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Buffyfic-digest         Sunday, March 22 1998         Volume 02 : Number 070



In this issue:

       BUFFYFIC: "Footsteps" (7/?) by Ingrid
       BUFFYFIC: The Raven's Cry (2/?)
       BUFFYFIC: The Raven's Cry (3/?)
       BUFFYFIC: The Raven's Cry (5/?)
       BUFFYFIC: The Raven's Cry (4/?)

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, 22 Mar 1998 14:16:40 -0500
From: [e-mail] (Ingrid E Stanton)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Footsteps" (7/?) by Ingrid

Disclaimer: Willow, Spike, Drusilla, Angel(us) and Buffy
belong to Joss Whedon, The WB Network, Sandollar,
Mutant enemy and Kuzui. (You know what I mean! Just
don't sue me.)

Summary: A continuation of my Willow and Spike story.
This one takes place after some time has elapsed, as
usual.  Comments are wonderful to get- take some
time and write to me! BTW, If anyone wants previous
parts to this story, just write to me! I'll send them to
you gladly. ([e-mail])

Nobody is allowed to beat me up because I haven't
written for a while! Major ac-dec competition all day
yesterday, and I'm talking 9 straight hours of solid
test-taking! Eww....

WARNING: There's one bad word in here... The "a-word."
Don't yell at me! You've been warned!

**********************
"Footsteps" by Ingrid
Part Seven
**********************

Willow ripped open the door and felt the cool night air
rush towards her.

The wind struck her hard, but it was not unwelcome.
Her claustrophobia had been quick to set in, especially
with the oppressive realization weighing her down. She
felt Spike close behind her as they cautiously stole
across the large open field. The landscape swelled and
buckled, and they sped over it, seriousness removing
all other considerations.

She wanted nothing more than to return to the warehouse.
The airy hall was where she felt the safest these days.
It was her vampiric womb, and held a mystical power of
infinite reassurance.

They were coming. The knowledge became more and
more real as she walked the way a sound becomes louder.
They were closer.

Closer still, as if they were sharks closing in upon her
ordered world. Sharks of the past, out for blood.

She couldnÆt seem to run fast enough, yet Spike was
struggling to keep up with her. A dark terror seized her
heart; pounced upon her, as if just seeing them might
freeze time.

They were here, she thought, seconds before a tall male
plowed into her, apparently in the midst of some sort
of race.

One shoulder knocked her down, and he nearly crushed
her with his weight.

It was Angelus, she knew, without looking up, and she
froze. Irrational fear had her shaking. She finally leveled
her eyes with him like a deer staring into the headlights
of a speeding car.

What she saw threw her for a loop. He looked gaunt and
tired. The evil pleasure in his eyes had flown, and only
raw terror and survival instincts remained.

She waited to meet his eyes, but he picked himself up
and sped off as if heÆd tripped on a rock or some other
inanimate object. Spike looked stunned behind her, his
eyes wide in amazement as he watched the vampireÆs
retreating back. Moments later, he grabbed Willow
around the waist. Before she had time to protest, he
dragged her into a bush near the high school.

Willow tried to speak, but he silenced her and gestured
with his eyes towards the spot where theyÆd been standing.
The slayer had just rushed into the clearing, breathing
heavily. Her figure brought back a plethora of ingrained
memories, but something was very wrong.

Buffy wore simple, almost rustic looking clothes. A plain
white shirt and dark pants that were frayed at the bottom
hung upon her as if she were merely a sack of bones. Her
eyes were tired, but what determination!

Buffy was businesslike, certainly, but she almost looked
bored.

"Get your sorry ass out here, Angelus," she threatened in
a husky voice.

Silence followed, and Willow gulped. The slayer was not
big on patience, apparently, even less so than usual. She
took off in the direction Angelus had gone, and it was only
when the slayer was a good 30 feet away, and heading
further from them that Spike released his grip on her.

"WeÆve got to get back to the warehouse," Willow urged,
not sure why the words were coming from her now.

"But, why? Let the slayer work out her own problems with
Angel. We donÆt have a quarrel with her."

"We need...you need to find out," she whispered nervously,
"what happened to Drusilla."

 ***
END, PART SEVEN

_____________________________________________________________________
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------------------------------

Date: Sun, 22 Mar 1998 12:27:05 +0000
From: "Jennifer Addis-Newton" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Raven's Cry (2/?)

Disclaimer: This story is a cross-over between a superheroic
role-playing campaign and the television show "Buffy the Vampire
Slayer."  All characters related to "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" are the
creations of Joss Whedon et al. It is also entirely possible for
additional well-known characters or ideas to appear in passing.  I
take no credit for these ideas, merely for reworking them so that they
fit into the campaign world.  Caitlin O'Riordan, however, is entirely
my own creation.

Feedback: Please!  This is my first fanfic of any kind.  If
there's any way to make the characters more true to themselves, I'm
all for it.

Spoilers: None of which I am aware.  My universe diverges from Joss'
with "Passion" -- it didn't happen.

Rating:  Some adult situations and language -- I'd give the whole
thing a solid PG-13.

***********************************************
Part One:

     It had seemed like a good idea at the time - hit the Bronze and
find a young girl desperate for attention.  A few soulful glances and
a kind word would persuade her to go outside, into the alley, for
more desperate groping.  She was harder to find than he had expected.
She had to be awkward, someone who would die for his kisses.  It was
the easiest way to feed.
     Angel smiled grimly as he scanned the crowd. *If only I could
find Willow.*  Not exactly the original plan, but it would work well
enough to catch the Slayer off-guard.  He wanted to do something to
ruin Buffy's day.
     At that moment, he saw his next victim. Sitting in a corner,
hunched over her drink - sipping it intently while she read the book
in front of her.  Her hair was dark, her face was pale - not exactly
ugly, but awkward enough to suit his purposes. Engrossed in her book,
she did not notice him slide in the chair across from her.  He placed
one casual hand on the book and smiled ingratiatingly at the girl.
     "Mind if I join you?"
     The girl frowned, her slate blue eyes going hard as stones.
"I'm waiting for someone."
     Angel knew she was lying, could see it in the way that her eyes
darted from his face and to the door.  She was nervous.  Probably the
most attention she's received in her life.  He smiled at the thought,
his eyes growing warm.  "I could keep you company while you wait."
     To his amazement, the girl suddenly smiled.  "No need.  There
she is."  She nodded her head in the direction of the door.
     Angel turned in his chair.  And there she was - the Slayer.  *No
longer wearing my jacket, I see.*  Followed closely by her partners
in crime, so to speak: Willow and Xander.  The trio headed in their
direction.  Buffy's eyes swept the room, as though she was sizing up
every object as a possible weapon.  Luckily, she had not seen him.
     "So, you're a friend of Buffy's?"  Angel turned back towards the
girl.  She was gone - and the book had gone with her.  Best to do the
same before Buffy noticed him - he needed to feed and regain his
strength before facing her again. He rose to leave, his preternatural
eyes noticing a piece of paper on the table.
     He picked it up and scanned the contents. OUTSIDE.  THE ALLEY.
It sounded like more like a challenge than an invitation. Angel
chuckled.  "I won't keep you waiting long."

     Willow looked thoughtfully at Buffy while she placed her jacket
over the back of her chair.  "What were those things?"
     "I don't know."  The Slayer looked confused.  Vampires she could
deal with - but little stick figures?  Hundreds of them had attacked
her and Willow on their way to the Bronze.  One minute, they were
walking down a perfectly still street.  The next minute, sticks
started raining on them from the sky.  Animated sticks.  It made no
sense.
     Xander grinned at his friends.  "Couldn't you just find a
picture in the Slayer handbook?"
     "If there is one," replied Buffy, "it probably doesn't come with
pictures."
     "Maybe I'll do some research tonight and see what I can dig up,"
said Willow.  She remembered the way those legs had felt crawling
over her arms and through her hair.  Buffy's presence in her life had
exposed Willow to all sorts of unusual creatures - the walking twigs
were probably low on the Sunnydale scale of weirdness.  Still, she
had to know what they were.
     "You should ask Giles."  Xander sipped his drink cautiously.
     "Sure."  Buffy rolled her eyes.  "It's probably in his Watcher's
handbook."
     "Sticks, lots of them," added Xander, doing a passable imitation
of the librarian's British accent.  "You can kill them, Buffy, but
you have to set each one on fire individually while chanting the
appropriate incantation."  He placed his hands up in the air.  "Oh,
little twig, be cast back into the pit of hell from which you
spawned."
     Willow started to laugh at Xander in spite of herself. Ever
since she discovered his secret romance with Cordelia Chase, she had
been going out of her way to ignore his jokes.  Now that she had Oz,
she knew that a relationship with Xander was the last thing she
wanted but.  It was the principle of the thing.  He still needed to
suffer a little more.
     "Yep, that's what the watcher's handbook would tell him."
Xander's eyes widened suddenly, and his voice trailed off as he began
to watch someone cross the dance floor.
     Buffy turned in her chair to follow the movement.  Her senses
were heightened by a familiar feeling:  vampire. * Just what I need
- -- some serious slayage to take my mind off those sticks.*
"Um," added Willow, recognizing the all-too-familiar figure in the
crowd.  "Maybe you should take a raincheck."
     Angel.  Buffy would know the way he moved anywhere.  How many
nights had she sat in the same chair, watching him walk across the
floor towards her.  She blinked - the pain was still intense, but it
was getting easier to control.  He had underestimated her - they all
had, really.  The pain made her strong, gave her an edge.  No more
Miss Nice Slayer.
     The vampire did not even glance in their direction.  He looked
as though he was in a hurry to get where he was going.  Buffy turned
to her friends.  "Stay here."
     Willow opened her mouth to protest but Xander shook his head,
flashing a warning in his dark eyes.  Willow closed her mouth, folded
her arms in front of herself, and slumped back down in her chair.
With a wary glance towards the door, Buffy slung her jacket back onto
her shoulders and began to follow the vampire across the dance floor.
*Tonight, it ends.*

     It was amazingly easy to find her.  She was standing at the far
end of the alley.  She propped her hands above her on the edge of the
fire escape.  The moon hit her dark hair, still lank, and accentuated
the white planes of her face.  *How pathetic* Angel thought to
himself.  She was definitely making a show out of her casual
attitude.
     "I thought you said you were waiting for Buffy."  He moved to
stand next to the girl, closing his hand over her shoulder.  He had
to give her credit - not one flinch.
     The girl shrugged her shoulders. "I had to make certain that you
were who I thought you were."
     "Really."  Her response had intrigued Angel.  "How do you know
me?"
     "Angelus, your exploits are legendary."  She laughed.  "A new
town, a new leather jacket - but it's still you.  You can't disguise
that brooding stare."
     He looked into her eyes.  She was not, he knew, a vampire - yet
there was controlled power here, waiting to be unleashed.  The cold
look in her eyes, the smile on her face.  She looked more like Dru
than any human Angel had ever seen.  He had to know more.  "What do
you want?"
     "There's strength here," she responded.  "I imagine it's the
Hellmouth."  She giggled, and blinked once as she focused her eyes on
the moon.  "And I hear you run in circles that I might like to join."
     *Another wanna-be* Angel thought to himself disgustedly.  He
could see it now - the pale skin, the dark hair, the black clothes.
How she had tracked him down, he had no idea, but here she was - and
she had chosen him for her sire.  He knew he should refuse, but the
gleam of moonlight as she turned her face to the moon was impossible
to resist.  He felt the blood lust take him as he opened his mouth
and leaned forward.
     "Not so fast," came a voice from behind him.

     *Not so fast!  What kind of Slayer-speak is that?*  Buffy
blinked and immediately moved into a fighting stance, hands in front
of her, as she watched Angel jump back from the girl and whirl to
face her.  He had already changed.
     "Buffy," was Angel's reply.  "Have you come to dance?"  He
stepped forward, the girl almost forgotten.  He would kill the Slayer
and then come back for seconds.
     "I don't dance with you anymore, remember?" she promptly
answered, eyeing him up and down.  "I came to kick your ass." *Much
better* she added silently to herself.
     Angel's dark eyes widened.  "I am going to love killing you,"
the vampire drawled.  He lunged forward suddenly, rocking into
Buffy's left shoulder.
     It was a blow which would have knocked the average person onto
their back - but the Slayer was not the average person.  Buffy
twisted with the blow and whirled to give the vampire a quick kick
with her right foot.  "Bullseye," she laughed as her foot connected
with the back of Angel's pants and pushed him to the ground.
     Angel landed with greater force than he would have expected, his
knees slamming onto the pavement in front of him.  *That hurt.*  She
was mad - brute force would not overcome her.  Better to go with plan
B.  He waited a few moments to get his beast under control, feeling
the skin on his face alter, and remained kneeling before the Slayer.
A few seconds more.
     "What's the matter," added Buffy, "I thought you liked dancing."
     Angel finally spoke.  "Buffy."  He shifted his body slowly.  The
look he gave her would have melted glass.  "I'm sorry."
     It was the last thing that she would have expected - the sudden
change of heart.  Kneeling before her was not Angelus the vampire but
Angel.just, Angel.  She took a tentative step forward, feeling her
heart twist inside her when she heard the words that she had imagined
he would say so many times.  "Angel."  Her voice had lost its former
bravado.
     Almost.  The Slayer leaned towards him, all signs of fighting
gone from her eyes.  She was easy to manipulate when you knew the
right buttons to push - and he knew them all.  For some reason, he
tried to remember the time when he could have spent hours merely
listening to her breathe his name and gaze at him with her brilliant
eyes.  Those feelings were over.  He reached his arms up towards her.
"Save me from myself, Buffy."
     Her eyes widened again.  She leaned forward to help him stand
and felt his arms go around her.  How long had she waited for this?
Buffy reached a tentative hand down to caress his cheek.  It was then
that Angel struck, slamming a fist into her stomach and whipping
behind her - suddenly holding her head away from her neck by grabbing
a handful of hair.  "Angel," she breathed again.  How easy would it
be to stop fighting now?  Had to think of a way out.
     "Pitifully easy," he whispered, feeling the beast overcome him
once more.  He pulled harder on Buffy's hair, looking at the throb of
her vein in the moonlight.  "I almost hate to have it end this way,
Buffy."
     "That makes two of us, dead boy," came another voice from
the end of the alley.  Angel forced himself to focus his attention,
knowing that the slightest wrong move on his part would give Buffy
the upper hand.  It was Xander, holding Buffy's crossbow.  By the
expression on his face, he knew that Xander was willing to use it.
Willow was trailing close behind, taking in the situation quickly.
     Angel grimaced.  "Even if you were man enough to do it, Xander,
there's still one problem."  He tightened his grip on Buffy's hair.
"Can you kill me before I kill her."  Angel's words stopped Xander in
his tracks.  "And can you kill her once she turns?"
     "Do it, Xander," Buffy hissed.  "Kill us both."  *Better to take
the bastard down with me.*
     "I can't."  The pained expression on Xander's face was priceless
as he lowered the crossbow.
     Angel smiled.  "Pity."  His mouth opened as he leaned forward
for the kill.
     A shock of lightning flashed at the back of the alley.  It was
not much, but it served to distract Angel long enough for Buffy to
wrest herself from his grasp.  She fell forward to the ground,
landing roughly on her knees in an unconscious imitation of Angel,
and tried to roll out of the vampire's way.  He dived for her.  She
pulled away and kicked forward with her foot.
     "Now, Xander!"  The Slayer cried.
     From the back of the alley, footsteps made their way towards the
struggle.  A figure was quickly approaching the fight, a figure
holding a staff in its hand, and it looked like no one Xander had
ever seen.  She was wearing thigh-high black leather boots and a
black outfit he would have sworn was copied from the costumes from
Sailor Moon, a Japanese superhero cartoon - a modified sailor suit,
complete with a cobweb bow.  As she came closer, Xander saw that the
staff was actually a long-handled broom.  Her blonde hair was pulled
back into a thick, waist-length braid - tied at the end with another
cobweb bow.
     The vision spoke.  "I think this has gone on long enough."  Even
the voice was beautiful.
     "What the - " began Angel, all but ignoring the Slayer kneeling
before him.
     The vision blinked ingenuously, her blue eyes bright in the dim
light of the alley.  "Hermes translocation!"  The figure cried,
pointing its broom at the bewildered vampire.
     Angel shimmered suddenly and disappeared - the only remnant of
his passing was the sound of air rushing in to fill the space he had
once occupied.  Buffy rose to her feet and whirled at the girl
standing before them.  "Did you kill him?"
     "No.  I need him alive."  She walked towards the trio.  A pained
expression crossed her face.  "Bad choice of phrase," she added
softly.
     "Who are you?" Willow asked softly.
     "Sunnydale's newest visitor," the figure replied.  She stood in
front of Buffy, looking her up and down with her blue eyes.  "And you
would be the Slayer."  Buffy's eyes widened at the statement.
"Almost the Slayee," the figure continued.  "Here's some advice: stay
out of my way."  She shimmered, leaving the area with another small
pop of air.
*************************************
(Part One continued in next installment)
**************************************************
Jennifer Addis-Newton AKA Branwen ferch Modron

[e-mail]
http://www.pipeline.com/~whiteraven

"For if that which you seek, you find not within
 yourself, you will never find it without."
     - from "The Charge of the Goddess"

- -

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

Date: Sun, 22 Mar 1998 12:27:05 +0000
From: "Jennifer Addis-Newton" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Raven's Cry (3/?)

Disclaimer: This story is a cross-over between a superheroic
role-playing campaign and the television show "Buffy the Vampire
Slayer."  All characters related to "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" are the
creations of Joss Whedon et al. It is also entirely possible for
additional well-known characters or ideas to appear in passing.  I
take no credit for these ideas, merely for reworking them so that they
fit into the campaign world.  Caitlin O'Riordan, however, is entirely
my own creation.

Feedback: Please!  This is my first fanfic of any kind.  If
there's any way to make the characters more true to themselves, I'm
all for it.

Spoilers: None of which I am aware.  My universe diverges from Joss'
with "Passion" -- it didn't happen.

Rating:  Some adult situations and language -- I'd give the whole
thing a solid PG-13.
****************************************
Part One: Cont'd

     It was a disconcerting feeling.  Angel felt as though his entire
body had been pulled apart and smashed back together -- with a few
pieces missing.  He lurched forward and fell into one of the stacks
of crates before him.  He knew instinctively that he was in the
abandoned warehouse where the vampires had set up new headquarters in
anticipation of Dru's newest "game."
     "There y' are, mate!"  Spike slammed into his leg with the wheel
of his chair. Angel fought to keep from lurching forward again into
the crates.  He was not successful. "Good to have you back on your
feet."  Spike laughed and helped Angel to his feet.  "Sorry about
that."
     "No you're not," Angel replied automatically.  Ever since he had
returned, things had gotten a little, well, hostile between himself
and Spike.  It was over Drucilla - Angel was her sire, but Spike was
the lover who had remained with her throughout the years.  She
appeared to love them both.
     "I just can't control meself, mate," Spike continued.  "Dru did
it."
     Angel groaned inwardly.  "What did she get this time?  Trolls?"
     "The big time," replied Spike.
     Angel shrugged his shoulders.  Dru's latest plan in ridding
Sunnydale of the human infestation was more far-fetched than usual.
Since demons were unable to do the job, Dru decided that it was time
to call upon a new group of otherworldly creatures: the faery.  So
far, she had conjured every variant that he could have imagined - and
several he had not.  Except for two or three giants, the denizens of
faery who had walked through Dru's gateway did not appear to be much
help in the "ridding the world of humans" department.
     He swatted a pixie out of the way as he followed Spike into the
main room of the warehouse.  Dru was sitting in the midst of her
faery entourage, giggling madly as they whirled around her.  Sitting
beside Dru, outside the circle of faeries, was another woman.  She
was tall - taller than any woman Angel had ever seen, wearing a cloak
of raven feathers that matched the sweep of her hair.  Her eyes
burned with a dark fire, and she smiled grimly at Angel.  Her mouth
was a splash of blood in her white face.
     "Angel," Dru giggled.  "Have you met my friend?"  She gestured
towards the woman and then looked towards Angel.  "I did it, Angel."
     "Did what, Dru?" He asked softly.
     "I found an old one," she replied.  "An old faery."  The mad
vampire giggled again.  "I found the Morrigan."
     Angel recognized the name.  His people had spoken about her, in
hushed tones, passing down the stories of the old ones.  She had been
called a goddess of death, the carrion crow who stalked battlefields
in search of the slain.  He looked at the woman, a smile spreading on
his features.  *This could get interesting.*
     The faery returned the smile.  "I've been expected."
*************************************
Intermission One:

Mairrighana remembers..

     The sun, the sun so bright, like Dulloran's hair.  The flowers,
his blue eyes as he handed her the flowers.  Did she see them?
Giggling in the bushes, waiting for Dulloran to give her flowers.
Small bright suns in their hands, red blood in Dulloran's hair.
     The scream of the iron, cutting.  Pain.  Where is Dulloran?
Where are the pretty flowers?  Hard rope, biting rope.  Rocky ground.
Where is Dulloran?  Humans.  Too many humans.  They have Dulloran's
sword.  His hair, so bright, like the sun.  Where is Dulloran?
     Must escape.  More iron, all around me.  Must find Dulloran.  A
cart, a village.  More humans.  Small humans.  A tree, more iron.
Humans watching, throwing rocks.  Tall human with Dulloran's sword.
Laughing.  A sun in his hand.  Sun thrown at my feet. Dulloran's eyes
in the sun, washed with blood.
     Take her down.  Make magic babies.  No!  Dulloran's eyes.
Laughing.  Humans laughing.  Rough hands.  Bite. No!  Do not do this!
 Do not make me!  Please stop.  Dulloran's sword dropped.  Struggle.
Kick.  Bite.  Do anything.  Get Dulloran's sword.
     A raven's cry.  Black wings.  Dulloran's sword.  Humans want
magic?  Dulloran's sword in my hand, liquid fire.  Humans scream.
Must kill humans.
     Kill all humans.
     No humans left.
     For Dulloran.
**************************************
Part Two:
     Giles took his glasses off of his face, rubbing them
absentmindedly on his handkerchief.  He had spent the last few hours
looking for as much information as he could regarding Sunnydale's
latest visitor but his prophecies mentioned nothing about her
possible identity.  *Perhaps Jenny* he caught himself thinking
before firmly shaking his head.
     Giles had been shocked when Buffy had explained her unnerving
encounter with Angel the evening before - and the mysterious young
woman who had come to their aid.  *Why save Buffy's life only to
threaten her.*  It was one thing for the young woman to save Buffy's
life; it was quite another for the young woman to spare Angel simply
because "she had need of him."
     "And this spell she incanted?"  He asked softly.
     "Hermes translocation," replied Buffy.  "What does it mean?"
     "Hermes was the messenger of the gods in Greek mythology.  He
was generally depicted with winged shoes -"
     "Like the guy in that florist commercial!" Xander interrupted
quickly.
     Giles rolled his eyes.  "Quite."
     "Hermes translocation," repeated Buffy thoughtfully.  It
reminded her of the incantations that Amy had used on Valentine's
Day.  "Do you suppose she could be a witch?"
     "The broom didn't give that away?"  It was Xander's turn to roll
his eyes.  "Come on, Buff - the Slayer should have figured that one
out without the handbook."  He looked as though he was going to
continue with his conversation, but the librarian's curt cough and
the stern glance of his eye made Xander think better of continuing in
the same vein.
     "It wouldn't be the first time that a witch joined forces with a
vampire," mused Giles.
     "I don't think she's really a witch."  Willow had stopped typing
on her keyboard and peeked her head out from behind the computer in
the library.  "I mean, she wants everyone to think that she's a
witch, but she's not one."
     "What did you find?"  Giles was halfway across the library
before he had even finished asking the question. Buffy and Xander
followed closely on Giles' heels.  The trio crowded around Willow's
chair and peered at the computer screen.  Willow had already printed
several photographs and began handing them to the rest of the group.
The screen itself was brandished with the logo for The Rocky Mountain
News, and Willow appeared to be cataloguing several articles from the
site.
     "There she is!  Sailor Moon meets the Addams family!"  Xander
handed his picture to Giles.
     The librarian stared at it intently.  The scene in the picture
was similar to many he had seen in comic books as a child.  Two
groups of figures in brightly colored suits were battling, presumably
for justice to prevail.  In the midst of the fight, a young woman
with blonde hair and a broomstick was standing with a ball of fire
poised in her hand.  He handed the picture back to Xander.  "Are you
absolutely certain?"
     "That's her," Buffy replied.  "Who is she?"
     "She's a superhero," said Willow.
     "Surely you're joking?"  Giles closed his eyes, half hoping that
the conversation would not take the inevitable path that it seemed to
be following.  "Minor occult figures are one thing but a superhero?"
Humans with "super" powers had become more prevalent in the world
during the last twenty-five years or so - several theories postulated
that it might be the effects of chemicals or radiation.  He had
enough to deal with as it was with the Hellmouth. Willow shook her
head.
     "Yep.  She's actually kind of cool.  I mean, for a vampire
savior."  She took a deep breath.  "Her name is Nightshade.  She's
part of a superhero group that is based in Denver.  She infiltrated a
high school where a supervillian was recruiting teenagers with
superpowers to use for his evil ends.  Only he didn't know that she
was working for the good guys, which she was."
     "I am getting too old for this."  Giles sighed.  It sounds worse
than one of those pulp novels.
     "Cool," yelped Xander.  He pointed towards a man standing next
to Nightshade.  "Is that a lightsaber?"
     Willow nodded.  "His name is Jedite.  He's a Jedi Knight."
     "That's original."  Giles smiled weakly.
     Buffy leaned closer to take a better look at the picture.  "So
that's my new enemy?  She doesn't look all that powerful."
     "That's what bothers me.  She shouldn't be an enemy."  Willow
pointed to one of the articles on the screen ahead of her.  "I've
gone through lots of articles about the group and never once does
anyone have something really bad to say about her.  Sure, there's
some problems that she has with Eric Dermann -"
     "Who's Eric Dermann?" asked Giles quickly.  He latched onto the
first item in Willow's explanation that he could, fearing that she
might continue indefinitely if no one stopped her.  "That name sounds
familiar.  I seem to remember some documents about a family in
Germany named Dermann.  They were rumoured to have a strong psychic
gift."
     "Oh," replied Willow.  "He's the dashing millionaire playboy in
the group.  I'm not certain what he really does but his family does
come from Germany.."  She pointed towards a young man wearing a
double-breasted suit in a picture depicting the superhero team at a
press conference.
     "He is dashing," added Buffy. "Every superhero team needs a
dashing playboy," was Giles' resigned reply.
     Xander nodded.  "Let me guess.  He dresses up in a rubber suit
to avenge the murder of his parents?"
     Willow merely raised an eyebrow and continued with her original
explanation.  "Well, she has problems with this Eric Dermann because
he's always hitting on her and Dryad - that's the girl who looks like
a tree - so the two of them cooked up some practical jokes to keep
him in line.  Anyway, he doesn't seem to have very good things to say
about either of them lately and he's even gotten into public fights
with the other members of the group."
     "And this fits in how?"  Buffy asked, turning to gaze at Willow
quizzically.
     "Well, she's supposed to be a good person but what if she got
fed up with being in Denver and decided to move."  Willow's brow
wrinkled as she considered the thought.
     Giles continued with Willow's explanation.  "Killing vampires
would make a name for one's self, if one did it openly."
     "But how did she know I was the Slayer?"  Buffy turned to Giles
quickly.
     Giles shrugged his shoulders.  "Calling it a lucky guess would
most likely be premature."
     "So all we need to do is keep an eye out for someone with a
broom."  Xander spoke matter-of-factly.  "I think we can handle
that."
     "Xander, I want you to help Willow find out as much as you can
about this Nightshade."  Giles walked away from the computer and back
towards the stacks near his private office.  "I am going to try to
find any references in the prophecies which might clarify the
situation."
     "I'm going to see if I can find her myself," Buffy stated.  The
tone in her voice made it clear that she would win any argument
before it even started.
     Giles sighed.  "I was hoping to give the Slayer a night off, in
light of last evening's excitement."
     "Sunnydale is safe from vampires and mystery guests whenever I'm
around," replied Buffy in a fair imitation of the voice actress who
played the character `Serena' from Sailor Moon.  "In the name of the
Watcher, I will protect the innocent and triumph over the undead."
*And that means Angel* she added silently.  The smile on her face
hid any feelings she might have had on that regard; no one stopped
her as she quietly left the library.
********************************************
Intermission Two will begin the next installment.
**************************************************
Jennifer Addis-Newton AKA Branwen ferch Modron

[e-mail]
http://www.pipeline.com/~whiteraven

"For if that which you seek, you find not within
 yourself, you will never find it without."
     - from "The Charge of the Goddess"

- -

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

Date: Sun, 22 Mar 1998 12:27:06 +0000
From: "Jennifer Addis-Newton" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Raven's Cry (5/?)

Disclaimer: This story is a cross-over between a superheroic
role-playing campaign and the television show "Buffy the Vampire
Slayer."  All characters related to "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" are the
creations of Joss Whedon et al. It is also entirely possible for
additional well-known characters or ideas to appear in passing.  I
take no credit for these ideas, merely for reworking them so that they
fit into the campaign world.  Caitlin O'Riordan, however, is entirely
my own creation.

Feedback: Please!  This is my first fanfic of any kind.  If
there's any way to make the characters more true to themselves,    I'm
all for it.

Spoilers: None of which I am aware.  My universe diverges from Joss'
with "Passion" -- it didn't happen.

Rating:  Some adult situations and language -- I'd give the whole
thing a solid PG-13.
*************************************
Intermission Three:

Date sent:   March 17, 1998  2:30 AM PST
To:             [e-mail]
From:         [e-mail]
Subject:      The bird has flown

Archie,

Let Alex know that his suspicions were confirmed.  A rare type of bird
was sighted  in Sunnydale.

Please research any related appearances in the Sunnydale area over the
last few months and reply in care of [e-mail].

Yours in the Audobon Society,
Shade
********************************
Part Four:
     Jenny Calendar resolutely took a deep breath and placed her hand
on the library door.  It was difficult enough knowing that she was
responsible for the Angel's change, far worse to remember that she had
betrayed them all by never speaking the truth regarding her past until
it was too late.  But she knew something far more dangerous than usual
was happening when she scanned her e-mail that morning and noticed
that she had received an attached document from "Archie."
     No one really knew Archie's identity but he was one of the
forerunners of the technopagan movement.  He had been "connected" far
earlier than most within Jenny's online circle, and his knowledge
demonstrated a vast depth of experience that few technopagans would
ever attain.  If something was going on around the world, Archie
would know who was involved and how it would affect the rest of them.
It was uncanny - his help was never given lightly, nor were his
"requests" ignored.
     So, here she was, with her right hand on the door to the library
and a document from one of the leading techno-occult figures in her
left hand.and all she could think about was the fact that she might
never see Rupert smile at her again.  Funny how the mind worked.
Jenny smiled wanly and opened the door.
     Giles was hard at work.  He looked as though he had stayed in
the library all evening.  Books and papers were piled around him, and
the hum of the computer was unmistakable.  Jenny could hear fingers
moving on the keyboard.  *Willow.*  Hopefully, the document she had
been sent would help to enlighten them all on the situation.
     "Rupert," she said softly.  Jenny had tried speaking to him
once, on Valentine's Day, with somewhat disastrous results.  The
computer teacher looked around quickly for Xander - another person
she had been studiously attempting to avoid, and not just because of
his friendship with Buffy.  A love spell had made the teenager
irresistible to women, and Jenny had also succumbed to his magical
charm.
     Giles looked up from his book, rubbed his eyes tiredly, and
said, "I'm not certain this is the time for our."  His voice trailed
off uncertainly.
     "This is business, Rupert."  Jenny handed him the document she
had printed.  It detailed every strange occurrence that had happened
in Sunnydale over the last several weeks - beginning with the love
spell that had worked entirely too well.  "I was sent this by
Archie."
     A snore erupted from across the room.  Jenny saw Xander sleeping
on a couch.  Giles ignored the noise and began to peruse the
document.  He motioned for the computer teacher to sit down at the
table.  She looked down and picked up the nearest piece of paper; it
was a picture of someone she recognized, more by reputation than
regard.  "Is Nightshade involved in this?"
     The librarian looked up from the document.  "What do you know
about her?"
     "She's a superhero who thinks she's a witch," replied Jenny.
"Apart from that, she's never been connected to real occult circles."
     "Although I have quite a following with male technopagans.
I've seen the screensaver," returned a soft voice from across the
room.
     Jenny turned in her seat to see two figures standing in the
doorway.  Buffy she recognized; like everyone else, the Slayer
appeared to have stayed up all evening.  The other was a teenager who
looked to be of similar age as the others in the room.  The
newcomer's blonde hair had been pulled into a long braid, and she was
dressed casually in jeans and a black tee-shirt.
     Jenny narrowed her eyes.  *Put her in a witch's costume  and
give her a broom.*
     "What are you doing here?" "Nightshade is with me."  Buffy's
voice was cold.  "What are you doing here?"
     "Jenny is here because Archie asked her to be," Nightshade
replied.  She crossed the room and reached the table, glancing at the
papers which had been strewn across it.  "Or, more to the point.
She's here because I asked Archie to send her some research."  She
smiled at the computer teacher.  "Looks like I'm connected to real
occult figures after all."
     "I don't want her here."  Buffy's voice was soft, and she
crossed her arms dangerously.
     "Buffy, I'm -" Jenny began.  She always tried to apologize.
     Buffy raised her hand for silence.  "Giles has what he needs.
Now leave."
     "I'm sor -" Jenny tried again.
     "I don't want to hear it," the Slayer replied.
     "Maybe you should leave, Ms. Calendar."  Willow had come out
from behind the computer, a concerned expression on her face.  She
tried to smile wanly at the computer teacher - whose anguish was
obvious to every eye in the room.
     Save for one.  Buffy had turned her back on the computer
teacher.   Jenny stood to leave, an apologetic glance in Giles'
direction.  He glanced as apologetically back.  The sound of Xander's
snoring filled the room.
     Nightshade glanced at Buffy, and back to the computer teacher.
Jenny  began to walk towards the door. "Wait," said Nightshade.  "If
she can help, she should stay."
     Buffy whirled on the superhero.  "We don't need her kind of
help."
     "You're fighting more than vampires, Buffy," Nightshade replied.
 There was a stubborn look in her blue eyes.  "We're going to need
something a little bit more powerful than the Slayer."
     "Who are we fighting?" Willow asked softly.
     Buffy shrugged her shoulders.  "She called herself the
Morrigan."
     "What?"  Jenny started at the word.
     "Did you say Morrigan?" Giles asked quickly.
     Buffy nodded.  "Angel's latest fling.  Hangs around with a raven
and a really big sword."
     "That is not precisely what I wished to hear," replied Giles.
He frowned suddenly and looked at the superhero.  "Can you add
anything more?"
     Nightshade sighed.  "She truly believes she is the Morrigan.
When I attempted to use one of my spells against her, she was
offended by the fact that I `dared' to call upon her own province of
power."  She turned to look at the window, her eyes going wide.
     Giles looked at Jenny.  "Can your friends help?"
     "Archie is the best contact any technopagan could have," Jenny
replied.  "He sent you all the information he could find."
     "What's the big deal about Miss Raven Lover, anyway?"  Buffy
followed Nightshade's movement across the library.  The superhero
tugged at the latch on the window.
     "She was an Irish goddess," Jenny said.  "The goddess of death
and battle."
     "The Irish gods were beings known as the Tuatha de Danaan,"
added Rupert.  "The Children of the Goddess Dana, roughly translated.
 They were once inhabitants of Ireland, according to the legends.
They were all powerful magic-users."
     "She's powerful."  Buffy's replied with a flat tone of voice.
She remembered the way that the Morrigan had restrained every person
in the Bronze the evening before.
     "I don't know what bothers me more," Xander's voice said from
the couch.  "The fact that I can't even sleep through these
conversations anymore or the fact that we're fighting a
death-slinging goddess."  He covered his eyes as Nightshade opened
the window.  "Sleep, definitely."
     "If it's any consolation," Nightshade replied, "You're
technically not fighting a death-slinging goddess."  She peered out
the window.  "I am.  In three days."
     "But a goddess."  Willow's voice trailed off.  "Maybe if you
call in enough of your friends, we could combine forces and."
     "I think it's probably best if I leave my friends out of it, for
the moment.  A villain in a mechsuit is one thing; this takes a bit
more of an open mind and I'm not certain that they're ready for that
yet - even Jedite, and he's the most mystical of the bunch."
Nightshade smiled at the hacker.  "Besides, the Morrigan was never a
goddess.  Only a faery.  Even she would not have presumed to call
herself deity."
     "Since when did you ever hear of a death-slinging pixie?"
retorted Xander.  "Besides, faeries don't exist."
     A small figure, approximately six inches high, flitted in the
window.  It hovered, made a chirping sound, and flew into the
library.  Its movement was a blur.  Nightshade spoke in a soft voice,
and the figure moved to hover near her.  She held out her hand and a
small pixie landed there, one wing missing.  The superhero did not
say a word - the expression in her eyes was enough.
     "That's a - "  Xander pointed.
     "Whoa."  Willow added.
     "We live in a world where a man can wear his underwear on top of
his pants and shoot lasers out of his eyes without anyone even
blinking.  Why is it so impossible to believe in faeries?"
Nightshade shook her head and turned her attention to the pixie in
her hand.  It was speaking to her in a high-pitched voice.  The
superhero nodded and whispered something to the pixie.  Before their
eyes, its wing began to heal and the creature flew back out the
window.
     Giles looked at the superhero.  "Was that a."
     "A pixie.  Perhaps one of the more common species of faery," the
superhero replied.  "Brought through to this world, I suspect, by a
gateway created for such a purpose."
     "Drucilla."  Buffy rolled her eyes.  "This sounds like something
she would do."
     "I heard rumors to that effect," replied Nightshade.  "Archie
had correlated the different faery sightings and determined a general
area from the pattern.  Then he overlaid the pattern of faery
sightings with that of recent vampire sightings."
     Jenny inclined her head towards the document Giles was holding
firmly in his hands.  "He calculated the frequency of the sightings
to determine a radius and possible starting point for both."
     "Exactly," added Giles, looking at the document.  "Ingenious,
actually."
     "You might want to refrain from letting how know that."  The
superhero smiled brightly.  "He's impossible to deal with as it is."
     Buffy smiled back, still wondering how the superhero had managed
to put all of them at ease despite their initial contact.  "So, where
do you fit in?"
     "I came to investigate the gate.  I was hoping that it had
opened spontaneously but I couldn't ignore the vampire connection
based on Archie's calculations."  The superhero closed the window and
latched it firmly.  "I decided to make contact with one of the
vampires."
     "Angel," Buffy stated.
     Nightshade shrugged her shoulders.  "He loves to be the center
of attention.  He's the easiest one to find."
     "Not the Angel I knew."  Buffy felt better for making the
statement.  Oddly, she realized that the pain which she swore would
never leave her somehow felt easier to bear - simply by admitting, to
all her friends, that Angel was gone.  She looked at the computer
teacher suddenly - although she could say no more, the angry storms
in her eyes had disappeared.
     It was enough.  Jenny breathed a sigh of relief as Buffy
continued.  "And I interrupted contact."
     Nightshade nodded.  "I did manage to cast a spell which allows
me to track him, but I still didn't know whether or not the vampires
were the ones who opened the gateway."
     "Until you saw Angel giving smoochies to Miss Raven Lady in the
Bronze last night."  The pieces were finally falling into place.
Buffy turned to Giles.  "Do the prophecies mention anything about
this situation?"
     "No, but we can start looking up basic spells to counteract
faery mischief," replied the librarian.
     "Actually, it's more difficult than that.  A basic milk and
bread spell is not going to work against the Sidhe," replied the
superhero.  "Although it might serve as a distraction to the little
ones, it's also not going to stop the vampires or the larger
creatures that wandered through the gate."
     "I am getting a very bad feeling about all of this," Xander
said.
************************************
(Part Four continued in next installment)

**************************************************
Jennifer Addis-Newton AKA Branwen ferch Modron

[e-mail]
http://www.pipeline.com/~whiteraven

"For if that which you seek, you find not within
 yourself, you will never find it without."
     - from "The Charge of the Goddess"

- -

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

Date: Sun, 22 Mar 1998 12:27:06 +0000
From: "Jennifer Addis-Newton" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Raven's Cry (4/?)

Disclaimer: This story is a cross-over between a superheroic
role-playing campaign and the television show "Buffy the Vampire
Slayer."  All characters related to "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" are the
creations of Joss Whedon et al. It is also entirely possible for
additional well-known characters or ideas to appear in passing.  I
take no credit for these ideas, merely for reworking them so that they
fit into the campaign world.  Caitlin O'Riordan, however, is entirely
my own creation.

Feedback: Please!  This is my first fanfic of any kind.  If
there's any way to make the characters more true to themselves,    I'm
all for it.

Spoilers: None of which I am aware.  My universe diverges from Joss'
with "Passion" -- it didn't happen.

Rating:  Some adult situations and language -- I'd give the whole
thing a solid PG-13.
**********************************
Intermission Two:

Mairrighana remembers.

     The baby, always the baby.  Dulloran wanted a baby.  Ripped from
her, ripped from him.  Humans.  Kill the baby.  No!  Do not make me!
Please, do not make me!  I do not want to.
     Dulloran?  What flowers bloom in your dead eyes, love?  What
suns burn in your sky?  Remember the dancing, Dulloran, under the
bright moon?  Flowers all around us, your smile.  The sun.  Where are
all the dances you promised?  Dead.  Dead.
     Dulloran's sword in the hands of the human.  Dulloran's sword on
the ground.  Breathe.  Breathe.  The human cannot hurt you.  Close
your eyes.  Think of Dulloran.  No!  Do not make me do this!  I will
hurt you.  Yes, hurt humans who killed Dulloran.  The sword is the
key, Dulloran's sword.
     The baby.  Kill humans for Dulloran and the baby.
*******************************************
Part Three:

     "How would you like a night on the town?"  Angel sat down next
to the Morrigan.  He had spent hours talking to the faery.  She was
fascinating - not just because she was beautiful.  She shared the same
dark beauty as Dru but it went much farther than that.  The Morrigan
had taken death to extremes; in the old days, his people had
considered her a goddess.  She understood the poetry of the kill.
     The Morrigan turned to face Angel, a bright smile on her
beautiful face.  "And what does one do on a night like this,
youngling?"  If the sound of war could be musical, it would have been
fashioned into her voice.
     "I feed," the vampire replied.
     The faery looked at Angel with a serious expression on her face.
 "I suppose I could feed as well."  She opened her hands and a large
raven - the likes of which Angel had never seen - appeared between
them.  She spoke to the raven in a language the vampire did not
understand.  The raven cocked its head, flew up into the rafters of
the building, and then landed suddenly on her shoulder.
     "Ah, nice trick," commented Angel.  *Finally,  a babe with some
style.*
     "Macha has not fed in a long while."  The faery rose to her
feet, her silken dress clinging to the curves of her body.  She was
wearing red so dark that it looked like dried blood; it matched her
smile.  "Where is the battlefield?"
     Angel returned the smile.  "We call it the Bronze."
     "An appropriate name for a battlefield."  She extended her hand
to Angel, somewhat delicately.
     The vampire took the faery's hand.  "I thought you might like
it."

     "It's not fair," sighed Dru.  She was holding a small pixie
between her hands, delicately ripping its left wing from its body.
The pixie's mouth opened in agony, but its language was
unintelligible. "Angel stole my old one tonight."
     Spike wheeled closer to his beloved.  "You can always find a new
one, love.  You've still got the gateway."
     "But she was such a nice old one, Spike."  When the pixie
stopped its strangled, high-pitched scream, Dru looked at it
thoughtfully.  The pixie, although frightened, was doing its best not
to show it.  "I don't like these pixies anymore."  She dropped the
pixie in her hand abruptly.
     Spike watched the pixie scrabble its way across the floor.  He
toyed with the idea of following it with the wheelchair but noticed
the expression on Dru's face.  He moved closer to place a comforting
hand on her shoulder.  "We'll get you a new old one, Dru."
     Dru's face brightened with a smile.  "I want a powerful one,
Spike.  More powerful than Angel's old one."
     "And you shall have it," replied Spike, pulling Dru closer to
him for a kiss.

     After visiting several of the "vampire hot spots" in town, Buffy
decided to head back to the library by way of the Bronze.  She knew
that she had more important things on her mind - she had to find out
Nightshade's connection to the vampires - but she had a strange
feeling about the local hangout.  She paused with her hand on the
door, half expecting to feel guiltier than she did, and walked into
the Bronze.
     As soon as she opened the door, she knew instinctively that
something was wrong.  It was quiet - too quiet - and darker than
usual.  Although the band was still on the stage, someone had
apparently piped the jukebox through the sound system.  Tori Amos'
"Little Earthquakes" was filling the room, its melodic beat almost
hypnotic in the gloom. She tentatively touched the nearest person.
     The young man did not flinch.  His body swayed with the motion
of her arm and stopped moving once the body was tilted against the
wall.  Buffy gasped, and spotted movement out of the corner of her
eye.  Two figures were still dancing on the dance floor.  One was
Angel.  The other was a woman, taller than she had ever seen, wearing
a red velvet dress.
     The woman leaned back, enraptured in her dance, and laughed.  It
was almost as hypnotic as the music.  Buffy clenched her fists as
Angel wrapped his arms around the woman, kissing her exposed neck
softly.  His teeth left trailing marks of blood against the woman's
neck, but she did not seem to mind.
     *What's going on?*  The Slayer thought to herself. *A new
vampire?*
     A raven's harsh croak filled the room.  The woman laughed
again, held up her hand, and a large raven landed on her hand.  She
spoke softly to the bird, the musical language unintelligible, and
the bird flew towards one of the band members.  It landed on the
drummer's head and began pecking.
     *Time to size up Angel's new girl toy* Buffy thought to herself
as the raven screeched one more time and continued its pecking.  *Is
that blood?*  Buffy stepped forward resolutely.
     "Is this a private party or can anyone crash?" The Slayer asked
brightly, stepping onto the dance floor.
     The woman merely raised an eyebrow at Buffy's approach.  Buffy
could see the puncture wounds on her neck.  They appeared to be
healing.  The woman turned to Angel, her voice warm in the quiet
room.  "Is this another of your friends, my angel?"
     Angel grinned at Buffy.  "Not a friend, exactly."
     "A lover," the woman responded, her voice a purr.
     Angel laughed outright at the comment.  "Only in her teenage
dreams."
     *Typical.*  Buffy's outward reply to the statement was to jump
forward and attempt to hit Angel in the shoulder with a flying jump
kick.  No sooner had she begun to move did the tall woman turn in her
direction and begin to wave her hands in an intricate pattern.  Buffy
fell to the ground, paralyzed.  She tried to struggle but the
movement only increased the invisible pressure which was holding her
motionless.
     Angel laughed quietly.  The sound of his boots on the floor
echoed sharply through the room.  The vampire walked casually to
where the Slayer lay and kicked her soundly in the side.  Pain lanced
through her body, but Buffy could not roll away from his blows.
     Angel knelt suddenly, caressing Buffy's side in the exact spot
he had kicked.  "This is so like you, Buffy.  Why don't you just lie
back and enjoy it?"  He rose to his feet and kicked Buffy again, much
to the amusement of the tall woman who watched the scene with
brilliant eyes.
     "I thought I would just kill you, Buffy.  Make it quick."  The
vampire walked around her slowly.  "But there's something satisfying
about torturing the Slayer."  His foot cracked against her ribs.
"Maybe it's just me, Buff, but that one sounded like it had to hurt."
     "Let me help," the woman said.  She stepped forward, holding a
wicked-looking knife in her right hand.  "I am uncommonly fond of
torture."  The knife glinted in Buffy's eyes.
     The raven screamed again and was abruptly silenced.  Buffy
watched it arc its way across the Bronze, landing between the woman
and herself.  *What?*  The pressure was gone.  Buffy experimentally
made a fist and rolled to one side.  Jumping to her feet, she stepped
back to appraise the scene.
     The woman in the red dress stared open-mouthed at the raven and
dropped her knife, rushing to the raven's body.  Angel strode
protectively to her side, glaring at the Slayer.  *How can this be my
fault?*  Buffy turned her head just in time to see a dark figure
jump from the stage, twirl in the air, and land on the dance floor.
     "Nightshade!"  Buffy was not entirely surprised to see the
superhero standing next to her.
     "Slayer!" Nightshade returned with a friendlier smile than Buffy
would have anticipated, given the conversation from the night before.
"Fancy meeting you here."
     *Alright, let's go with this.*  Buffy grinned.  "You know us
Slayers - we just don't like it when we're not invited to parties."
     "It's past your bedtime, Buffy," snapped Angel.  His dark eyes
were fuming, and he snarled as he stepped closer to the superhero.
"But I'll start with you."  He flexed his fingers dangerously.
     "Nuke the vamp," Nightshade responded, raising her broom.  "I'll
take the witch."
     "Gladly," Buffy replied, not quite fast enough to step between
the raging vampire and the superhero standing before him.
     "Oh, no you don't!" Angel growled, jumping forward to grab the
broom from the superhero's hands.  "Thanks for the present."
     He was not prepared for Buffy's blow.  She stepped forward,
unconsciously adapting a move from the tai chi class she had started
taking.  Her teacher had explained that blows dealt from the palm of
the hand were powerful, due to the chi which was expelled through a
person's palms.  *What do you know - it works.*  Angel rocked to the
ground, a grim smile on his face.  The broom was still in his hands.
     "If only it were that easy," Nightshade replied.  She made no
attempt to retrieve the broom and whirled in a circle.  "Touch of the
Morrigan!"  When she completed the circle, a ball of dark energy was
balanced on her wrists where her hands had crossed.
     The woman's shoulders went straight as the superhero incanted
her spell and moved to a standing position.  Her voice was soft and
all the more deadly.  "Child, you play with powers you don't
understand."  A cloak of dark feather's seemed to appear on her back,
and it flowed to the ground behind her.  A giant sword, gleaming
silver, appeared in her right hand.
     Buffy tensed, waiting for the next move.  *If I kick her wrist
it's just possible that I can get the sword out of her hands.provided
I can get in the kick before she paralyzes me again.*  Angel was
standing too close to Nightshade and the swirling ball of fury she
held for Buffy to chance grabbing the broom.
     "I don't play," Nightshade replied with a defiant toss of her
blonde braid.  "I win."
     "Never against me, child.  The Tuatha de Danaan destroyed
countless thousands of your race," the woman replied.  She stepped
slowly forward, her sword gathering all the light in the room.  Its
keen edge dripped with blood.  "Invoking power in my name, to use
against me."  Her voices was soft.  "I am the Morrigan."  The faery
now stood before the superhero, and her sword made a slow ascent into
the air.  "Feel the bite of Dulloran's blade."
     The sentence had an electrifying effect on the superhero.
Nightshade's blue eyes widened and her face went chalk-white with
anger.  Giving an inarticulate cry of fury, the superhero threw the
ball directly at the sword making its way towards her.  The sword
seemed to encompass the energy, growing brighter than before.  The
faery smiled.  The energy coalesced and shimmered, bursting into
black sparks within the sword.  It exploded soundlessly, taking most
of the Morrigan's right hand with it.
     The faery's mouth widened with the pain and she stepped
backwards to look at the superhero.  When she spoke, it was in a
contained voice.  "You will pay for that, child."  The Morrigan
looked at her right hand, and narrowed her eyes.  It throbbed and
began to heal.
     "Time for Angel to feed," the vampire interjected.
     "I don't think so," Nightshade replied, in a voice unlike any
Buffy had ever heard.  The anger in her eyes had diminished - barely
controlled.  The superhero pointed a finger at the faery.  "By the
bright moon and the dark forests.  By the sweet water and the
shimmering fire.  By the binding spirits of the shining ones."
     "No!"  There was fear in the faery's eyes.  "How?"
     "You are called, Morrigan ferch Danu, to the fior-comlann."
Nightshade dropped her hand.  "In three days time."
     "On the darkest night of the moon?"  The Morrigan smiled.  "You
are a foolish child."
     Nightshade shrugged her shoulders.  "Do you accept."
     "I do," the faery replied.  "I choose the weapons.  Do you
choose the place?"
     "I will find you, Morrigan ferch Danu."  The superhero's voice
sounded more like itself, and she sighed suddenly.  "In three days
time."
     The faery turned to face the vampire.  "We leave, my angel.  In
three days time, this world will be ours."
     "I can scarcely wait," Angel replied.  He viciously cracked the
broom he was still holding over his knee and threw the broken pieces
at Nightshade.  "Oops.  Did you need that?"  He smiled.
     With a shimmer similar to the one used by Nightshade the night
before, the vampire and the faery suddenly disappeared from the
center of the dance floor.  Buffy lowered her hands and turned to the
superhero.  There was an emotion far deeper than sadness on
Nightshade's face.  Buffy placed a hand on the superhero's arm.  "Are
you alright?"
     "Yes."  Nightshade picked up the pieces of her broom, tried to
put the two pieces together, and sighed again when it fell apart.  "I
lose more brooms this way."
     "Can't you just use magic?"  Buffy asked, flicking her fingers
awkwardly.
     Nightshade laughed, although her eyes did not change expression.
 "It's just a broom, Buffy.  I only carry it to look the part."  Her
eyes brightened to match the smile.  "You realize, of course, that
I'm divulging a trade secret."
     "Speaking of brooms, it's clean-up time," Buffy replied, turning
to look at the figures in the room.  "The drummer," she remembered
suddenly.
     "He'll be fine."  Nightshade replied.  "Being able to heal
people is one of the perks of the job."  She muttered something under
her breath which Buffy did not hear.
     The Slayer nodded and began to make her way through the room,
assessing the condition of the onlookers.  A few had already been
bitten - it looked as though Angel had been taking his time.  "Got a
few live ones here."
     "Vampires?" Nightshade asked from the other side of the room.
She was looking intently at someone Buffy recognized - Harmony,
Cordelia's friend.  "This one doesn't have the marks."
     Buffy sighed.  "I'm not certain how I would have explained that
one to Cordy."  She began to make a mental inventory of those in the
room who had been bitten by Angel.  "Looks like I'll be spending the
next couple of nights in the cemetery."
     "I'm going to need your help in three days," returned
Nightshade.  There was a thoughtful expression on her face.  "Doesn't
fire kill vampires?"
     Buffy nodded.  "I did the same thing to."  A thought suddenly
occurred to her.  "You're not going to burn down the Bronze, are
you?"
     The superhero appeared next to Buffy, a ball of fire in her
right hand.  "No.  If you would be so kind as to point out the first
target?"  Nightshade's blue eyes followed Buffy's finger.  She peered
at the girl's neck, nodded slightly, and whispered softly to herself
before touching the girl's body with the ball of fire.
     Buffy folded her arms across her chest, watching the fire burn
its victim - and only its victim.  The superhero moved onto the next
of Angel's prey and slowly repeated the process.  She thought over
the only two words she had been able to hear before Nightshade had
burned the first victim.  *Forgive me.*  Buffy echoed the sentiment
silently as she scattered the ashes that remained.
***************************************
(Intermission Three begins the next installment)
**************************************************
Jennifer Addis-Newton AKA Branwen ferch Modron

[e-mail]
http://www.pipeline.com/~whiteraven

"For if that which you seek, you find not within
 yourself, you will never find it without."
     - from "The Charge of the Goddess"

- -

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

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