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buffyfic-digest       Thursday, August 13 1998       Volume 02 : Number 299



In this issue:

       BUFFYFIC: "Faith" -- "Part Four: Circles" (4/9)
       BUFFYFIC: It was a Dark and Stormy Night...
       BUFFYFIC: "Faith" -- "Part Five: The Dreaming Tree" (5a/9)

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: Thu, 13 Aug 1998 10:55:14 EDT
From: <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Faith" -- "Part Four: Circles" (4/9)

Feedback: To [e-mail]. Positive, or constructive criticism, whatever
you think about it, I want to hear!

See part one for all notes and disclaimers. Feel free to e-mail me for missing
pieces.

~

                      "Part Four: Circles"

            //What kind of love is this that keeps me
                           hanging on
              Despite everything it's doing to me?
             What is this love that keeps me coming
                          back for more
               When it will only end in misery?//
                   -"Circle", Sarah McLachlan

     Falling into the soft mat of grass and violets, Buffy breathed
deeply, taking in the sweet scent. She let herself hit the ground
hard, not bothering to try and break her fall. Whatever abuse her
body took from the ground, it would heal. And after lying like that
to Giles, she deserved whatever pain came.
     Her chest heaved with the deep breaths she took as she kept
breathing in the air, wishing somewhere outside her consciousness
that what Giles had told her about this was true-- except she
wanted for the faeries to decide to come back here, come back and
take away her pain. Or for the fragrance of their flowers to purify
her.
     To be clean, free of this aching desperation, that was what
she wanted. All she wanted. To be able to make herself forget all
the wrongs she'd done to those she loved. Forget how she'd
selfishly caused the act that had stolen Angel's soul, forget how
she hadn't been able to defend Ms. Calendar from the demon, forget
how she'd driven Xander to lying to her by being too weak to kill
Angelus before everything came to a grinding halt the summer
before. Forget that she had failed to save all of them from the
horrific results of calling themselves her friends. They had all
counted on her, and the only thing she had done in return was make
her life one gigantic cop-out.
     She smiled bitterly, the flowers tickling her skin as she
curled into them, still facing the ground.
     While the rest of them had been desperately struggling to save
the world, she had been content to be the good guys' "secret
weapon", sitting back until the situation went too far and there
was nothing more to do but explode on all the universe with her
fear and her vengeance, lashing out at everything around her just
to keep it all from falling to pieces in her wake.
     She still had herself, she had told herself, those nights when
she had been on the road and running. Too soon had come the
realization that all she amounted to was a tight knot of pain and
denial. Always hurting, always seeking shelter, ready to accept
help from anyone so long as they didn't ask for anything back and
gave her no more than a meal or a place to stay for the night. By
the time Angel had found her, she hadn't been able to put up a
fight, and she'd had to let him bring her back to Sunnydale.
     Some Slayer she was, she thought ruefully. Pathetic. First she
ran from her duty, now she was defying her Watcher for the first
time ever, fleeing to a faerie circle in the hopes that someone
from a dream might come and heal her. She laughed a little, to
herself, at that thought. She was waiting, then. Was this faith? It
had been so long since she'd had it, perhaps she was mistaking the
feelings of expectation for something more than what they actually
were.
     Her lips slid easily into a practiced frown, her brow
furrowing. Pushing herself up until she was sitting, her knees
curled up to her chest and she let her chin rest upon them. Slowly,
gently, she closed her eyes and used her ankles to push herself up
and create leverage, using it to rock herself gently, back and
forth. Back and forth. Evenly, in time to the sounds of the river
water lapping at the banks.
     Half a mile upstream was the cottage. She and Giles had found
the faerie circle on a hike one day, following the edge of the
water. Giles had kept up a steady stream of information,
enlightening Buffy as to the world around them. Which trees had
magical properties, which ones she could use to create more potent
devices for battling vampires. He had pointed out several herbs, as
well. Wolfsbane, Buffy remembered suddenly. He had said there was
a patch of Bella Donna, but that had been back up the river toward
the cottage.
     The memory failed to move her. It simply gave her something
new to think about as she sat, rocking. Absently, as though it were
simply an abstract concept, Buffy wondered how long it would take
Giles to find her. He was in good shape, she knew from countless
sparring sessions, and though he couldn't match her speed when she
ran her fastest, it wouldn't take him more than a few minutes to
run half a mile. If he ran. Of course, she thought, maybe he
wouldn't run. Maybe he had finally given up on her, maybe he was
sitting back at the cottage glad she had left and he was through
with her. She wouldn't blame her, if he gave up. Hadn't her mother
done the same thing? She was a difficult person to be around,
that's what most of the adults in her life thought of her...why not
Giles, too? She had probably pushed him the hardest of all of them.
     She swallowed, biting back on a sudden sob that rose in her
throat, but the action couldn't push away the thoughts. She was a
failure. That was part of the reason they had come out here, wasn't
it? Because she couldn't heal herself, because she was too damn
weak to make herself do what she was supposed to do. Too weak to
kill vampires, too weak to talk to the one that had hurt her the
most. And she was worthless as far as doing anything else was
concerned, she knew, because why else would the Network let her
leave the Hellmouth? If it wasn't for the fact that Kendra was
dead-- something else Buffy had been responsible for, she thought
bitterly-- they probably would have dropped her a long time ago.
     Hardly aware of the tears that were rolling down her cheeks,
Buffy curled up tighter, her arms hugging her knees tightly. She'd
been such a stupid little fool, and while that had served her
purposes fine back in Los Angeles, a lifetime ago, these days all
it did was hurt people and get them killed.
     She was shaking hard, the violets around her hardly a part of
her awareness, her tears falling the way they had wanted to for so
many months. She was helpless, hopeless. *Never gonna heal.
Nevergonnafeelwhole.* Empty, she'd always be empty, because she
couldn't do what she was supposed to do and the end of the world
would come before she ever recovered from everything she had been
put through.
     She lost all sense of time before she felt footsteps coming
close, someone reaching down toward her. She jerked away, not
wanting to feel Giles' touch, not wanting to have to face the fact
that he might not have forsaken her after all. Nobody could be that
forgiving, nobody could care that much. Curling up tighter, trying
to fold in on herself, Buffy felt the hand fall on her shoulder.
"Get away," she whispered.
     But he didn't move away, and his hand stayed on her shoulder.
"Come with me, young Slayer," said a voice that didn't belong to
her Watcher.
     Feeling her tears slow, Buffy wiped at her eyes, turning
toward the voice as she realized it didn't belong to Giles.
"Who..." she began, before her eyes met with two bright, warm,
yellow-irises.
     She swallowed, pulling away and staring as she pushed herself
to her feet. The man who stood before her wasn't her Watcher, not
by a long shot. Her eyes widened slightly as she glanced over him
and she realized his sleek, muscled body wasn't sporting a shred of
clothing. Quickly averting her eyes, Buffy managed a slight,
nervous chuckle. "Uh, hey," she said softly, her voice cracking
from the tears she had shed.
     The Garou was watching her, carefully, and Buffy could feel
the heat of his eyes on her even though she wasn't looking at him.
From the quick glimpse she'd had of him before looking away, she
knew that nothing about him betrayed the least embarrassment or
shame.
     Giles. Her mind clicked into operation with the thought of
that one word, and she thought about what he had told her. That she
was in danger, that the slightest mis-movement could lead to her
getting hurt or worse.
     "I put you ill-at-ease."
     She looked up at the voice, a rich one, full of life. Her eyes
met with his immediately, and she was instantly aware of how the
bright orbs seemed so alive, more so than she had thought possible.
"I..." she said softly. "My dreams."
     He smiled slightly, a kind smile. Buffy found herself
wondering what it was about these people that Giles had felt it
necessary to warn her from. It didn't seem as though she had
anything to worry about, not from the way this one was behaving.
With a nod, the Garou seemed to be confirming what she and Giles
had suspected-- that the dreams she'd been having were a direct
result of his manipulations.
     "One is coming," the Garou said, turning his head slightly to
look back into the woods. "We must not let time be wasted."
     "What--" Buffy began, but a single look from the Garou
silenced her. She took a step backward as he moved toward her, her
earlier tears all but forgotten and her entire mentality caught up
in what was going on around her. The air had stilled, somehow, as
happened before a thunderstorm.
     Or, she thought, her unease increasing, like prior to a
hurricane.
     "He is coming," the Garou said with increased urgency. "Permit
me entrance?"
     He was looking at the edges of the faerie circle, Buffy
realized. She glanced back at him, wondering suddenly if it was the
same for werewolves and faerie circles as it was for vampires and
buildings. She felt a chill rush through her as the thought struck
her, and opened her mouth, intending to refuse the request.
     "Permitted," she heard herself say instead, in a short,
clipped tone. The Garou nodded and took steps into the circle, even
as Buffy's eyes widen with surprise at what she had said.
     As he crossed the boundary of flowers, the Garou seemed to
shimmer, his form shifting. Suddenly, instead of the human form she
had faced a few moments ago, Buffy found herself staring into the
yellow-slitted eyes of a large grey wolf. And yet, somehow, it was
not a wolf, and she could still see the hints of the Garou-man in
the way the beast's tongue lolled out at her when it grinned up.
     Coyote, she thought, her mind flashing back to one of the
times Giles had sat up with her in front of the fireplace when she
couldn't sleep because of the dreams. Telling her about Coyote, the
trickster of Native American legends, the wise one. It was funny,
when she actually paid attention to Giles' lectures, she learned
enough so they could carry on coherent conversations.
     Giles, she thought, pain eking through the remembrance of what
she had done, and then she pushed the thoughts aside in favor of
the Garou-beast. It was no coyote, and yet it still had the air of
good humor and trickery about it.
     It padded over to her, nuzzling at her ankles slightly,
looking upward at her. Buffy quickly lowered herself to its level,
so that she was no longer looking down on it. Him. She found
herself confused as to what to think of it as.
     Sef, came a thought, clear and simple in her mind. Yesterday.
A name, Buffy realized, though she hadn't heard the Garou speak
aloud. Just as easily as the first, a second concept rose into her
thoughts, and she nodded to the Garou-beast. She would follow him.
Though she wondered, looking around, where it was she was to follow
him to. She cast another look back at the lupine, realizing when
she did that it had already begun to move away.
     "Wait," she called out.
     The beast stopped, turned back to her, waited as she stood and
followed it quickly. When she reached its side, the Garou-beast
began to move again, and this time Buffy stayed close behind. Why
she wasn't questioning this, she had no idea. And yet, something
deep within her was telling her she could do this, she could trust
Sef enough to follow him, for now if not for longer.
     No other thoughts entered her head as she moved silently
through the forest, away from the faerie circle.
                                *
     It was empty. Giles breathed deeply, his chest drawing the air
in as quickly as it could. He had kept in shape by training Buffy,
but that in no way meant he was any sort of match for her,
physically. The half-mile run had him thoroughly winded, and now he
was here at the circle and it was empty. He had been so sure she
would come here...
     He moved forward, as though by approaching the place he could
somehow make her appear. He let second after second pass, refusing
to believe he could have lost her as he had almost let himself
refuse to believe she might have left the cottage in the first
place. When he reached the center of the faerie circle, he saw an
area where the flowers had been crushed beneath someone's body,
where a small lump of a person had curled up in them, and he felt
his heart catch in his throat. Then she had been here, and had
simply moved on.
     Scanning the edges of the circle, Giles caught sight of a few
broken flower stems leading in from the woods opposite the circle,
on the side of the clearing that led even further from the house.
     He moved quickly, past a toppled tree until he saw what lay in
the dirt that was beneath it.
     Wolf tracks.
     Feeling a shudder rip through his body, Giles ignored the
screams of his protesting lungs and muscles, and began running
again, moving as quickly as he could, praying he wouldn't
inadvertently alert the Garou to his pursuit at the same time he
knew such prayers would be useless.

~

Comments to [e-mail], please!

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

Date: Thu, 13 Aug 1998 14:54:34 PDT
From: "Leslie S." <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: It was a Dark and Stormy Night...

TITLE: It was a Dark and Stormy Night Or What Really Happened to
Willow's Barbie (1/1)
AUTHOR: LilS, Tay, Kira, Stinger, Shalona
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
DISTRIBUTION: Who would possibly want it?  I would fear them!
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: Willow finally decides it time that Barbie came home
DISCLAIMER: All characters are borrowed from Joss Whedon and crew.  No
infringement is intended.
FEEDBACK: Usually a good thing, feared in this case!

NOTE:  This little ditty (Round Robin) is a "badfic"   A really BAD
badfic!  It was spawned one evening due to the fact that our real-time
on-line Buffy role playing group was short a few players for our most
recent attempt!  Hence this travesty of literature was spawned!!!

If you are interested in Buffy chat or want more info on joining our
role-playing group, please check out
http://www.geocities.com/SouthBeach/Shores/4145/

{{Anything enclosed like this indicates comments from the peanut
gallery}}

*****

It was a dark and stormy night.  Exactly the kind of night that made
Willow very nervous. She was particularly afraid this night since the
thunder was very thunderous.  She hated storms so much because when she
was five years old

As she tried to sleep, the wind howled past her window and the birch
tree outside the downstairs window made the scrrrr-rap-rap-rap that
scared the begeezus out of most kids her age.

Her mood wasn't helped by the fact that little Xander Harris had stolen
her Stormy Weather Barbie (with detachable umbrella accessory) that
morning.  The little thief had sneaked in her dollhouse and kidnapped
her, and she couldn't sleep without her favorite Barbie...she had to get
her back

Willow looked at her fish tank and discussed a plan, gathering all her
courage to retrieve her favorite doll in hopes of getting some sleep
that night...after all a 5 year old needs sleep.

That's when she realized that she had forgotten to feed her fish....for
the last week. Paul, Ringo, John, and Bob were floating on top if the
water.  She screamed out loud as a loud thunder clap sounded shattering
the tank and sending her beloved fish sprawling all over the floor.

It was the same kind of storm as was brewing right now,  and she was
scared.  Willow thought momentarily about her fish, Eric, Eric, Eric,
and Frank (they looked a lot alike) and gave herself a little reminder
to feed them when she got home.

Suddenly the cloud broke open like a bloated radiator hose and drenched
Sunnydale, and our heroine Willow, with a stiff sheet of rain.  Thunder
clapped and lighting turned her block into a bad disco revival night at
the Bronze for a second as she sprinted up the stairs to her house.
Digging into her pocket, she fished (literally) out her keys and was
about to open her door when slipped backwards and feel down the stairs
into a rather large muddy puddle...now soaking her and her books.

As the thunder clapped again she jumped to her feet running back to the
door and managing to get it open.  Walking in the door she left muddy
foot prints down the hall as she ran to feed Eric, Eric, Eric, and Frank
thinking they might be dead...her memories of being 5 strong in her
mind's eye

When she got to her fish tank, she was relieved to discover that at
first glance Eric, Eric, Eric and Frank were indeed just fine. As she
started sprinkling in some fish flakes she started reminiscing about her
beloved Barbie.  She then realized that she never managed to pull off
her rescue efforts.  The incident with Paul, Ringo, John, and Bob left
her just a shell of the girl she once was.  She then realized that had
it not been for Xander, she might actually have managed to be popular
and outgoing.  Instead, she was reduced to being meek and mousey.

{{aint that a stab in the heart}}

But as thunder struck, she realized what she had to do.  Xander must
die!

So with that thought in mind, she climbed into her jammies and decided
that she had to do this in a very methodical manner.....but, as she just
started her planning, she sniffed at the air.....something foul smelling
was in the air and it was coming from the fish tank...

She strolled back over to the fish tank and discovered that the water
hadn't been changed in over a month.....PeeYew!

Willow pulled a small fan out of the closet and turned it on to try and
get the air circulating...not to mention got the Lysol out of the
bathroom to kill a bit of the smell.  But as another crack of thunder
shook the windows, she reconsidered...killing Xander is a little harsh.
But damn it, she was gonna get that Barbie back!  Tonight!!

Willow made her way to Xander's house.  She was gonna settle this once
and for all!

Meanwhile....at Xander'sàà.

Xander sat on the floor of his room as the storm raged outside with
Barbie in one hand and a badly dressed Ken in the other.  "Aha," he
voiced, "I have you now Buffy!  I, the evil Angel, will kill you and
drink your blood slowly."

"Oh, I don't think so, buddy," he said in a bad female voice, "I'll kick
your ass so hard that the vamps down the street will feel it!"  Xander
proceeded to mock fight Buffy-Barbie and Angel-Ken to the death.
Naturally, his savior Buffy won hands down, dusting the plastic-haired
vampire by using  the detachable umbrella accessory as a stake!

Xander reached over and grabbed a different Ken.  "Oh Buffy," he said in
his own voice, "Thank you so much for ridding the world of Angel...I
knew you always loved me."

"Yes Xander," the Buffy-Barbie said, "You always had a way to turn me
on...make love to me here, you wild man!"  Xander, sick though it may be
to say, proceeded to mock in a rather unflattering way a bit of nookie
action between Xander-Ken and Buffy-Barbie.

When Willow arrived at XanderÆs house, she let herself in the backdoor
using the spare key under the mat.  She then carefully made her way up
the stairs to Xander's Bedroom.  She carefully and quietly opened the
door just a crack, just enough to see Xander manipulating the dolls in
ways that were not humanly possible. At least not in the back of Oz's
van.  (But that is another story all together!)

Suddenly Xander had the feeling he was being watched.  He slowly turned
his head toward the door, and realized he was not alone.  His terrible
secret was no longer his alone.

Xander saw Willow peeking in the door and came to the conclusion that
Willow must die!  She can't live to spread his terrible secret!  He
reached under his bed and pulled out a baseball bat.

But then a crack of thunder brought him back to his senses.  Maybe
killing was going a little too far.

"Willow, would you like to play with us?"  Xander asked, waving the
Barbie and Ken dolls in the air.

"Play?" Willow stepped into the room, "Oh you bet I'll play."

Xander backed up slowly, "Ahhh, now Will...let's not get out of hand
here...I mean, how..how much did you see?"

"Oh wouldn't you like to know...." Willow looked downright evil in the
lightning flashes, "You'd like to know how much of your perverted game I
saw....how many years have you been doing this?  How many years have you
*used* my Barbie like that?!"

Xander stammered, "Well, like that...um, ever since I watched the Spice
Channel late one night...gulp!"

Willow grabbed her Barbie back.  "Xander!  You cut her hair!!!!! She's
ruined! For this, you must die!"

{{oh no...not again!}}

Xander gulped audibly, and said a short prayer. Meanwhile, Willow
started talking to the Barbie and stroking its hair. "Did the bad man
hurt you?"

Willow shot Xander an evil look,  She was reaching for the bat when all
of a sudden a crack of thunder and a flash of lightning brought her back
to her senses.

Willow stroked Barbie's hair gently and left Xander's house and ran back
to her own.  Now she could get a good night's sleep for the first time
in 12 years.

Meanwhile, Xander wondered how late Toys R Us was open....perhaps they
now had a dark-haired Barbie that he could use as Cordelia.....

(the end?)



****************************************************

Check out the Garden Patch (includes 3 whole fan fics I have written
plus any works in progress)
http://beavis.intercom.net/~lilsprout


______________________________________________________
Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com

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

Date: Thu, 13 Aug 1998 23:54:19 EDT
From: <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Faith" -- "Part Five: The Dreaming Tree" (5a/9)

Comments to [e-mail], as well as requests for missing pieces.

See part one for notes and disclaimers.

~


                 "Part Five: The Dreaming Tree"

         //"Daddy come quick, the dreaming tree has died
      I can't find my way home, there is no place to hide.
                  The dreaming tree has died."
                 Oh, if I had the strength to...
            Take me back, take me back, take me back
                        Save me please.//
            -"The Dreaming Tree", Dave Matthew's Band

     Crashing through the underbrush, Buffy could feel branches
whipping against her arms and legs, raising stinging welts on her
flesh. Ahead of her, the Garou-beast was still moving effortlessly
through the woods. She had been running for hours, it seemed, and
though there was no sign that she would be allowed to slow soon,
nor did she feel winded or tired.
     Suddenly, she found herself skidding to a stop, grabbing tree
branches that sliced through her palms in order to stop before she
went too far and tripped over the lupine, where it stood before
her. The look it had turned upon her was almost a lazy one, tongue
lolling out and its lips curled back in something approximating a
smile.
     Buffy swallowed, looking at the beast for a few seconds before
it turned its gaze on something else. Look, came a voice in her
mind, and she moved her gaze upward. They were on the edge of a
clearing.
     At Sef's mental command, Buffy turned her eyes further
outward, seeking substance in the shadows along the trees. She
glanced upward as storm clouds moved across the sky, then looked
back toward the ground. Her eyes traced the line of grass as it
came to crushed leaves and mud under the trees on the other side of
the clearing, and then she looked back at the lupine. What was
going on, she wanted to ask, but something in Sef's eyes, despite
the fact that his form was one of a wolf, spoke volumes. Telling
her not to speak, that all would come clear in the end.
     As she looked around, Buffy felt a chill breeze pass over her
flesh, raising goosebumps. She hugged herself, shivering slightly
and watching the Garou-beast as it took a few slow, unconcerned
steps away from where she was standing. When she moved to follow
it, it turned its head back toward her with what she could only
assume was a warning look.
     "Buffy?"
     Her eyes flew wide open as Buffy spun around toward the
direction she had come from, and she found herself standing face to
face with the demon she would never outrun, that she would never be
able to outrun. Her personal devil, but her lover as well.
     She took a step back, ignoring the sound of a low growl from
behind.
     "Buffy, don't--"
     "Get away from me," she snapped, her voice thick with anger
and tinged with fear. She took another step backward, feeling as
though something were pressing her to hold her ground, not caring
enough to do as it told.
     "Buffy," Angel said quietly, reaching out toward her, "You
don't understand, you can't--"
     She knocked his hand away with a sharp blow, her eyes flashing
angrily. "You can't tell me what I can and can't do, Angel. You're
not even supposed to come near me." Her stomach twisted with the
words, and she heard the same warning growl from behind her. From
the look on Angel's face, that expression of sadness mixed with
hope, she could tell he wasn't going to let things be.
     Fine, then, she told herself. She wasn't going to wait around
and let him lecture her, let him try and make whatever point it was
he had come to give her. She didn't care, he had to learn that. She
blinked back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her,
desperately forcing herself to stick with those thoughts. She
didn't care. He couldn't touch her.
     "_Buffy_!" she heard him shout as she turned, a moment before
he grabbed her arm and pulled her back, and she was left staring at
the place where the lupine was standing.
     She felt her heart leap into her throat, her eyes growing big
as she realized the lupine was no longer assuming an easy, carefree
posture, but rather it was snarling-- at her. Its lips were pulled
back over its canines in an expression of clear aggression, and the
hair along its back was on end. From its throat was coming a
rumbling sort of growl. Swallowing, Buffy jerked away from Angel,
determined not to let him have the satisfaction of rescuing her--
again. He had done quite enough of that.
     "Stop it," he said from behind her, his voice almost directly
in her ear.
     "Leave me al--" She broke off as the werewolf's growl
intensified, falling silent.
     "You can't...leave," Angel said softly, whispering. She could
feel his breath on her ear, and he had pulled her back against him.
"It won't let you. Not until you face yourself."
     Before her, the Garou-beast's eyes were alive with fire, and
the feeling in her mind did nothing to contradict what Angel was
telling her.
     "What..." she asked, confusion in her tone, "...what are you
talking about?"
     "Will you talk to me?"
     Buffy tossed a half-glance over her shoulder, barely able to
make out the shadow of Angel's face before she spoke. "What's going
on," she asked, her voice soft.
     She could feel Angel shake his head beside her, and she felt
herself shiver a little as his cool skin brushed against her own.
"Look for light in darkness," he whispered.
     Buffy jerked violently, and again the Garou-beast snarled at
her, but she was oblivious to the threat as she stared at Angel. It
hadn't been his voice in her dreams, but the words were the same,
how could he know her dreams?
     Angel gripped her tighter, his gaze on the Garou. "Buffy," he
said quietly, his voice giving her something akin to a warning,
"you have to believe in me."
     *"In the end, you're always by yourself. You're all you've
got. That's the _point_,"* she heard suddenly. Whistler's voice in
her mind. Her expression hardened and she pulled away slightly. "I
don't believe in anybody but me," she said quietly, almost unable
to believe she was actually saying this, to Angel of all people.
For various reasons. Not the least among them was the fact that she
had once counted on him for everything-- her emotional support, her
listening ear...she had once thought he was the only solid thing in
the world. Even over people like Giles or Willow. She felt a quake
of self-hatred inside, passionate and threatening to boil over.
What an idiot she had been.
     More important than that, perhaps, was that Angel had betrayed
her. Not of his own accord, but she had never known real pain until
waking up alone in bed, until she had realized she'd given herself
to someone who was only going to betray her.
     *And that's the problem, isn't it,* she heard in her mind, not
recognizing the voice as her own. Shocked and surprised, not to
mention a bit frightened, Buffy fixed her gaze on Angel-- barely in
time to see him fade from sight into mist.
     Her heart pounding fast in her chest, Buffy turned around to
stare at the Garou-beast before her. Her mouth hung open in clear
disbelief as the thing wagged its tail in a manner not unlike that
of a pet dog, then suddenly began to...change.
     Its form shifting, the lupine was slowly changing from the
form it had used to lead her here. It had been sitting on its hind
legs, which began to elongate, to stretch, as its torso moved
upward and its forelegs changed form, becoming arms. The long
muzzle slowly shortened, squashing back into the animal's face--
     --and Buffy found herself staring into the pale, blue eyes of
the vampire whose alliance she had been forced to accept in order
to send her lover to hell.
     "Spike," she whispered in disbelief. She hadn't seen hide or
tail of the british vampire since he had fled the mansion the
spring before.
     The werewolf-turned-vampire-master smiled, one of those cocky,
annoying smiles Spike had used on her when he had first knocked out
the policeman and called her "cutie". She flinched inwardly, a
shudder of disgust pulsing through her body as she remembered the
other emotions that had coincided with the relief at knowing she
wasn't going to be arrested and taken in by the Sunnydale Police
Force.
     "What...what's going on?" she asked, her voice shaking
slightly as she took a step backward.
     Spike-- the lupine?-- shook his head slightly. When he spoke,
the voice was that of the vampire master she had fought against,
fought with. "You need to 'eal, Slayer," he said, his features
shifting from the smirk to an expression filled more with genuine
concern than anything else. Staring, Buffy found it difficult to
believe that the man she was looking at held the same form as the
one she had banished from Sunnydale. "Too damn 'ung up on what that
bloody demon said, not 'avin' faith in anybody else."
     She glared at him bitterly. "You're not the one I would take
advice from," she snapped.
     Spike shrugged, and with the motion the leather jacket he had
worn seemed to fall away into nothingness, or perhaps it too just
shifted form-- and took along with it the appearance of the master
himself. Buffy was now looking at Angel, mournful and hurt. "You
never trusted me, Buffy," he said softly.

~
More to Come
~

Comments to [e-mail], please.

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

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