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buffyfic-digest         Friday, April 10 1998         Volume 02 : Number 116



In this issue:

       BUFFYFIC: "Reunion" (10/?) by Ingrid
       BUFFYFIC: "Reunion" (9/?) by Ingrid

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Date: Fri, 10 Apr 1998 23:45:28 -0400
From: [e-mail] (Ingrid E Stanton)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Reunion" (10/?) by Ingrid

DISCLAIMER: The characters of Angel, Buffy, Cordelia,
Willow, Xander, Jenny, Giles & company are the property
of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Sandollar Productions,
and The Warner Brothers Network, and are used without
permission. The author claims no rights to these characters.

SUMMARY: Yeah! IÆm happy. Today is OFFICIALLY
the first day of my vacation!!! That means that this one
is kind of an "upper," at least compared to the more
recent parts. YouÆll like this one. IÆve included some
sarcastic humor. Heh heh...what's humor?

Welcome to my story. It takes place ten years into the
future, but IÆm not telling you whatÆs happened in
advance. IÆm going to reveal that as time goes on in
the story. I love to get feedback, except when my
mailbox explodes, which is often, but send it anyway!
My address is [e-mail]. If you donÆt get this,
thatÆs because you havenÆt read the other parts. If you want
to get this, ask me for them!

*********
"Reunion," by Ingrid
Part Ten: "Getting There"
*********

Buffy struggled with the plastic wrapped utensils as the
pilotÆs voice came over the loudspeaker: "And now were
passing over Skyville, home to theà"

Damn. She could think of several vampires that had been
easier to take care of than this.

Angel was nonchalantly poking at his food in the chair next
to her, having had more success with the stubborn  packaging.
He always poked at his food. Right now, though, it was getting
really annoying. She was hungry, and she wanted to rip the fork
out of his hand and use it herself. With one last effort, she
yanked the wrapping open, and the plastic knife hit Angel in
the arm.

He looked at her briefly, and without saying a word, turned back
to his food.

She picked up the knife.

Where was the fork?!

She growled and stabbed the knife into the lifeless chicken breast.
Fine. With or without the fork she was going to eat.

Where had all this aggression come from, anyway?

Anxiety, maybe?

The chicken was a bit *too* chewy. With a short huff of anger, she
shoved the tray back onto the shelf in front of her. Her stomach
growled, but she ignored it.

She refused to admit she was nervous. After all, it was only Xander
and Cordelia,

and Gilesà

That was the problem. Their phone conversations hadnÆt exactly been
the friendliest theyÆd ever had. Certainly the most awkward, though.

Suddenly the lights dimmed, and she looked up. The movie was
starting. Damn. She hated these things. They always played some
lame black and white horror film, or worse yet, a romance.

She glanced back at angel he was setting his tray down on the shelf
with one hand, and the baby had the other hand occupied, clutching
his index finger from her child-seat. Neatly, he set his utensils down
and turned his attention to Willow, who was now making little
gurgling sounds and getting shushed by the other passengers.

Buffy reached under the seat and unzipped the duffel-bag a little,
pulling out a warm bottle of milk. She nudged Angel and handed
him the bottle. In moments, Willow was both pacified and sleepy,
and the passengers seemed to think it was a good combination.

Buffy was surprised when Angel turned to her and asked, "So, are
you nervous?"

"Why would you say that?"

"I wouldnÆt. Just a question. To tell you the truth, I donÆt think
theyÆll be too happy to see me. Maybe I shouldnÆt have come."

"No, Angel." She patted his shoulder in reassurance. "YouÆre a part
of my life." Looking at the baby, she added, "You two are a part of
my life, and sooner or later, Giles is gonna have to accept it. You.
Us. HeÆs just hurting."

"I know. I could never blame him for it. How would I feel in his
place. I think it was a miracle that he could have even stood in the
same room with me without going insane."

"Giles is a good person, and heÆll come around. I know it."

"I hope so."

The music struck a violent, cheesy chord, and Buffy looked up to
see a goofy-looking man with plastic fangs rising from a coffin.

Dracula.

How appropriate. She dropped her head to AngelÆs shoulder and
groaned.

"Just my luck."

*******
END, PART TEN.
Some feedback each day keeps the badfic away ([e-mail])!

_____________________________________________________________________
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
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- -

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

Date: Sat, 11 Apr 1998 00:08:01 -0400
From: [e-mail] (Ingrid E Stanton)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Reunion" (9/?) by Ingrid

DISCLAIMER: The characters of Angel, Buffy, Cordelia,
Willow, Xander, Jenny, Giles & company are the property
of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Sandollar Productions,
and The Warner Brothers Network, and are used without
permission. The author claims no rights to these characters.

SUMMARY: WeÆll get to hear from Cordelia in this one.
This is the last angsty one. The next to parts will be fun,
so just read this and stop your complaining! <g>

Welcome to my story. It takes place ten years into the
future, but IÆm not telling you whatÆs happened in
advance. IÆm going to reveal that as time goes on in
the story. I love to get feedback, except when my
mailbox explodes, which is often, but send it anyway!
My address is [e-mail]. If you donÆt get this,
thatÆs because you havenÆt read the other parts. If you want
to get this, ask me for them!

*********
"Reunion," by Ingrid
Part Nine: "Reflections"
*********

Cordelia extricated herself from his arms. Her feet hit the cold
floor and she shivered, stepping out into the airy sitting-room
and leaning against the white wall.

Cold. The wood floor was cold, the wall was cold, and the black
leather armchair she slipped into was colder.

She got up again.

It was dark outside the great window, where her image was
superimposed on a backdrop of stars.

The eyes were dark and tired, and stars outlined her hair in
gold.

She took a wobbly breath and backed away- how sheÆd
changed!

She remembered some faces vaguely- Her father, right before
heÆd passed away, bitterly bemoaning his fate; WillowÆs terrified
expression even in death; and their grief-stricken faces at the
funeral.

Latin phrases danced in her head as fresh memory played back
in her mind. The gentle light, her mission, their words, her
mission, the line, her mission. It was always about her mission
these days.

She looked back at the bedroom door mournfully. She was
surprised everyday when he didnÆt emerge from that door with a
suitcase and tell her he was leaving. SheÆd seen it in her head a
thousand times and sighed late at night, while he slept. She hadnÆt
been getting much sleep for the past year: her job was finally
taking its toll.

And she felt nothing but pain and an endless responsibility.
Moments of sanity were rare now, and she took little time to
consider anything else but duty.

She rubbed her temples to relieve the headache sheÆd endured
all day and pulled out the pile of books from the shelf.

*Might as well get some work done, if IÆm not going to get
any sleep.*

The translation had been one of the most difficult tasks sheÆd
had to perform so far. Corin had been useful, as always, but
now she was probably curled asleep in bed,

Logarithms and cosines dancing in her headà

The ease with which the girl had accepted her fate never ceased
to amaze the new watcher. SheÆd slain demons as easily as
sheÆd help her mother wash the dishes, or practice her viola. It was just
another
thing she did.

Cordelia smiled at her innocence and strength. Something sheÆd
lost over the years. She felt like an old woman, and it surprised
her to see the brunette in the mirror each morning looking back
at her.

The watcher looked back down at her book. She wasnÆt getting
any work done. Funny. It was the thought of her responsibilities
that were keeping her from them.

She closed the cover, capable of neither sleep nor research.

Her feet were getting numb tucked up under her. She stood
shakily, and reentered the bedroom.

It was pitch dark except for the red glow of an LCD- the alarm
clock, with the little dot that meant sheÆd be waking up at
six-thirty tomorrow.

With a decisive air, she clicked a button, and the little dot was
gone. She sunk into bed like a body being gently lowered into
the ground.
********
END, PART NINE
Send feedback to [e-mail] please!

Ingrid: Author of many long Buffyfics (and some short ones). "Return to
Normalcy,"
"One Vampire's Headache...," "This Fleeting Hope," "Ghost of a Chance,"
"Tragic
Sighs" and "Footsteps."

_____________________________________________________________________
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]


- -

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

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