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From: owner-buffyfic@lists.xmission.com (Buffyfic-digest)
To: buffyfic-digest@lists.xmission.com
Subject: Buffyfic-digest V2 #31
Reply-To: buffyfic@xmission.com
Sender: owner-buffyfic@lists.xmission.com
Errors-To: owner-buffyfic@lists.xmission.com
Precedence: bulk
Buffyfic-digest Monday, February 9 1998 Volume 02 : Number 031
In this issue:
BUFFYFIC: Let Me Count the Ways.... (1/7)
BUFFYFIC: Let Me Count the Ways.... (0/7)
BUFFYFIC: Let Me Count the Ways.... (2/7)
BUFFYFIC: Let me count the Ways.... (3/7)
BUFFYFIC: Let Me Count the Ways.... (4/7)
BUFFYFIC: DISCUSS: Let Me Count the Ways....
BUFFYFIC: round robin on atbc
BUFFYFIC: DISCUSS: Challenge Fic
BUFFYFIC: Let Me Count the Ways.... (5/7)
See the end of the digest for information on subscribing to the buffyfic
or buffyfic-digest mailing lists and on how to retrieve back issues.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Date: Sun, 08 Feb 1998 22:33:14
From: "L.D. Steele" <steele@lillonet.org>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Let Me Count the Ways.... (1/7)
Title: Let Me Count the Ways....
By: Dawn Steele
Email: steele@lillonet.org
Disclaimer: They all belong to Joss. I'm making no profit beyond the
enjoyment
of writing the characters. What doesn't belong to Joss belongs to
Mutant Enemy, Inc.
Distribution: SunS web site, Anya's archive if she wants. All other's ask.
Spoilers: "Innocence", references to events in "Phases". AU after that.
Rating: Adult (BTVS type violence) to R (stronger violence than seen on
BTVS)
Feedback: I'd love some. :)
Let Me Count the Ways.... (1/7)
By: Dawn Steele (steele@lillonet.org)
Giles was exhausted in so many ways. The days had run on to weeks, with
every spare moment spent searching through tome upon tome in his library.
He'd begged, borrowed and ... taken a permanent loan on books from other
Watchers and demonologists.
Every extra second spent in his search for a spell that would bring
Angel's soul back. Time stolen after Buffy had finished her training for
the day,
and in between other projects that needed more immediate attention.
He wanted to erase the shadows that ran so freely behind Buffy's eyes. He
wanted her to be happy... even if that meant fighting desperately to
imprison a soul along side a demon. It wouldn't be the first questionable
spell he'd cast, but he hoped it would be the last.
In the end, he'd had to improvise. Cobbling together 4 different spells,
and hoping desperately that any side-effects would cancel out.
He blinked, and poured himself another cup of tea. Earlier on in the
evening, he'd stopped dumping out the used tea bags and each pot became
blacker and more bitter. He swallowed grimly, wishing he could wait another
night and check the spell over again. But the stars portended good results,
and the night was quickly passing. He shivered, realizing that the thought
of comforting Buffy over yet another person Angelus had killed was also a
contributing factor.
One of the teabags had burst, and Giles looked at them swimming at the
bottome of the cup with the last mouthful of tea. They could almost be
forming patterns....
He set the tea cup down at the table, and closed his books. All his quickly
done preparations were in order. It was now or never.
The pentagram had been painted on his basement floor, and various offering
lay in each of the five arms. Giles stepped into the centre where a tall
candle, and a notebook with his precise scribblings awaited. He rolled up
the sleeves of his wrinkled white shirt, and took out a book of matches.
The candle was black and its light flickered uneasily against the walls.
Giles began to speak.
"Ein blot...:"
The words were a confusing mixture of languages. Latin appeared
the most often, but whole sentences were in Italian or French, and a Middle
Eastern language in which his pronounciation was shaky.
"... pas sur soleil, et pas entre ..."
With each word, Giles felt the air of the room grow heavier. Presenses --
demons, angels and others, awaited for an opening -- most were unfriendly.
His arms started to feel like lead, and he struggled to perform the
necessary gestures. The false energy the caffeine had given was fast
departing and Giles felt as if gravity had decided to play tricks and
increase tenfold.
Reaching over into one of the pentacle arms, he tipped the small bowl
holding holy water into the one filled with human blood.
"... tynatos von meran ... "
Sweat ran down his face, and Giles heart started pounding even harder when
he heard the basement door start to shake. A hand punched through the
flimsy wooden barrier, and reached inside to unlock it.
The hand was smoking.
Giles lifted a small crucifix from around his neck, and carefully wrapped
the chain around the jade bowl filled with the blood and water mixture. He
noticed that it had started to bubble. The spell was almost finished.
Angelus was almost at the bottom of the stair when Giles flipped open the
switchblade and cut across his forearm. There. This was it. The final words.
"... sacrifice will you be free."
The blood dripped onto the crucifix, and Angelus screamed. His face was
cortorted, and his skin was red with wisps of smoke emerging from his
entire body. His eyes shone green and full of hate.
The sound echoed in the dark basement, and Giles watched in horror as
blood started to trickle from Angelus' eyes and mouth. He reached for the
crossbow he'd aside aside earlier, but it wasn't needed.
With a final moan, Angelus fell to his knees and then slumped limply to the
floor. His skin was cracked and blistered, but his face had relaxed
back into human features. Blood dripped from eyes that stared confusedly at
the ceiling.
Keeping a firm grip on the crossbow, Giles took a step closer. Bending
down, he pushed aside a still arm but instead of reaching up to choke him, it
fell limply to the floor. He turned the face so that he could look into
the eyes.
The eyes were human again, and Giles recognized the intelligence behind them.
A grimace and Giles saw the mouth move without a sound. He tried again, and
this time Giles heard the words emerge; faint but recognizable.
"Thank You."
The eyes dimmed and turned blank.
And Giles was left with an empty dead body, a wrecked basement, and the
knowledge of success failure.
(end of version 1)
- -
------------------------------
Date: Sun, 08 Feb 1998 22:15:54
From: "L.D. Steele" <steele@lillonet.org>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Let Me Count the Ways.... (0/7)
Yeah. This is the explanation. Delete at will! :)
After "Innocence" aired, the SunS Buffy list started being barraged by
stories with Angelus torturing the Slayerettes and Co. After a few of these
EvilFic... it got to the point where... let's just say that even w/o
seeing "Innocence", I wanted Angelus dead. Perhaps even <tortured> and then
dead.
So I thought about how I dealt/deal with nightmares.
1) I wake up before anything nasty happens.
2) I change the dream into a different direction, or
3) I beat the @#$# out of the nightmare.
As you probably guessed. I decided to go with number three.
The following seven pieces are AU (alternate universe) vignettes staring:
Giles, Willow, Xander, Cordelia, Jenny, Spike&Dru, and finally Buffy. They
can be read in any order, and range from slightly humourous to very violent
(R for violent imagery). About the only common denominator is that Angelus
<doesn't> come out on top. <EG>
Wanna read? <g>
I'd love feedback about these. They are, essentially, character studies,
and I'm interested to see if you agree that I "caught" the essense of each
character.
Thanks go out to my beta readers: Chris, Perri, Tina and Dianne for giving
comments. And -- of course -- to the entire SunS list for w/o them I
wouldn't have been inspired to write these.
Dawn Steele
steele@lillonet.org
- -
------------------------------
Date: Sun, 08 Feb 1998 22:33:33
From: "L.D. Steele" <steele@lillonet.org>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Let Me Count the Ways.... (2/7)
Title: Let Me Count the Ways....
By: Dawn Steele
Email: steele@lillonet.org
Disclaimer: They all belong to Joss. I'm making no profit beyond the
enjoyment
of writing the characters. What doesn't belong to Joss belongs to
Mutant Enemy, Inc.
Distribution: SunS web site, Anya's archive if she wants. All other's ask.
Spoilers: "Innocence", references to events in "Phases". AU after that.
Rating: Adult (BTVS type violence) to R (stronger violence than seen on
BTVS)
Feedback: I'd love some. :)
Let Me Count the Ways.... (part 2/7)
By: Dawn Steele (steele@lillonet.org)
Willow wasn't sleeping well.
She counted sheep, she counted numbers -- she even counted prime numbers
but that got confusing after a while.
Logic dictated that she figure out why she couldn't sleep, deal with it and
be done with. Unfortunately, logic had nothing to do with it. She'd <done>
everything she could thing of.
But she was still scared.
Shivering, she rubbed her neck. The bruises where Angel's hands had gripped
her had faded a couple of days ago. She'd had to go through her supply of
turtlenecks. That had raised a few eyebrows from her parents since the
California weather, as usual, had been both warm and dry. They probably
thought Oz had given her a hickey and she'd been embarassed about it -- and
she would have been... if that had been the reason.
Instead, she had been hot, uncomfortable... and scared.
She'd seen Angel's face just after Ms. Calendar had driven him off with the
cross. And she'd felt the determined grip in his hands. He had <wanted> to
hurt her. To break her neck and kill her.
Willow curled up into a fetal position, arms crossed and hugged her knees.
What if he came after her again? She'd invited him into her room. He could
come back any time he wanted... He could go after her parents and then go
after her... He could break her neck the way he'd intended to, and her
parents would never know who'd done it... He could...
There was nothing she could do to protect them. The truth would only put
them in greater danger.
Willow groaned, reached out, and grabbed Mr. Max. She took the small
stuffed dog and squeezed him until he was flat and comforting. Wrapping the
blankets around her, she tried to get into a comfortable position.
Closing her eyes, she decided to practice counting prime numbers again.
*one, two, three....*
~/what was that sound?/~
*five, seven, eleven....*
Willow forced herself to keep her eyes closed. There wasn't anybody leaning
over her now -- just like there wasn't anybody leaning over her the last
eighteen times she'd imagined it.
*thirteen, seventeen, nineteen, twentythree...*
She felt a breeze blow across her face like someone breathing except
colder. Willow squeezed her eyes shut, and held onto the blankets with a
deathgrip. It was a breeze from the window that she had firmly shut earlier
that
night. It was just her imagination. Just like the feel of the mattress moving
was her imagination, just like, just like...
Willow realized her heart was pounding.
The feel of the hand over her mouth made it go into overdrive.
"Shh... Don't scream. You don't really want your parents in your room right
now."
The darkness hid most of his body, and the dark clothes he was wearing
blended in perfectly. Light from the window played against the light skin
on the face that was directly over hers.
She felt his body readjust until he was half lying over her. The pressure
made her want to throw up.
"Or maybe you do." He started smiling. "Are you going to scream, or can we
have a final conversation before I kill you?"
Trying to move her head back and forth, Willow discovered that his hand was
holding her head too firmly against the pillow for it to move. She was
going to have bruises again tomorrow.
Or maybe tomorrow she'd be dead and it wouldn't matter.
He must have felt her trying to move because he released his hold on her
mouth. With a relaxed gesture, he sprawled on his back beside her, and
tucked his arm underneath her neck.
"I've always liked you." Angel pulled her closer and quickly kissed the top
of her head. "Young, smart, and pretty much helpless -- definite turn-ons."
He adjusted her body, so that it was tucked up next to him.
"What do you want?"
"See what I mean?" Willow felt his hand pat her on the tummy just below the
belly button. "No screaming, no whining, no fainting... although I *do*
remember you fainting once. Maybe I'm thinking about someone else."
He moved again so that he was crouching over her, and then sat down on her
legs. "You <do> babble, and I hate that... so I've decided to kill you
instead of turning you into a vampire. I get enough nonsense talk from Dru."
"Babble? I don't babble. I never babble unless I've got a really good
reason, maybe this isn't the best time, but this really is a good reason
and..." Her legs were starting to go numb.
The hand went over her mouth again, except this time his hand covered her
nose as well. A few seconds, and Willow felt as if she was trapped
under water.
"Ooph!" Willow gasped. Blessed air rushed through her lungs.
Angel was still sitting on her legs, but he was looking over her room with
a distracted air. "How do you want to die?"
"I don't, I don't wanna die!" Willow couldn't help it. She moaned, hating
herself as she did it.
"No, no, no!" He smiled wickedly down at her. "You're not playing the game!"
She closed her eyes to shut out that face. She could still hear his voice,
but at least she didn't have to look at him.
His hands moved over her body again. "There are just <so> many
possibilities... I know you must know some of the frailties of the human
body. So many ways, so many..."
"Urk!"
Willow felt Angel being lifted from on top of her. Buffy? Had her other
precautions
been activated? Cautiously, she opened an eye. Then she scooted towards the
back of the bed, and threw off the covers.
Angel's tall form was being lifted off the ground by thick metallic arms,
and metal pincers connected his neck to the neck of...
"I... I didn't know if it would work, and I'm really sorry, but I was <so>
scared, and..."
She looked over at her creation. It stood higher than Angel, with curved
metal horns coming out of its heads, and glowing red eyes. She'd modified
it of course; the metal pincers being the most recent addition.
"I couldn't figure out what to do, and then I remembered all the parts I've
been putting together over the last few months." Willow could tell the
metal pincers were starting to dig in, but slowly. She'd been unsure as to
the correct strength of the motor behind it -- it looked like it should
have been stronger. It was cutting in <really> slowly. "It's got sensors that
are activated by large moving shapes with a below average body
temperature, and a few other things... Only a limited AI right now, but some
of the bits and pieces I got from that android that was dating Buffy mother
were really interesting and I've got some of those in there too."
Willow realized that she was babbling.
Sounds were coming from Angel's throat, but none of them loud enough to
wake up her parents. She stepped back out of the range of his feet as he
kicked about trying to get free.
"I'm really, really sorry Angel, but you were going to kill me and I was so
<scared> -- and I know you aren't really Angel anymore." She paused. "I
really liked you, and I'm sorry about this. I'm really sorry, but I don't
want to die...."
The metal pincers were starting to close. Willow shut her eyes firmly shut.
Willow heard a sound like flesh hitting against metal as Angel continued to
struggle, and then a soft explosion of air. Bits of dust fell against her
face.
She was going to have to clean up her room and change her bed before she'd
be able to get to sleep tonight.
"I'm so sorry."
"So very sorry."
(end of version two)
- -
------------------------------
Date: Sun, 08 Feb 1998 22:33:47
From: "L.D. Steele" <steele@lillonet.org>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Let me count the Ways.... (3/7)
Title: Let Me Count the Ways....
By: Dawn Steele
Email: steele@lillonet.org
Disclaimer: They all belong to Joss. I'm making no profit beyond the
enjoyment
of writing the characters. What doesn't belong to Joss belongs to
Mutant Enemy, Inc.
Distribution: SunS web site, Anya's archive if she wants. All other's ask.
Spoilers: "Innocence", references to events in "Phases". AU after that.
Rating: Adult (BTVS type violence) to R (stronger violence than seen on
BTVS)
Feedback: I'd love some. :)
Let me count the ways.... (3/7)
By Dawn Steele (steele@lillonet.org)
"Shit!"
A cool trinkle of coins started to fall down his pant leg as the hole he'd
been fooling with in his pocket suddenly assumed the size of the grand canyon.
Xander started jumping up and down on one leg, fully aware of the
impression he was probably making in the school hallway, but for one brief
moment, not really caring. All things considered, him making a bigger fool
of himself than he usually did wasn't high on his list of priorities.
With the last of them shaken out, he squated down and started picking them
up again. Coins were a too valuable vending machine resource to waste to
whatever tenth-grader who came along.
He never saw the hand coming.
Catching him off balance, the shove landed him flat on his butt and the
coins were scattered in a wide circle around him. "What the... !"
The cackle of laughter sent shivers down his back and he turned to catch
sight of a too familiar back. "That's just great." It looked like Kyle was
back from his little trip of <intensive counselling> and none the better in
behaviour for a little animal possession and canibalism. Xander carefully
stood up and started moving down the hall again.
The money just wasn't worth it.
His mood, far from bright to begin with, quickly lapsed into self-pity and
anger. Without even bothering to stop by his locker room, Xander found
himself in the library -- an empty one. Either Buffy and Giles were out
fighting demons and hadn't told him, or there just wasn't any after-school
fighting for him to interrupt and catch Buffy wearing spandex.
The thought of Buffy wearing spandex quickly turned into a series of images
about a whole series of girls in various pieces of clothing. Cordelia
featured highly, which both annoyed him more and increased his...
Xander flopped into one of the library chairs and started to stare at the
ceiling. Things were different. He'd just started getting used to who was
checking out whom, and the whole ball of wax started being tossed in six
different shades of the Hellmouth. Giles and Ms. Calender weren't speaking,
his bestest friend Willow was chasing after that hairy Oz fellow, and Angel
was...
"Angel is a bloodsucking, violent, psychopathic demon who's a complete
asshole."
The worst part of it was he knew Buffy still loved the creep, or past
creep, or the creep's now-gone soul, or ... "Hell."
Xander contemplated going home and scrounging a meal out of the cold pizza
that was now getting moldy on the kitchen counter. His parents were gone on
another trip to la-la land, leaving "you're old enough now" Xander to take
care of himself. Not that he'd ever done anything but.
He could go over to Willow's and talk her into helping him with his
homework. If she wasn't "out". Her parents were probably freaking with joy
that their darling daughter was finally going out with someone who wasn't
so obviously "goy". Not that his parents had ever even remotely tried to
teach him some religion beyond some crystal energy therapy and bouts of yoga.
Pushing his chair back with a screeched that echoed through the empty
library, Xander started towards his stash. He didn't know if Giles knew
about it yet, but the drawer had become a repository of Ho-Ho's, Twinkies
and chocoate bars.
He stuck around until he could hear all the doors of the school being
locked and then went out and got his books from his locker. Staring at
incomprehensible algebra here was better than staring at it at home. Maybe
if he was lucky some of the knowledge from the books around him would seep
into his brain.
Setting his books all around him, he picked up his pen and looked at the
incomprehensible notes he'd taken earlier that day. Willow wasn't even here
to figure out what he'd written. Slamming the math shut, Xander opened up
the book of American History. There was a test in two days, and putting the
textbook under his pillow at night didn't seem to be helping. He started to
read, and. . . .
Woke up to a giant crick in his neck, and the textbook lying in a crumpled
heap on the floor. Except for the dim light from the school halways, and
scattered reflections from the outside spotlights, the room was in
darkness. With a slightly twitching hand, he flipped on the light on the
table nearby. At least the school hadn't been able to replace the last
security guard, a fact that wasn't common knowledge among the students, but
one that Giles had passed on.
Shaking his head, he went over to his store of junk food again and pulled
out a can of forbidden pop. Giles would have fit about the possibility of
some fizzy sugarly slop being spilled in his precious sanctum, but the old
bookworm wasn't around to complain. Munching on his fourth chocolate bar
of the day, he filched out the extra set of keys Willow had made some
months ago, and opened Giles' office.
The place was an immaculate mess. Piles of books lines of neatly, with bits
and pieces of scrap paper marking Giles' latest finds. Notebooks piles up
firmly against the wall, and dust layered over the rows of school texts in
the back shelf that he'd never bothered to change from the previous tenant.
Xander opened a couple of the books, but quickly lost interest when he
realized that he didn't even know what language the books were in. He
dropped them back onto the pile in disgust and left the room with a scowl
blackening his face.
He was useless. A moron whose only role was to go out for junk food and
annoy Cordelia. His parent's barely knew he existed, his best friend was
ignoring him and about the only help he was to Buffy was as bait for
whatever freak was in Sunndydale.
He never saw the hand coming...
The table rushed towards him, and Xander found himself flying over it and
tumbling painfully to the ground on the other side. A ragged gasp excaped
him as he turned as quickly as he could.
The demon was grinning at him. A red haze of anger rushed through Xander
with a speed and force that pushed aside the fear.
"So the dead guy's visiting the library again. Finished playing koochikoo
with your old friends, and back to see if you still know how to read now
that you better half has split?"
"You always were a stupid waste of time." The demon's grin faded, but
Xander could still see the amusement in his eyes.
"Well, you were... were... "
"Tongue-tied? Do you want me to straighten it out for you?"
Xander looked at the familiar face with no sense of recognition and finally
realized how stupid he'd been in the past. Hating Angel all those months,
after Jesse had been killed when... he didn't even know the monster in
front of him.
But it knew him, and Buffy was nowhere around to save his sorry ass.
Adreneline rushed through his body, and he started to run. The next few
moments were a confused rush of flying books, being slammed into walls and
the sinking feeling that Angelus was playing with him.
Xander spotted the open doorway and made a flying rush to get past the
metal sides. He didn't care if it was a dead end, he just needed to. . . .
Angel was in front of him. Laughing.
With an inarticulate scream Xander used all his momentum to slam into him.
They both fell back, but Xander was the first out. Angelus was taking his
time playing with his latest toy and then it was too late.
The door of the cage slammed shut and Xander frantically pulled the
almost-forgotten keys from his pocket. The key broke off in the lock just
as Angelus started shaking the metal. His face had twisted up and the metal
was groaning.
But it was holding. Xander mentally thanked every extra second that he'd
spent helping Giles to rebuild and reinforce the cage after the hyenas tore
it down.
"This won't hold me." There was hate in his eyes, and he wasn't smiling
anymore. "I'm going to get out, and then I'm going to tear you into little
pieces."
Angelus dropped his arms, and took a step back. "Maybe I'll hide a piece
here, and a piece there... just so Buffy and her st-st-stuttering Watcher
will get
presents again and again... At least until I kill them too."
"Shut up!" The keys dropped from his hands and Xander started to back away.
This was his chance to get Giles or Buffy. He had to get to a phone and
call before he lost his nerve and decided to just start running from the
school.
He felt those eyes on his back every step to Giles' office. He was there
before he realized the keys were on the floor right in front of the cage.
Xander forced himself to go back.
"Did I ever tell you that a Slayer's blood is <delicious>? I was
planning on draining every last drop out of Buffy after I kill her. Maybe
hang her upside down and gut her like a pig." The smile was back. "Maybe
I'll have a party. Invite Spike, Drusilla and the whole gang."
"I hate you." It was softly spoken, but he knew the demon had heard him. He
picked up the keys and headed back for the office. Angelus had started
laughing.
There wasn't any answer at Giles' place.
Xander stared at the phone and tried to figure out what to do. He could
keep trying Giles until he finally came back from whereever he'd gone, or
he could call someone else. Willow or Ms. Calendar or Cordelia or Oz or ...
Buffy.
He knew he should call her. She was the Slayer. It was her job -- but he
couldn't do that to her. Not now. Not against Angelus. He couldn't let him
hurt her anymore.
He would just have to wait until Giles came back to his house or to the
library in the morning. He could handle this like a man and not go running
to hide behind a woman's skirts.
Xander surrounded himself with a mound of stakes, crossbows, maces and a
bottle of what was probably holy water. And he tried to phoning Giles --
over, and over, and over.
He fell asleep again a bit after three in the morning, to the accompaniment
of whispers and threats heard through the open door to the next room.
Dreams of blood and death kept him company. He fell asleep. . . .
And awoke to screams.
The room was bright again, and light was coming in through the library
skylight. Xander knocked over the pile of sharpened wood on the desk, and
after grabbing a crossbow, hurried into the next room.
The light had reached the corner of the small metal cage where Angelus had
squeezed himself. It was starting to move up his legs.
The screams stopped.
"You're dead! You're all dead! Walking bags of blood that deserve to be
ripped apart and splashed over the air!"
Where the light touched, tendrils of smoke rose. It was started to fill the
area where Angelus stayed and diffused the early morning light to a pearly
glow.
"You are nothing! Spike and Drusilla will come, or others in an endless
tide that you have <no> hope of winning." Angelus' face creased in a pained
grimace for a moment before smothing out again. "She cannot stand against
all of us. It won't be long. A careless moment. A turned back and she will
be dead."
"You're the one who's going to die." Xander felt limp with relief. Angelus
wasn't going to kill him. Angelus <couldn't> kill him.
"Are you going to tell her that you killed me? She still <loves> me."
Angelus started to laugh. "I have that to comfort me -- along with the
knowledge it won't be long before she's dead." The sunlight had almost
filled the box, and the smoke was making it hard to see.
The metal groaned as Angelus threw himself against it. Weakened bolts...
snapped and the door came crashing down.
Xander felt hands around his neck... and then a soft silt covered his face
and body.
And the day began.
(end of version 3)
- -
------------------------------
Date: Sun, 08 Feb 1998 22:34:00
From: "L.D. Steele" <steele@lillonet.org>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Let Me Count the Ways.... (4/7)
Title: Let Me Count the Ways....
By: Dawn Steele
Email: steele@lillonet.org
Disclaimer: They all belong to Joss. I'm making no profit beyond the
enjoyment
of writing the characters. What doesn't belong to Joss belongs to
Mutant Enemy, Inc.
Distribution: SunS web site, Anya's archive if she wants. All other's ask.
Spoilers: "Innocence", references to events in "Phases". AU after that.
Rating: Adult (BTVS type violence) to R (stronger violence than seen on
BTVS)
Feedback: I'd love some. :)
Also FYI -- for some weird reason, this one is one of my favs. <VEG>
The remaining three parts (#5-7) will be posted tomorrow.
******************************************************************************
Let Me Count the Ways.... (4/7)
By: Dawn Steele (steele@lillonet.org)
Cordelia increased the pressure on the accelerator, and wished angrily that
the car had an ejection passenger seat.
Then she started mentally listing the people she'd send into the stars
above. Number one on the list was its current occupant, Hope.
"... saw the yellow one on sale at Saks, and just <knew> I had to have it,
so I talked to Daddy and he put it on his plastic." She smiled vacantly in
Cordelia's direction, and continued flipping through her fashion magazine.
"I know that you have one like it, but this was at <Saks>! You don't mind,
right?"
"If I wanted to be your twin, I'd get a bottle of peroxide and drink enough
vodka martinis to kill 3 billion brain cells and be at your intellectual
level. What do you <think>?" Cordelia pressed on the accelerator some more.
"You <know> I'm planning on wearing my new yellow dress to the party."
"Yeah, but I <really> like the dress. You don't mind, right? You're just
saying you mind, but you really don't -- right?"
Her voice had taken a tone that was starting to grate on Cordelia's nerves.
She'd accepted Hope into her group almost two weeks ago, and had regretted
it almost immediately. Sure, she knew how to properly do her makeup, and
had knowledge of all the best places to eat in San Francisco, but had an
inability to see that when Cordelia told her to do something, you <did> it.
Sure, she'd lost a few members due to various unfortunate Sunnydale High
accidents, but you had to have <some> standards.
"Hey! Cute guy!" Hope was pointing out the window at someone standing at
the side of the road, probably looking to get picked up. Cordelia didn't
get a good look at him as she flashed by. He didn't stand a chance of
getting picked up -- not on a back road this late at night.
The next thing she knew, Hope was screaming and the car was starting to
lurch all over the road.
An arm punched through the top of the car, and grabbed Hope's hair. It
pulled her upwards, screams and all, until her head forced its way through
the roof. Reams of blood streamed downward, and splattered all over
both the interior and Cordelia -- who was frantically swerving the car back
and forth in an effort to shake him off.
And she had a pretty good idea who "he" was. She'd heard about Theresa from
Buffy. Gotten a warning to limit her time at the Bronze and not to invite
any strangers into her house. She'd ignored the first, since a social death
was <not> preferable to a real one, but she'd tried to talk to her parents
about the latter. They'd just ignored her -- per usual.
Now a vampire was on top of her car, and ruining the interior! Cordelia
swerved the car in a semi-circle and floored the car. Maybe she could get
to Buffy's home in time. Buffy might be there. Buffy could handle it. She was
good at killing things.
She forced herself to stay angry. Staying angry prevented her from being
terrified, and pushed aside thoughts of what was happening to Hope. She
was not going to be killed just to punish Buffy. She was too <important> to
die like that!
Hope's moans, faintly heard above the roars of the car's engine, stopped.
She slammed on the brakes.
A dark clad body flew over the roof and rolled on the ground in front of
the car. Hope's body fell back into the car and slumped limply to one side.
Cordelia knew exactly what to do.
Without giving herself time to think, or him to react, Cordelia pushed the
accelerator to the floor and ran over him.
She winced as the car shifted up and down, but then she was past him.
Cordelia looked into the rear view mirrow.
The bastard was getting up.
Shifting into reverse, she aimed at him and smiled in satisfaction as he
hit the rear bumber with a sound that would make any insurance agent wince.
She slowed down to let the body drop, and then drove over him again.
And then again... and again... and again.
Hope's head had moved over to rest on Cordelia's lap. When she pushed her
over towards the passenger seat, her hand came away covered in blood.
So she ran over him again.
He wasn't moving.
Cordelia thought about driving away. She could. Angel wasn't moving, and
she could go and get Buffy. Absently, she wiped the blood off her hand
against the car seat. Then she thought about what he could do to her later
if he managed to get away before she got back with Buffy -- and ran over
him again just for safety's sake.
Parking a few feet away, Cordelia left the engine running and opened her
door wide before cautiously stepping out and popping the trunk latch. She
reached inside for the tent bag she'd started keeping inside a couple of
months before. The orange clashed with the sporty red of her car, but she'd
firmly ignored her friends comments when they saw it, and left it there.
Unzipping the bag, she reached for one of the wooden tent pegs and the
hammer. The pegs were painted the same fluorescent orange colour as the bag
and the tent itself but she doubted that mattered.
Cordelia walked over to where Angel's body lay. Both his legs were bent at
impossible angles, and his face was... She forced herself to place the peg
on his chest and gave the top an experimental "tap".
It didn't even go through the leather jacket he was wearing.
Her hand was shaking, but she unsnapped the jacket and replaced the tent
peg. Then she took a firmer grip on the hammer. She hadn't used one since
that ridiculous mandatory "Industrial Arts" course in the seventh grade.
This time it went in. The sound as it did made her shiver.
Hitting the peg as hard as she could, it took a couple more swings before
it was
almost though him. The body had jerked upwards with each blow, and with the
amount of resistance she'd probably hit bone. She stepped back and waited for
his body to disappear.
It didn't.
"Damn!"
Cordelia ran back to the car, got another tent peg, and then rushed back.
"Okay, okay. I took Biology 11 this term. Remember the quiz on human
anatomy? I got 76 on that test! I should know where the hell the heart is!"
She placed the peg to the right of the first one and about an inch apart.
And screamed when something grabbed her foot.
Looking down, she saw Angel's smashed face break out into a twisted grin as
he steadily increased the pressure on her ankle. "Cordelia..."
Cordelia kept on screaming as she slammed the hammer down again.
She whimpered as she felt her ankle twist and break under his grip.
And she moaned as his body turned to dust and left her lying in the middle
of the road in violent pain and covered in blood.
(end of version 4)
**************
What? Angelus had to have at least <one> word! <EG>
- -
------------------------------
Date: Sun, 08 Feb 1998 22:37:56
From: "L.D. Steele" <steele@lillonet.org>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: DISCUSS: Let Me Count the Ways....
So much for making the disclaimer and other info neat and
tidy. :)
I'll fix it before sending the last three.
Dawn
steele@lillonet.org
- -
------------------------------
Date: Mon, 09 Feb 98 12:55:51 PST
From: "Sapphire" <sapphire@chaos.taylored.com>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: round robin on atbc
To those interested...there is going to be a round robin fanfic started
at alt.tv.buffy-v-slayer.creative
See the newsgroup for details.
Sapphire: sapphire@chaos.taylored.com
X-Over Crossover list admin: X-Over: XF Crossover archive
http://www.busprod.com/aclaybor/xover/
Gossamer XF Specialty Archive: http://www.busprod.com/aclaybor
SPCDD; LOMIG: http://www.busprod.com/aclaybor/lomig ; G-Woman #3
Keeper of Willow's mometary obsession with sore thumbs
- -
------------------------------
Date: Mon, 9 Feb 1998 15:47:19 -0500
From: ingrid29@juno.com (Ingrid E Stanton)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: DISCUSS: Challenge Fic
Ooh! I love challenges. This is a great idea!!! Let me know how it goes.
- -Ingrid
"I know. I look like Willow, I act like Willow... I guess I am Willow!"
_____________________________________________________________________
You don't need to buy Internet access to use free Internet e-mail.
Get completely free e-mail from Juno at http://www.juno.com
Or call Juno at (800) 654-JUNO [654-5866]
- -
------------------------------
Date: Mon, 9 Feb 1998 18:38:35
From: "L.D. Steele" <steele@lillonet.org>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Let Me Count the Ways.... (5/7)
Title: Let Me Count the Ways....
By: Dawn Steele
Email: steele@lillonet.org
Distribution: SunS web site, Anya's archive if she wants. All other's ask.
Spoilers: "Innocence", references to events in "Phases". AU after that.
Rating: Adult (BTVS type violence) to R (stronger violence than BTVS)
Feedback: I'd love some. :)
Disclaimer: They all belong to Joss. I'm making no profit beyond the
enjoyment of writing the characters. What doesn't belong to Joss
belongs to Mutant Enemy, Inc.
Let Me Count the Ways.... (5/7)
By: Dawn Steele (steele@lillonet.org)
The Rom had arrived the night before and set up their campers, their tents
and their campers. Suddenly there was a small flourishing colony on a field
whose owner was away for the week.
Jenny had found out they were coming only a couple of hours before they
arrived. Since then, she'd been greeted by long-lost relatives, eaten the
copious amounts of food thrust upon her and... become completly frustrated
by not being able to get a straight answer as to why they had come. The
whole camp had an air of an impromtu family reunion as those who had
settled down into different cities felt the urge to join their more mobile
cousins.
There wasn't a single person less than sixteen in the camp.
She had a good idea anyway as to the "who" if not the "why" behind their
unexpected visit. Sunnydale wasn't on any caravan route -- in fact, it was
normally given a wide berth. It was an area spoken of in whispers, and used
as a threat to the children when they misbehaved.
None of them wanted to be here. Not even her.
The list of reasons she listed every morning as to why she hadn't left were
growing more fragile every day. Her contract to teach at Sunnydale high was
one she put at the top; despite the fact that her teaching certificate was
forged, and it hadn't been signed under her real name. The apartment and
her belongings could be disgarded as easily as packing up a couple of
boxes. They were mementos of a person she had tried to be, not who she
truly was.
Then there was Angel -- or Angelus, as she tried to think of him. Angel --
her reason for originally being assigned to the area when she'd tried to
get away from the family's influence, was no more. The curse that had held
the demon in check for so long was gone, and as much as she tried, she
could find no way to cast it again.
The demon had killed too many of that clan, and the old chovihani who'd
cast the curse had died shortly afterwards. Nobody could tell her how the
chovihani had done it, nor did they seem to care. Unfortunately, this was a
fact that Giles wouldn't believe. Not when she couldn't get him to speak
more than two words to her. He was ignoring her with a persistence that
reminded her of the days they first met through the teacher's lounge. At
least then she had the knowledge it was her subject area that he disliked,
and not....
He had stood by Buffy and rejected her. In the end, she had known that it
would come to that. She might have laid claim to a part of his heart, but
Buffy had his soul.
What made it all so frustrating was how jovial everyone insisted on being.
Still, she'd managed to get into two arguments already with her cousin
Andros; it was just like old times. She didn't fit in anymore -- if she
ever had.
Yells brought her out of her reverie.
There was a commotion at the other side of the camp. Jenny jumped off the
picnic table where she'd been sitting and started heading over.
A tall dark form moved to block her way.
"Don't leave. It's still early."
He moved and light from one of the small campfires played against his
beautiful face.
"Angelus."
"I go by Angel these days." He smiled charmingly. "You have to move with
the times."
"What did you do?" Jenny was amazed at how calm her voice was. Just like
that time one of her students had come in dusted, and she'd had to try and
talk him out of slamming all the computer monitors against the wall. She
could handle it. She could... die.
"Nothing really. Just a present to keep them occupied while you and I have
a little... talk." One arm moved up, and he leaned against the camper. The
epitome of casual. "It was like old times. I'll be gone before they even
realize I'm still here."
"What do you want with me then?"
He shrugged. "The eternal question. What <does> a good looking vampire
who's already fed want?"
His face shifted; fire shimmered in his eyes.
"I don't <ever> want this body's soul coming back. It's <mine> now! No one
is going to take it from me again!"
Before Jenny could think of moving towards a weapon, he forced her against
the camper. The hand against her throat lifted her a foot off the ground.
The world narrowed to the awkward angle of her neck, and the brand of pain
around it.
Stars swam in front of her, and the moon shone full and bright. It was such
a beautiful night.
"You're going to die, and then Giles is going to die, and then everyone
else Buffy cares about." He was smiling. She couldn't see him, but she
could hear it in his voice. "It's just what I do for fun. <Everybody> has
to have a hobby."
The air thrummed, and Jenny found herself falling awkwardly to the ground.
Angelus had turned around and was trying to pull an arrow out of his back.
For a moment, Jenny flashed back to Giles pulling out the arrow she'd shot
him with and could have smiled.
Angelus had started to move away from her, when the next arrow was
released. Then a small volley of arrows. His back and legs were starting
to look like a pincussion. Some of them shone a shiny metallic blue, but
most had the look of custom made wooden shafts. Angelus was still
staggering awkwardly away.
Jenny scrambled to her feet, and ran over to her cousin, Andros. He held
another arrow ready to be realeased. "No!"
"Be quiet! He must die!"
Jenny felt arms around her, holding her back. A voice whispered into her
ear. "Mariam is dead; the demon killed her." It was Terry; Mariam's
brother.
Andros had released the arrow, and watched in satisfaction as it hit its
target.
"No," Jenny said. "We can capture him. Curse him again!" Buffy would never
forgive her if Angel died... Giles might not forgive her.
"That time is past. He must pay for killing us, and tonight he will."
Andros stepped closer, and gently touched her cheek. "I'm sorry, Janna. We
could not curse him again even if we wanted to. You know that, and you know
this is the way our vengence must end."
Angelus had fallen to the ground, and a large group of Rom had surrounded
him. None of the arrows had penetrated his heart, or he would be dead. They
weren't trying to drive one through the heart -- that would be too quick.
Jenny looked at Andros.
Janna looked at Andros.
She felt her heart tear in two. It was over, and she couldn't see a way to
mend it. She would never belong in Sunnydale again.
"It's over," said Andros.
"Yes. It's over." Janna stood up straight as Terry released her.
Old Dano had lit a wooden torch, and handed it to her. Giving Angel's
assigned watcher the priviledge of seeing to his end.
Janna walked towards the body on the ground. Angelus was on his stomach;
still trying to crawl away.
She dropped the torch on top of him.
They all watched him burn.
(end of version five)
- -
------------------------------
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