wasn't going down that easily. She struggled, slamming her fists
into the wolf's ribs; he didn't seem to notice, except that his mad doggy
grin widened. His mouth opened, his fangs descending towards her neck --

- -- and she doubled up her legs and kicked with all her strength, planting
her feet firmly in its unprotected belly once, then twice. She heard ribs
crack -- not her own, this time -- as its breath rushed out in a stench of
blood and filth and it collapsed on her. With the strength of panic, she
wriggled out from underneath, but couldn't find her balance, or her knife.
The pipe lay several feet away; she lunged for it in desperation and her
fingertips brushed the cold metal.

Then claws sank into her leg and she screamed, rolling over and hitting out
blindly. Her leg came free, but the massive paws came down on her arms, the
weight of the wolf's body once more on her chest. She couldn't move,
couldn't breathe, couldn't even scream again. The world started going dark,
and she had a moment to be grateful that she wouldn't be conscious when she
died.

******

Angel somehow passed Greg on the way to the warehouse; he was the first to
smash his way through the side door, Buffy only a few steps behind. The
warehouse was full of smoke, fire spreading from the middle of the huge
main room. Silhouetted in front of the flames was the form of a huge wolf,
crouched over a human body lying all too still.

"Sasha!" Greg screamed from behind Buffy. She looked frantically for a
weapon, but Angel moved faster. In an eyeblink, with speed no mortal could
match, he was across the warehouse, tackling the wolf and using the weight
of his own body to force it off of Sasha. They fell to the floor beyond
her,  in a  snarling, vicious heap.

"Angel!" It was Buffy's turn to scream. A length of pipe lay a few feet
from Sasha's body; she ran forward to snatch it up, and positioned herself
as close to Angel as she dared, waiting for a chance to strike.

It wasn't coming. Both vampire and werewolf moved too quickly, wrestling
around on the floor, perilously close to the flames that would kill Angel
even faster than the werewolf. Angel somehow kept the wolf's teeth away
from his throat, and the wolf used its claws instead, trying to rake them
down Angel's sides and legs. Angel held on grimly, and somehow rolled again
so that the werewolf was on top.

The second he did, Buffy hauled off with the pipe and landed a home run in
the werewolf's rib cage, right on the ugly, still-bleeding gash over his
heart.

Knocked to the side, the wolf raised its head in a howl of anguished rage,
which gave Buffy the perfect target for her next swing. At the same time,
Angel kicked it in the ribs again and again, and finally got loose,
scrambling unsteadily to his feet. His game face was on, his eyes hard and
terrifying, as he grabbed a hunk of burning timber from the pile closest to
him.

The wolf managed to stand as well, head held low and body huddled around
its injuries. But its face, when it lifted its head, was still ugly,
promising revenge for its pain. It wasn't going to run this time, and Buffy
braced herself, sensing Angel leaning forward as if looking forward to the
fight.

The wolf lunged, not for Angel but for Buffy, teeth bared to catch her
throat, much faster than she'd expected. Angel shouted and shoved her out
of the way; she twisted with the push and got off another awkward swing
with the pipe, which glanced off one of the wolf's hind legs. It landed
awkwardly and turned immediately to try again. Angel faced it, knees bent
and arms outstretched, daring the wolf to take its best shot. The wolf
snarled back and gathered itself again, more than ready to try.

As it leapt for Angel, Sasha and Buffy shouted together and a silver blur
cut through the air in front of Buffy, terminating in the wolf's throat. It
gagged and fell forward, landing in an awkward heap, and Greg moved closer,
another knife ready in his hand.

Buffy looked up at him, more than a little shocked. "Circus act?"

Greg shook his head and grinned without looking away from the wolf, which
was hacking and choking around the knife in its throat. "I've seen 'The
Magnificent Seven' 43 times. It was throwing knives or a six-shooter, and a
Gypsy carrying a gun just looks *bad*."

Buffy grimaced. "You should trying hauling around stakes.... Look out!" It
was her turn to shove Greg out of the way as Angel shouted a warning, and
the wolf somehow found strength enough to lunge for them again. But it
didn't try to attack this time; it just wanted out.

It ran for the closest door, and Buffy yelled, "Don't let it get loose!"

"No kidding!" Greg shouted back. Angel somehow beat the stumbling wolf to
the door and batted it back with his improvised club. The wolf barely
seemed to notice the blow, or the fact that its fur was on fire in three or
four places now. It turned wildly, looking for another way out, but Buffy
came at it from one side, brandishing her pipe; Greg came from the other,
silver knife still in a throwing grip, gleaming dully even through the haze
of smoke.

The wolf backed away from them all, growling low in its throat. Its eyes
were hunted now, and as its glare focused on Greg, Buffy suddenly
remembered all of those warnings about trapped animals. "Watch it!"

Her warning was a second too late. Greg stumbled back, knife raised in what
suddenly seemed a pitiful defense against 200 pounds of desperate predator,
as the wolf went for his throat --

- -- and bounced back as if it had suddenly hit a brick wall, as Sasha's
voice shouted a stream of liquid, unintelligible words across the
warehouse. The wolf scrabbled in place on the floor, as if trying to claw
through walls that weren't there. At least, Buffy couldn't see them.

"Don't worry." Buffy turned slowly to stare at Sasha, who was teetering
unsteadily near the pile of burning crates that had apparently started the
mess. Even through the eye-tearing smoke, Sasha looked like hell, her jeans
clawed to ribbons and her face pale as death. But that same face was also
calm and very certain.

Wordlessly, Greg crossed the warehouse to offer Sasha a shoulder to lean
on, and she accepted it with obvious gratitude.  "He's warded now," the
chov-hani continued, reaching up with one bloody hand to shove tangled
blonde hair out of her eyes. "Shields that he can't break through. They'll
hold him until we're finished with him."

Oh." Buffy looked back at the werewolf, who certainly didn't *look* like he
going anywhere, clawing and biting frantically at invisible bars. "Cool. I
don't suppose you can do anything about the fire, before the Sunnydale Fire
Department shows up? They'll get kind of suspicious if they find me in the
middle of *another* burning building."

Sasha raised an eyebrow, somehow managing to look amused even when the hell
had been kicked out of her. "You do this often?" Without waiting for an
answer, she lifted one hand and said something as unintelligible as before,
but more familiar; Buffy recognized the words that had stopped the fire on
Sasha's hands the night before.. Instantly, the flames flickered and
lowered, before dying away altogether.

In the sudden silence, vampire, Slayer and Gypsies blinked at each other,
not sure what to say or do next.  Then Sasha suddenly focused, looking up
at Greg as if seeing him for the first time. "Greg? What the hell are you
doing here? I thought you were in jail?"

Greg grinned again; it seemed to be his permanent expression. "I got out.
Just in time, too; I can't leave you alone for five minutes."

"Bite me, cuz," she responded without heat, as the door to the warehouse
flew open and Slayerettes and Gypsies spilled through. "Grandmother? Van?
What in all holy hells are you doing here? I told you *I'd* take care of
this!"

"Well, you're sure doing a helluva job, Cuz!" the dark man whose name Buffy
had never bother to get shouted back. "If Grandmother hadn't been able to
track you....!"

"Looks like it's explanation time," Buffy sighed, as Giles rushed forward
burbling about breaking curses, Xander and Willow rushed forward to make
sure Buffy was all right, and Sasha and her cousins started hollering at
each other in yet another foreign language. "Gee, I love this part."

Angel put his hands on her shoulders from behind and she leaned back
against him. "Could be worse," he said quietly, just before the onslaught
hit. "At least we've still got the Rom outnumbered."

Buffy shoved her elbow into his ribs.


- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
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: Wed, 21 Jan 1998 22:36:52 -0600 (CST)
From: [e-mail] (Perri Smith)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Ill Met By Moonlight, Part 17 of 19

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

Ill Met By Moonlight (17/19)
By Perri Smith
Copyright 1998


Part 16

".... it seemed like a good idea at the time," Sasha finished helplessly,
spreading her hands. Giles 'tutted' at her for moving and she pulled them
back into his reach so he could finish inspecting the various cuts and
bruises she'd accumulated this time. "I didn't want anyone else to get
hurt," she continued, looking guiltily at Xander, "and I thought Kriston's
sense of self-preservation might kick in if I pointed out exactly what he
was up against."

"And when it didn't?" Buffy demanded, leaning forward on the crate she'd
commandeered for a seat. "Did you have a plan for getting away?"

"Yes," Sash shot back. "You. I expected the cavalry to jump him from behind
while I was distracting him from the front, which it did, but I had
expected it sometime *before* moonrise. What the hell took you so long to
get that damn e-mail, anyway?"

"Ever heard of paper?"

"And let Giles find it and have all of you show up too early, which would
have totally defeated the purpose of coming alone? I don't *think* so!"

"Yeah, why start thinking now?" Sasha turned to glare at Greg, who returned
an identical glare that Van echoed. Giles, perhaps sensing imminent
bloodshed, stood, putting himself between the three.

"You appear to be in rather better shape than I'd expected," he told her,
"but I would recommend a trip to the emergency room as soon as possible.
I'm not precisely equipped to deal with cracked ribs, and you have
several."

Sasha winced and touched her left side. "Tell me something I *don't* know.
Did you know you can hear your own bones breaking?"

Xander got in with the two male Gypsies on the shared expressions of
disgust this time. "No, but thank you for sharing," he grimaced.

"You're welcome," Sasha smiled sweetly, deranged sense of humor apparently
not at all affected by broken bones.

Buffy rolled her eyes at them collectively.  "Before anyone goes anywhere,
we have this little matter of a werewolf to deal with?" she reminded
everyone, gesturing at the wolf. It was crouching several feet away from
where everyone had gathered, staring at them with steady, hate-filled eyes.
Buffy shuddered and looked away.

"Oh, right." Sasha followed her eyes and made a face. "That. Giles, did I
hear you babbling something about a way to break the curse before, or was
that just a pain-induced hallucination?"

Giles looked as if he didn't quite know how to answer that; Sasha's
grandmother, who had been staying quietly out to the edge of the
conversation until now, answered for him. "We have," she answered simply.

Everyone else waited. "Aaand?" Buffy finally prompted. She was getting
*really* tired of having to yank information out of people.

The old woman shrugged with one shoulder, as if the answer should be
obvious. "Sasha must negate the curse she laid. Then all will return to
normal."

"Oh, yeah, that's helpful," Sasha groaned, closing her eyes. "Details,
Grandmother, details. No more spellcasting without *full* disclosure, damn
it! And didn't we try this 'nullfying' thing before? Like, three times?"

Iraina Lakatos sat on her overturned crate like a queen on her throne, chin
high and eyes calm. "You tried, yes, but did not believe. Now, you believe.
So all will be well."

Buffy looked at the old woman, then back at Sasha. "Does she always talk
like a fortune cookie?"

"Yes," the Lakatos cousins answered in unison. Their grandmother gave them
a disdainful look, but said nothing.

Buffy shook her head, bemused. "I'm starting to see how you got into all of
this trouble to begin with. It really *is* hereditary."

Sasha snorted, then winced when it hurt her ribs. "You should see what we
get into at the family reunions...."

"Been there, done that," Angel said under his breath, earning himself the
united attention of the entire Lakatos clan.

"What's *he* doing here, anyway?" Van asked irritably, fingering something
under his jacket that looked suspiciously like a stake.

"He's helping," Sasha snapped before Buffy had the chance, earning her
shocked looks from the Slayerettes. Angel's face was unreadable. "And he
saved my butt, so just chill!"

But he's..." Van protested.

Sasha cut him off. "I know who he is... Who he *was*. But curses...
sometimes don't work out like we plan, okay?" She said the last with a
pointed look towards her grandmother, who pursed her lips, then nodded
acknowledgment of the point.

Van aimed another dark look at Angel, but sat back. Greg looked still
looked hostile, but also interested, and his smile hadn't budged. He
imitated Van, sitting back to wait.

Sasha nodded in satisfaction and returned her attention to her grandmother
and Giles. "So, we're in Peter Pan land now, huh? If I believe, I can fly?
Do I have to think happy thoughts, too?"

For all the sarcasm in Sasha's voice, it trembled slightly, and Buffy
realized the older girl was scared to death. Giles apparently did, too,
since Buffy saw him bite back at least three cutting responses.

"No, I don't believe happy thoughts are required," he finally said with
forced patience. "But certainly belief is. All the magical ability in the
world will do you very little good if you don't believe in your ability to
use it. Magic is fussy that way."

"Wait a minute," Buffy jumped into the conversation. "If she couldn't break
the curse because she didn't believe, how come she could cast it in the
first place?"

"Well, ah... Excellent question," Giles admitted. "Sasha? Mrs....
er...ah..." He fumbled for somethign to call Sasha's grandmother.

"Rani Lakatos will do," she inclined her head and Giles looked relieved.

Sasha just looked guilty, carefully looking anywhere but at her
grandmother. "Well, I was... kind of really trying to prove it wasn't real.
I guess I might have... tried a little too hard. Kinda put my heart into it
and all that."

Rani Lakatos shook her head. "You should have had more faith in me, Sasha."

Sasha looked at her incredulously. "Oh, and this mess is supposed to make
me happy and trusting of magic? Yeah, right."

"I did not intend for this," Her grandmother snapped, losing her cool for
the first time. The resemblance between her and her great-grandchildren was
suddenly very marked. "I *never* intended this!"

"Then why did it happen?" Sasha snapped back. "Why did you let me turn a
werewolf loose?"

"It doesn't matter who intended what," Greg intervened before their
grandmother could answer. "Let's get it fixed and worry about blame later."

"Quite." Giles rushed to keep the conversation on track. "From what your
grandmother has told me, Sasha, we have come up with a ritual which
*should* work to reverse the binding. But it will have to be you who casts
it, I'm afraid."

Sasha nodded once, her lips tight, and stood with help from her cousins.
They hovered near her as she asked, "What do I do?"

*****

The warehouse was dark as night, lit only by the faint flicker of candles,
set in a pentagram around a snarling, fighting figure the struggled against
thin air. Three Gypsies watched, arranged in a circle around the chov-hani,
their hands clapping a pattern that matched Sasha's words, echoing off the
walls of the warehouse. Sasha's voice rose, quickened, and she shouted out
the last words of the spell in triumph.

And nothing happened.

"Damn it!" Sasha yelled. The candles they had lit in a pentacle around the
wolf had flickered only in the breeze from the open doors; there had been
nothing like the rush of power, of wind and fire she'd felt the night she'd
cast the curse. And if she'd needed further proof that it hadn't worked,
there was the werewolf, still crouched in the middle of the pentacle,
watching her with an expression that combined hatred and smug amusement at
her expense.

"Bite me," she muttered in the wolf's general direction, before spinning on
Giles and her grandmother. "Okay, so what the hell went wrong? I did the
ritual, god knows I believed it would work, so why didn't it work?"

Giles stammered and shoved his glasses up and even her grandmother looked
disturbed. Everyone else looked varying degrees of resigned and confused.

They'd cleared out the center of the warehouse around the wolf, giving
Sasha room to work and the others room to stay out of her way. Willow and
Xander were well out range near the door, Xander standing protectively in
front of Willow. Buffy and Angelus stood equally protectively in front of
him; Xander's face seemed torn between gratitude and resentment.

As far away from both the wolf and the vampire as they could get, Van and
Greg formed an honor guard around their grandmother. Everyone had learned
to be leery of werewolves and Romani magic; they were keeping their
distance.

"Maybe you can't break it," Xander suggested tentatively, after a long
moment of tense silence. "Maybe we'll have to... um...."

*Kill it. Kill him.* They all heard the unspoken part of his sentence;
Sasha looked at him, then away, not wanting to accept it. There had to be a
way... Kriston was a lunatic, but she couldn't kill him. She couldn't put
more blood on her hands....

A hand touched her shoulder; Giles looked at her sympathetically. "It...may
be the only way, Sasha. He cannot be allowed to wander free, and you cannot
ward him forever.".

"There *has* to be something else," Sasha said, almost pleading. "Something
we missed, something that went wrong. Please, we can't give up yet!"

Giles sighed, taking off his glasses to polish them. "I'm afraid I've
rather run out of ideas."

"You really ought to think about how to get out of curses before you start
tossing them around," Angelus commented sarcastically. "How the hell has
your clan survived this long?"

Van, Greg and Iraina Lakatos turned on Angelus in unison. "By disposing of
trouble when we find it," Van gritted from between clenched teeth. "Maybe
we should just forget about curses and get rid of *you*!"

"That's been tried," Angelus smiled, meeting the Rom's joined hostility
without flinching, his face hard. Buffy looked between him and the Rom,
then her face also tightened and she slipped into fighting stance,
obviously prepared to defend him. Behind her, Xander looked spooked, but
also braced himself for a fight. The warehouse suddenly looked like the
last fight scene in West Side Story.

Sasha watched it all with one detached part of her mind; the rest was busy
twisting over what Angelus had just said, putting logic together with
instinct together with belief... and the puzzle locked into place in her
mind.

"Stop it!" Sasha's voice cut through the tense air like a knife. The
combatants, having totally forgotten all about little things like a
werewolf and a witch in their bone-deep urge to kill each other, jumped and
faced her. She didn't even roll her eyes at them, thinking fast and
frantically. "I know what went wrong; I know why it didn't work. And I know
how to fix it."

She turned to her grandmother and Giles. "When we cast the curse that first
night, it was with the whole clan there, watching and helping. Could that
be why this didn't work? I didn't have the kind of... support to draw from
that I had when I laid the curse, so I wasn't strong enough to break the
curse." She ran back over the convoluted sentence in her mind, decided that
no, it didn't make sense but no, she didn't care.

Giles and her grandmother apparently didn't care either; Giles had the
abstracted expression that suggested he was researching in his mind, and
her grandmother nodded thoughtfully. "I could be true," she said finally.
"But we do not have the clan to draw on now, and no time to bring them
here, and neither of your cousins has the power to draw from...."

"Yeah, I know," Sasha nodded, leaning forward in her intensity. "But there
might be another option.

Giles and Iraina followed her look... to Angelus and Buffy, watching them
suspiciously. Their suspicion deepened as they became the focus of the
three looks, but Giles nodded slowly, revelation dawning on his face. "Of
course," he breathed. "Natural opposites, the power flow.... But Sasha --
can you control it?"

Sasha shrugged. "I apparently channeled an entire clan; hopefully, I can
handle these two. With a little help."

Angelus suddenly got it. "Oh, no," he said firmly, backing up. "No *way* am
I going to get involved in another Gypsy curse. Find some other idiot!"

Sasha smiled sweetly at him. "Sorry, Angelus, you're the only qualified
idiot around."

"No. Way." His voice held absolutely no room for argument.

Van started to say something; Sasha cut him off with a look that surprised
even her and he subsided, looking startled and oddly respectful. Sasha took
a deep breath, and willed her voice to stay under control as she walked
over to Angelus.

The closer she got, the more her instincts hammered at her to run or fight,
to do *anything* against the vampire. She shoved them back; this was too
important. "Angelu-- *Angel*. I can't make you - either of you," she
amended with a glance at Buffy "-- do this. I can't order you into the
circle, and I understand every reason you don't want to go. But I'm asking
you."

She met his eyes and held them. "Please, Angel. I made a mistake, and I'm
*asking* you... Help me fix it."

He met her eyes evenly, if unwillingly, his jaw so tight she could see a
muscle jump along it. Sasha held her breath, praying for a trust that went
against everything both of them knew. But, finally, he closed his eyes and
nodded once. "All right."

Buffy, who had watched the confrontation silently, echoed the nod, taking
Angel's hand. "I'm in, too. What do we have to do?"

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