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buffyfic-digest          Monday, May 25 1998          Volume 02 : Number 202



In this issue:

       BUFFYFIC: The Librarian's Discovery (1/1)
       Re: BUFFYFIC: The Librarian's Discovery (1/1)
       BUFFYFIC: "No Need To Argue" (1/4)
       BUFFYFIC: "No Need To Argue" (3/4)
       BUFFYFIC: "No Need To Argue" (4/4)

See the end of the digest for information on (un)subscribing to the buffyfic
or buffyfic-digest mailing lists and on how to retrieve back issues.

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

Date: Mon, 25 May 1998 02:20:59 EDT
From: LnCAGCRulz <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Librarian's Discovery (1/1)

Title:  The LibrarianÆs Discovery
Author:  Emily J. Jerome ([e-mail])
Rating:  Gà G-, even  :)
Summary: Giles makes a discovery (betchaÆ didnÆt figure that one
     out) and a few corrections along the way.
Placement:  wherever you want to put it, I guess :)
Distribution:  Take it, place it, let people see it!  (The code I live
     by.  ;)  The one thing I ask: let me know beforehand.
Feedback:  Congratulate me or flame me û I expect both so feel
     free.  Either here or privately is fine, although I ask that, at the
     expense of others, you only send opinions that everyone would
     be concerned about to the list.  If you canÆt decide which, if
     youÆre expecting a response from ME back, send it straight to
     me.  Any questions.  :)
Note:  I know that it probably isnÆt my place to say, but IÆve
     noticed that many fanfic writers donÆt put as much care into
     their work as they could.  Thereby IÆve taken it upon myself to
     point out a view common problems.  The point should be
     made that there are many writers out there who do a fabulous
     job with their fics.  Likewise, there are many who have too
     many distracting problems left in.  This is, if nothing else, a
     way for me to put a quickie English lesson into a fun fanfic.
     Or semi-fun, at least.  I have missed mistakes, I know.  ItÆs 1
     oÆsomething in the morningà IÆm burntà IÆm tiredà the
     typical whine of a high schooler.  ;)  I donÆt expect everyone to
     agree with me, and whether you do or you donÆt, IÆd like you
     to let your thoughts be known.  Also, while IÆm at it, I donÆt
     really want everyone to think that IÆm a English professor at
     some prodigious school.  IÆm simply me û a high school
     freshman (cut the freshman cracksà IÆm only in this place for
     12 and a half more days <g>) who actually likes writing and
     the English language as a whole.  I make mistakes.  I was
     educated through eighth grade in the California public school
     system.  I DO MAKE MISTAKES!  IÆve gone through spell
     check on this thing, just like everyone else does.  Basically,
     donÆt think IÆm taking down to yaÆ, because that really isnÆt my
     intent.

Now, without further adoà

The LiberianÆs Discovery
by Emily J. Jerome ([e-mail])

Giles walked up to the laptop sitting in the corner of the library.
After taking a look at the flying colored lines on the screen, the
man sighed.

"I swear.  Willow must leave this... thing here - on, nonetheless -,
just to try to get me to do... whatever it is you do with it," he said
under his breath.

After a few more minutes of non-coherently staring at the screen,
Giles decided that he may as well go for it.  Resting his elbows on
the edge of the counter, he put his finger softly on the small red
mouse positioned between the keys.  Not until he tried everything
else did the librarian run is index finger over the button, an action
which finally interrupted the indefinitely repeating colors.
"Finally," he murmured as his finger kept hitting the ball, making
the cursor fly across the screen.  Only after chasing the thing with
his eyes for a few minutes did he realize that it was, in fact, is
actions that were causing the rapid movement.  Only when the
white arrow had finally ceased movement Giles was able to focus
on the true content of the screen.

"Buffy The Vampire Slayer Fanfic," he read out loud.  "They
KNOW?  Who are these people?!?  And what is fanfic?"

Repositioning his glasses on his nose and navigating the cursor to
the correct link, he clicked.  As he rested his head on his right
hand, he began to read.

                    a pom four angle
          oh angle i love yo i wish you wer myne forevr and
          ever and you are so sexi and i luv you and you ned
          to dump tht bufie girl

He read the words on his screen once, then twice, and a third time
aloud before truly understanding what it said.  "Poem!" the
reserved man exclaimed, perhaps a little too loud for is solitary
state.  "They think they wrote a POEM!  Not a pom!"  Then, after
future consideration he added, "Except that's technically prose...
and lacking complete sentences... and correctly spelled words...
and grammar of any kind... and any sense whatsoever."  He
punctuated his thoughts with a sigh, completely having forgotten
the similarity to his own life what he was reading held.

It took awhile, but eventually Giles found the 'Back' button on the
browser and returned to the story listing.  He followed another
link and took the time to read, hoping that this writer was a little
more caring of their work.

                    Happily Ever After

So far, the title looked good.  This persuaded the man to read
further.

          Writers Note:  I wrote this by myself.  I do not
          own these people, some guy with a lot of money
          does.  I don't have any money.  I'm just a poor
          13-year-old who doesnÆt know how to write.
          This is just fun for me.  Send your comments
          to me at [e-mail].  Oh, and I don't make
          any money off of this.  None.  Not at all.  And I
          own everything you don't know.  Ha, ha, ha.
          Mine, mine, mine.  I was smart enough to
          make them, not you, so they're mine.

"And I'm not sharing!" he added in a faux high-pitched voice.
"Well then... cocky are we?"  With that he moved on to another
story.

                    Without Fear
          Authors Note:  You know the typical... I don't
          own 'em, I don't make any money off 'em, no
          copyright infringement intended.  Please send
          all comments to me at [e-mail].

          Xander walked into the library.  He looked at
          Giles standing by a table.  Giles was reading
          another book.  He was always reading a book.
          "What are you reading?" the boy asked.  "A
          book," said the librarian.  "What's it about?"
          Xander asked.  "Vampires and demons," the
          librarian said.  "Oh.  That's what you always
          read about," the boy said.  Then he said some
          sarcastic comment, because he always does.

          Willow came into the library.  She hit Xander
          because he said something stupid.  "Xander,"
          she said.  "What?" he said.  She sighed at him.
          Then all three of them turned to the door to see
          Buffy walk in.

"Potential, at least..." Giles murmured.  "Full sentences... even if
they are predictable and repetitive in format.  Quotes... with
unnecessary tags.  Quotes, still.  It may have had a good story,
even."  Deciding the story was too constant in phrasing, Giles
once again moved on.

                    My Life as a Slayer

          Author's Note:  I can't spell, so get ovr it.

          I hat slaing vampires.  Their stupid.  I dont lik them.
          it wood be nice if they'd all die ded.  But thats my
          job thou.  I gues I can do it.  I dont wat too tough.

Not even taking the time to read after the first few lines, he
carried on.  These machines did have spell checks, right?

                    A Good Fanfic

"Woah, catchy titleà"

          As Buffy walked into the library, she looked
          around.  She notices it was empty, and decided
          to find out why.  Walking quickly out the door,
         she will run down the street, only to find it
         empty just like the library is.

"Tense agreementà I would have thought everyone would have
learned that youngà"  Knowing that the inconsistency of tense
would make him nervous, Giles went on to one last story before
finally leaving school for the day, just past 11 oÆclock at night.

                    The LibrarianÆs Discovery

          Authors Note:  I know that it probably isn't my
          place to say, but I've noticed that many fanfic
          writers don't put enough care into their work
          as they could.  Thereby I've taken it upon
          myself to point out a few common problems.

"Where does she think she gets all that power from?  My god..."
He skipped that one as well, closing the computer down to the
best of his ability.  "And what is fanfic, anyway?"

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

Date: Mon, 25 May 1998 07:55:11 EDT
From: KylenRevik <[e-mail]>
Subject: Re: BUFFYFIC: The Librarian's Discovery (1/1)

::laughing so hard she's nearly falling out of her chair:: Brava! ::claps::

::takes a breath::

Honestly, nice points made. <g> Though I *did* notice a few typos-- "is"
instead of "his", etc. Which is why, in addition to spellchecking, you've got
to also read it carefully...like the other day I turned "Future Imperfect" in
for an english assignment, and as I was reading thru it I realized I'd used
"yes" instead of "eyes"-- typoed and left off the first "e". Luckily, had time
to reprint. :) But that kind of thing *is* important.

Rachel

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

Date: Mon, 25 May 1998 11:55:56 EDT
From: KylenRevik <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "No Need To Argue" (1/4)

Notes: This takes place after "The Becoming II", over summer vacation...I'm
thinking mid-July.
Disclaimers: I don't own any of this except for Scott and Tyler, and even then
I only own the names and the idea of the characters 'cause Joss has dibs on
the Dingoes themselves. Story is mine. Yadda yadda yadda.
Distribution: Not without my permission, please.
Feedback: Positive & negative both welcome, private or public, but if public
be sure the rest of the list would wanna know. :) Private to
[e-mail].

~

                       "No Need To Argue"

     "Yo, Ozzie! You kiss her any longer, and you're gonna be
fuckin' _fucking_ her!"
     Scott turned around and smacked Devon on the head, and the
lead singer flinched away before turning a defensive look on the
drummer.
     "What the hell was that for?" he yelled.
     "You're being freaking obnoxious, man!" Scott hissed.
     "Yeah, well, look at him kissing her!" Devon turned his
attention back to the window, looking out at where Oz was saying a
seriously fond good-bye to his girlfriend, that mousy techhead
high-schooler, and shook his head. "S'not like we're gonna be gone
for-fuckin'-ever, you know."
     Scott glanced out the window and shrugged, though inwardly he
had to admit that this kiss was lasting, well, longer than most
good-bye kisses lasted. "He's not gonna see her for two months," he
said weakly.
     "I mean," Devon continued, taking no notice of Scott's point,
"it's not like he won't have the chance to kiss anybody till we get
back, you know, groupies and stuff." He shook his head, obviously
disapprobing. "He's a college man now! He shouldn't be hanging
around with losers like that--" He broke off at the look Scott gave
him, and shook his head. "Man, I dunno whatcher beef is."
     "He's a friend. She's his girlfriend." He shook his head.
"That means you show _respect_, man. I mean, what's _your_ problem
with her? S'not my type, but you know, that doesn't mean I have to
put her down every chance I get."
     "You know," Devon said, looking at him sideways, "just don't,
okay? Don't."
     "Don't what, tell you to get a grip on the 'tude before you--"
     "Before I what?!"
     "Before you make some kinda ass outta yourself!" Scott sighed,
shaking his head. "Man," he continued, "this is just not a good way
to start this trip, so let's drop it now."
     Devon looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, fine,"
he acceded.
     Scott sat in silence for a moment before leaning on the horn
a little. He didn't think Devon had any kind of point, but well,
there _was_ a limit to how much of this lovey-dovey-P-D-A crap a
guy could be expected to just sit by and watch.
                                *
     "Whoa," Oz said, pulling away from Willow as the van's horn
blasted behind them. He grinned a little, brushing her face with
his fingers. "Time for me to book would be now, it appears."
     Willow smiled slightly, and for a moment Oz could almost
ignore the pained light that had been in her eyes since before the
end of the school year, after Buffy had left. And hadn't come back.
Then her smile faded and she gave him another quick kiss. "I'll
miss you," she offered.
     He smiled. "Miss you too," he replied. Then he glanced back
toward her house. "But, well, don't let that mean you don't go out,
hang with the gang, okay? Have party-time."
     "Cordelia's at some fancy summer camp," Willow reminded him,
"and Xander's got the internship at Channel Four." And Giles hadn't
been around much since the end of the year, Oz knew, but Willow
didn't say that. She didn't say much of anything these days. She
shrugged.
     "No party-time to be had." He sighed, then shrugged. "Well,
I'll be back, before you know it even."
     "I know."
     The tone in which she said the words was so quiet, so
softspoken, that Oz felt something inside him wanting to stay here
with her-- or even take her on the trip, though he had a pretty
good idea of how that kind of news would have gone over with the
rest of the guys.  Neither option being plausible, he moved to give
her another kiss.
     Their lips had barely touched when he heard Devon's voice ring
out. Again. "Oz, would you fucking get a _move_ on?! We wanna be in
LA before _tomorrow_, you know!"
     He sighed, resting his forehead against Willow's for a moment,
then pulling away. "I gotta go," he told her, and when she nodded
he gave her hand a quick squeeze. Then he walked over to the van,
waving as he climbed into the driver's seat.
     "Nice show," Devon grinned from the back seat.
     Oz half-turned and shot him a look. "What about the tone you
said that in leads me to doubt your sincerity?"
     Rolling his eyes, Devon shook his head. "F'get it, man," he
said, "just forget it."
     Exchanging a quick look with Scott, Oz just shrugged, then
slid a tape into the stereo and turned up the volume.
     *What a way to start the vacation,* he thought with an inward
sigh as he started the engine and the van pulled out of the
driveway, then drove away and left Willow standing on his front
lawn, alone.

~

Comments to [e-mail], please.

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

Date: Mon, 25 May 1998 11:56:08 EDT
From: KylenRevik <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "No Need To Argue" (3/4)

Comments and requests for missing pieces to [e-mail], please. See
part 1 for notes and disclaimers.

~

     Losing himself in the music had been the one good thing that
had happened to Oz since the band had left Sunnydale that morning.
After a long ride, he and Scott had picked up Chinese and ridden
the rest of the way home in silence. The night had begun on an odd
note, and as it had worn on Oz was fast becoming more and more
aware of by how little Scott had been exaggerating earlier, about
Devon and his general level of pissy-ness.
     He had hoped that once the music started flowing, the members
of the band would loosen up some, trust each other a little more,
stop acting like such idiots. It wasn't happening. Devon's voice
was off by a few notes every little while, and though most of the
audience wouldn't see it, Oz knew. Scott's drumming was a little
hard on the downbeat, he was putting his trap set through a little
more abuse than it was used to. Tyler, he'd been playing the
plastic keys of his keyboard like there was no tomorrow, but at
least he hadn't been screwing up chords like usual. That was a
relief, if nothing else was. And for himself, Oz knew he had missed
a few chords thinking about things outside the music when the notes
should have been the only things possessing his soul.
     The first set came to a close, and they got applause, but not
the kind he had expected. It was an applause that said they'd done
okay, given an okay first try, but the crowd wasn't impressed. And
that, Oz knew, was not a good thing.
     So as the band filed off stage after assuring the people who'd
come that they'd be back in an hour, Oz wasn't sure what to expect
from the others. He half wondered if Devon would go mingle, pick up
a girl or three, just to avoid him. Because he wasn't going to let
this one rest. Not when they were on their first real tour, and not
when they seemed to be setting themselves up to fail so badly.
     "Dev," he called as soon as they were out of earshot of the
stage.
     Devon stopped, then glanced at Scott and Tyler, then to Oz.
"Yeah?" he asked.
     "Chill, would you? Out there?"
     "You nuts?" Devon shook his head, a slightly arrogant smile
passing over his lips. "Man, I'm hot out there tonight. Chillin' is
_not_ what I plan on--"
     "Devon," Oz interrupted, his voice somehow remaining even,
"look. You don't like Willow, fine, but don't like her on your own
time 'cause I love her and she's not _going_ anywhere."
     Devon stared at him for a moment, apparently unsure of how to
react to the statement, now that it had been made, and made so
plainly. Finally, he spoke. "Yeah, well." He shrugged, and there
was no animosity in his voice when he spoke again. "Suit your
fucking self, man. I need a glass of water." He turned and walked
toward the bar, presumably to fulfill his need for a drink.
     Oz turned to Scott, the look on his face asking what Scott
thought of how he'd handled things. Scott just shrugged. "Luck,
man," he said, then he too walked off in the direction Devon had
gone in.
                                *
     Third set, almost over, end of the night and mostly nobody was
sticking around anymore. They hadn't run out of songs, but the
Dingoes were obviously getting tired, and the crowd had picked up
on it. The night hadn't gone so well. Oz supposed there was at
least the fact that he and Devon were now speaking to each other
again, without the hidden desire to rip each other in half, and he
should be happy with that, and he was, sort of. Now, what was
distracting him was that Willow wasn't here. She was alone, back in
Sunnydale.
     He sighed. Willow hadn't been in a good way since Buffy had
left, and it sucked, and there wasn't a hell of a lot he could do
about it. Whatever had happened, he hadn't been in on it. He shook
his head slightly, concentrating harder on the music. One of his
songs, he knew it by heart and it was just a matter of
concentrating on putting the same feelings Willow had shown when
he'd talked to her, the night he'd gotten the idea on how to write
it. That had hurt, big time. Seeing the woman he loved so upset.
Not that it wasn't completely justified upset-ness, because he knew
if one of his best friends suddenly vanished he'd be pretty damn
upset, too, but it always tore him apart to see Willow in this much
pain. And then he'd gone off and left her back in Sunnydale without
him.
     He tossed a glance over to Devon, who was just moving into the
second repetition of the refrain.

     //Can you catch a falling star without burning your hand?
     Even footsteps have to fade when they're made upon the sand
     And nobody's invincible, everyone makes mistakes
     You never meant to hurt them and you can't be
          she who breaks.//

     He winced inwardly, the intensity flowing through his body to
his fingers, letting them play that much harder as he remembered
the look on Willow's face. *"She probably thinks we're all-- that
we'll hate her,"* Willow had said, explaining why it was she
thought Buffy hadn't come home yet. *"She's so _hard_ on herself,
and I mean, you know, if she would just, just look at everything
she's done, then she'd see that even, you know, if any of this was
her fault, it wouldn't _matter_, because she's still one of my and
Xander's best friends, and..."*
     As Willow had continued, talking for hours on end about Buffy
and how much she missed her, the ideas for the song had begun to
form in Oz's mind, and he'd written it in the space of half an hour
as soon as he'd dropped her off at home. He'd never shown it to
Willow, mostly because he was half-afraid he was invading somewhere
she might want to keep private. But it was a good song, and it
needed to be played, so he'd suggested it as one of the songs they
could play near the end of the last set. That way, if it turned out
to be a flop, it wouldn't be as though that many people were around
to hear it. And if it wasn't, then they would be able to end off
with something halfway decent.
     The song moved into the musical bridge, and Oz found himself
playing so hard that he could feel the skin on his fingers getting
sore, stinging even through the callouses he'd had for years.
Happened every so often. Tyler's keyboarding was strong, Scott had
finally stopped trying to beat his drums into pieces, and Devon's
voice was back on target for nearly every note.
     Oz allowed himself a slight smile, pulling himself up from the
guilt at how he was having a decently good time while Willow was
most likely home alone and miserable. He shook his head, his eyes
closed, as the song moved into the final verse and then slowed and
ended.
     The applause from the remaining members of the audience wasn't
what it had been earlier in the evening, but in comparison to the
proportion of people who had stayed, it was strong. Oz smiled
slightly. So he had at least captured something true there, then.
Hadn't been a complete poser, and his attempt to hold onto the look
in Willow's eyes and the tone in her voice when she'd spoken about
Buffy hadn't been completely in vain.
     "Hey," Devon whispered across the stage, covering the mike to
keep from broadcasting to the audience, "I say we cut it there.
Good ending."
     The other members of Dingoes Ate My Baby nodded, and all took
their final bows as Devon announced that he hoped everybody had a
nice night, etcetera, and so on. Then the band left the stage, and
Oz found that he was decently happy about how the night had wound
up going.

~

Comments to [e-mail], please.

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

Date: Mon, 25 May 1998 11:56:12 EDT
From: KylenRevik <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "No Need To Argue" (4/4)

See part 1 for notes and disclaimers. Comments to [e-mail], please,
along with requests for missing pieces.

~

     "Hey, he's got a girlfriend."
     "Well where is he?"
     "What, you can't hear me? He's not gonna be _interested_, hot
stuff."
     "Well," the female voice snapped, and Oz again shook the
feeling that it was somewhat familiar, "I don't care if he's
interested or not, 'cause I'm only interested in talking to him. So
where is he?"
     There was a moment of silence, and then Oz heard Devon mumble
something grudgingly, and the woman's voice say an impatient, "Now
see, that wasn't so hard." Then he heard footsteps coming toward
the back of the club, where he and Scott were loading up the van
with equipment.
     "Hey," came the woman's voice from behind him. "Oz?"
     He started to turn, prepared to give whoever this girl was a
quick brush-off and good-bye. Devon, though he'd been slightly
over-obnoxious about it, was completely correct in the point that
Oz wasn't interested in hooking up with any groupies.
     But when he saw her, his eyes widened and he did a double-
take. He considered a triple, then decided that would be
counterproductive, and stared instead. "Buffy?" Knowing Willow
would want a full report, Oz took in the girl's appearance. She had
lost weight. Her hair wasn't perfectly done, and her clothing
seemed slightly less up-to-speed than usual, but she was still
_Buffy_. "Where've you been?" he asked.
     "Around," she shrugged. "You free to talk? Just for a few?"
     Oz glanced at Scott, who was giving him a strange look, then
back to Buffy and nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Scott, take care of
things, I owe you one."
     When Buffy nodded for him to follow her, he did so, not sure
of where would be the best place to start firing off questions. Or
even, he realized, if firing questions was something he should be
thinking about doing.
     Instead, he stayed quiet as Buffy led him to a coffee bar
around the corner, then moved to a booth, indicating for him to
join her. "So," he said with a swallow. "How've you been?"
     "Okay," she shrugged. She dug into her jacket pocket,
withdrawing an 8x10 sheet of wrinkled paper-- a modest-sized
publicity poster, the kind that got hung in windows and coffee
shops-- and smoothing it onto the tabletop. "Saw that you guys were
going to play," she said by way of explanation.
     Oz nodded, unsure of what he was supposed to say.
     "And you know, I thought maybe I'd just come in a little..."
     She looked up at him, and Oz sighed, not knowing what to say
or how to say it, finally deciding that honesty was the best policy
here. As usual. "Willow misses you," he said, his voice neither
accusatory nor judgmental. He had the feeling Buffy wasn't needing
that kind of pressure at this point. "But she'll be glad when I
tell her you're okay, so well, that's a good thing..." He trailed
off when Buffy shook her head. "Not a good thing?"
     "Not a telling-Willow thing."
     His brow furrowed. "Buffy," he began, but she spoke before he
could finish.
     "Oz, don't tell them I'm around here, okay? I don't want them
coming looking for me."
     "But Willow--"
     "Is going to have to stay worried," Buffy said in a firm but
worried tone. "Because I don't want her to come looking for me."
     Oz swallowed. "Lying's just...not," he told her. "She asks,
I'll tell her." He hated saying it, but in the end his loyalty was
to Willow-- not the friend who had run away from her.
     Buffy looked at him for a long moment, then nodded.
"Yeah...okay." She swallowed. "But you won't bring it up unless she
asks first.
     Oz nodded. "Deal."
     "Is she okay? All of them?"
     "Everybody's around," he shrugged. "Existing. Living."
     Buffy nodded, and for a moment Oz saw a haunted, frightened
look in her eyes. It was gone as soon as it had come, and he found
himself unsure of whether it had ever really been there at all, or
not.
     "Why'd you go?" he asked.
     She shrugged. "They don't need me around, screwing up their
lives. They don't need me to hurt them."
     "But--"
     "Oz," she broke in, and he became aware of the fact that she
wasn't listening to him at all, "don't fight me on this, and don't
tell me about them. Please."
     He nodded, though the gesture was somewhat reluctant. "Okay,
so."
     "So." They watched each other for a few seconds, then she
managed a slight smile. "I just, you know, wanted to check up on
things. You know."
     "Yeah," he replied, "yeah, checking is cool, I guess. You
should come back."
     "I can't. Ever."
     Why not, he wanted to ask. He still didn't know the whole
story, everything that had happened and why she had gone, but if
what Willow said was true, he knew she could come home. But how to
tell her that?
     Slowly, she stood, backing away a little. "I'm..." She offered
a slight smile. "I have to go," she said. "Slaying stuff."
     He nodded. "Okay," he replied. "And Buffy?"
     "Yeah?"
     "Thanks. For saving her."
     The blonde's expression fell, and she shook her head. "I
didn't save anybody," she replied softly, before she turned and
walked away.
     Oz stared after her, unsure of what had just happened. It had
seemed like Buffy, it had acted like Buffy-- at least, it had acted
like what he sort of kinda remembered Buffy acting like, or
something. But she'd just...and then...and he shook his head as
Scott walked up behind him. "So like, I was looking for you,
what're you doing out here?"
     "Hm?"
     "Earth to Ozzie-boy," Scott said, snapping his fingers in
front of Oz's face, "but we _do_ want to get, y'know, back to
Devon's uncle's place before there's no more time to sleep, so you
wanna forget mystery girl and get a move on?"
     Oz swallowed, his eyes still glued to where Buffy had vanished
to, and it was a long few moments before he finally nodded. "Yeah,"
he said, "okay."
     "C'mon, then," Scott told him, ushering him back toward the
club.
     As they walked, Oz found himself wondering what it was that
had just taken place, how it had happened, how it could have
happened, and what he would tell Willow when he got home. He was
tempted to break away from Scott, go after Buffy, and then...what?
He couldn't force her to come back to Sunnydale, couldn't do
anything like that. He sighed, resigning himself to the knowledge
that at the very least, despite his promise, he could tell Willow
her friend had seemed alright.
     He hoped.
     As Scott slid into the driver's seat, letting Oz take the
passenger one and stay immersed in his thoughts, Oz was slowly
considering what had happened and what would happen now. He'd just
seen Buffy, that much was sure. And he wasn't going to be talking
to Willow for at least another few days. Whatever the Slayer had
meant by not being able to come home, Oz knew Willow would disagree
with it. What's more, he could see in Buffy's eyes that living on
the streets, or wherever it was she'd been living, was not a good
thing for her.
     He sighed and shook his head, knowing he couldn't have
followed her if she hadn't wanted to be trailed, but wishing he'd
have been able to do more.
     "Hey man," Scott said from the driver's seat. "You okay?"
     His eyes moving skyward, where he could barely make out the
form of a half-moon through the Los Angeles smog, Oz shrugged.
"Yeah," he said.
     "So who was the chick?"
     "A friend," Oz replied. "Somebody I used to kinda know."
     There was no answer from the teen driving the car, and they
drove the rest of the way to Devon's uncle's house in silence.

THE END

Copyright 1998
Rachel Brody

Comments to [e-mail].

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