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buffyfic-digest      Thursday, December 10 1998      Volume 02 : Number 392



In this issue:

       BUFFYFIC: The Wish Before [A Wish Fic] (1/1)
       BUFFYFIC: Torn (4/?)
       BUFFYFIC: Twilight (next chapter)

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: Wed, 9 Dec 1998 17:48:42 EST
From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Wish Before [A Wish Fic] (1/1)

TITLE: The Wish Before
AUTHOR: Shadows
DISTRIBUTION: E-mail me at [e-mail] for permission.
DISCLAIMER: I own Jeanine and Mark Craiven. Guess who owns teh rest? (J.W.)
NOTE: This is a short ltitle fic that takes place during "The Wish." I thought
it up about five seconds after watching teh show. I think it's kinda ok.
SPOILERS: THE WISH
Feedback: Is so very wanted and appreciate, bad or good. Oh PUH-LEASE?, some
feedback?

"The Wish Before" -- A Wish Fic


At first glance, Jeanine Traylis had thought the new
girl, Anya, was just another rich, snobby, stuck-up
little thing like Harmony Hunter and the rest of those
high-class twits.

That was at first glance.

At *second* glance, Jeanine stopped dead in her tracks.
In no way had she ever thought she would cross paths
with the Patron Diety of Scorned Women again, not after
that little episode back in Friendship, Maine.

Jeanine had ducked back into the girls bathroom and
spent a good five minutes calming herself down and
thinking about what she had just seen. Anya was here for
either two reasons, and only one reason she liked--Anya
was here to grant another scorned woman one of her
wishes. But who was that woman? Certainly not her.
Jeanine was has happy as could be.

Months ago, in her home reality, a man named Mark
Craiven had cornered her at the local club, Silver Fire,
the place where all the popular students hung. He had
totally freaked her out, saying that she was "the
Slayer, the Chosen One, one girl in all the world who
was born with the power and strength to defeat the
vampires and stop the spread of their evil." After
hearng that, Jeanine had walked out, dismissing the
creepy Brit in tweed as a mental case, one that needed
to be locked up pronto.

But he followed her into the dark alley behind the club
(it's included in all blueprints of clubs around
America), and that's when she started to really get
scared. Not because this Mark Craiven guy seemed to be
stalking her, though. No, she was scared when monster
with major need of a plastic surgeon and a really good
dentist jumped out of the shadows and attacked her.

Since she was a black belt in Tae-Kwon-Do and she was
cornered anyway, she fought back quite well, only
realizing after awhile that her pathetic moves weren't
keeping any of the vampires at bay. Then Mark had pulled
out a wooden stick and thrust it into one of the
vampires' heart. Right before Jeanine's eyes, it turned
to dust.

"Don't you see?" Mark had told her after the vampires
had fled in fear. "Don't you see what needs to be done?"

So of course, after that spectacle, Jeanine came to
accept that she was indeed the Slayer. She had trained,
she had fought, she had won, she had lost. And she was
miserable all the time in doing it.

No friends, almost no family, and no life. Jeanine was
depressed, sad, and above all, scornful. She hated her
life as she knew it.

And then one day, Jeanine had locked herself in a school
bathroom stall and started to cry. She heard a knock on
her stall door, and when she opened it, she saw Anya. At
first she was wary of her, but the girl had seemed to
genuine about wanting to help her with what was
bothering her. So Jeanine told he everything, every
insane and wacky detail, expecting Anya to call the
little men in white to come and pick her up.

But no, Anya had confessed *her* big secret, and after
Jeanine got after the initial shock ("diet of *what*?"),
Anya had told her to make a wish. So Jeanine did,
closing her eyes real tight and wishing that she had
never been the Slayer, and that some other girl had the
job.

Only seconds later, Jeanine had been transported to
nice, friendly, and safe Sunnydale, CA. She had friends,
family, a boyfriend, a car, and overall, a life. She was
happy in this dimension--no longer was she faced with
her Slayer fate. She was living her dream--to be a
normal, teenage girl, who talked all day about boys and
clothes and the occasional homework.

So the other reason was that Anya was here to take back
Jeanine's wish, returning her back to her old life. And
Jeanine would rather die then go back to that living
hell.

Well, if she was going to find out which one, she sure
as heck wasn't going to find it in the bathroom. If
lightning rarely struck in the same place twice, she
doubted that the Patron Diety of Scorned Women was any
different. So Jeanine pulled herself together and walked
back out to her locker.

Just her luck: only a few lockers down stood Anya,
listening to a girl who's back was turned to Jeanine.
Who was that mystery girl? Jeanine took a deep breath,
and walked slowly past the girls, sticking close to the
other side of the lockered hall.

The mystery girl was Cordelia Chase, recent leftover of
her relationship with Xander Harris, the Loser of the
School if there ever was one (although Jeanine was not
one to judge). She held great pity for Cordelia: her
father, who worked at Sunnydale General, had given her
surgery after she was impaled. "What was she doing in
that factory, anyway?" her father had asked over the
dinner table, after ruining the family meal by telling
all the gruesome details of teh operation.

Suddenly, it clicked it Jeanine's mind. Anya was here to
grant a scorned Cordelia's wish. What a relief!

A small smile tugged at the corners of Jeanine's lips as
she continued down the hall, looking back only once to
check out the girl and the deity once more. She was
happy for Cordelia: although the break-up was hard, she
hoped that Cordelia would be happy with Anya's gift.

She only wondered, though . . .

What would Cordelia wish?

- -----

Someone who replyed to this story's post on the SlayerFanFic Archive's board
said that since Giles destroyed Anya's powers, all her granted wishes would
come undone. Hmm . . .
~Shadows~

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

Date: Wed, 9 Dec 1998 22:27:07 EST
From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Torn (4/?)

TITLE: Torn
AUTHOR: Danielle Loughlin
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK: Why, thank you, I'd love some!
DISTRIBUTION: my site. Anyone else, please ask. I will say yes, I just like to
know where my work is going.
SUMMARY: Willow is forced to choose between Xander and Oz, but neither Oz nor
Xander are willing to let Willow go
SPOILERS: through Lover's Walk
RATING: PG for this part.
DISCLAIMER: Willow, Oz, Xander, and the rest of Buffy & Co. are not mine. They
belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Twentieth Century Fox, etc. I'm just
borrowing them to alleviate my boredom and I'll try to return them with as few
dents as possible.

Torn
Part Four


Xander was changing into pajamas for the night when all of a sudden his door
flew open with a bang. He yelped in surprise and hurriedly yanked the T-shirt
over his head, thanking God he'd already gotten pants on.

"Geez, Wills, come on in why don't you?" Xander said.

"You know what, Xander Harris? This is all your fault!" Willow burst out.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait. What is all my fault? And why does it always seem
like it's my fault?!" Xander replied.

"I have the best guy in the world," Willow started. "And he loves me and he
cares about me and he always has, and I should be able to be with that guy
without a doubt in my heart. But I can't! Because of you!"

Xander didn't say anything, not quite sure where Willow was heading with this.

"I have been in love with you for so long," Willow said. "I don't know how not
to be in love with you. But it was like, okay, fine, I can deal with that. But
then, then, we had to go and kiss? That was so not fair!"

"Hey, I didn't just kiss you, you kissed me too!" Xander said defensively.
"Might I remind you of the library . . and who was the jumpee there?"

"I know," Willow said. "I messed up too. I know that. I totally know that. But
I can't just write it off as a mistake and tell Oz it will never happen again.
Because I can't promise him that. Do you know what it feels like to be so in
love with one guy but also not be able to get another guy out of your head?"

"Yeah, actually, I do," Xander supplied. "Ever since the Homecoming dance, I
was with Cordelia, but I would always be thinking of you in the back of my
head. I could kiss her, and I was feeling so guilty because I was thinking of
*you*. I felt like I was cheating on *you*, when in actuality, I was cheating
on Cordy. I had it all backwards! But you know what, I finally figured it
out."

"Figured what out?" Willow asked.

"That I love you."

Willow gasped and noticeably paled. "No, Xander. You can't, you can't love
me."

"But I do! Will . . I know I shouldn't. But I do. I know I do and I know I'm
right because this feels so right." Xander stepped forward and grabbed
Willow's hands in his own. "And I think you love me too."

"I love Oz," Willow said weakly. "You, you can't do this, Xander. You can't
decide you love me all of a sudden. Love takes time."

"Willow, we've had twelve years," Xander said. "How much more time do we
need?"

"And in those twelve years, do you know how badly I wanted to hear you say you
loved me? Do you know much I wanted you to wake up and get a clue and stop
seeing me as just Willow, your best friend? And now you have . . . and I wish
you hadn't," Willow said. "Oz has cared about me from the very beginning. He
said I was the only one for him the second he saw me. But you . . you suddenly
decide now that you love me, and you expect me to jump into your arms and
forget Oz and we live happily ever after? That's not fair Xander. You know
that."

Xander wanted to punch the wall in frustration. This was going all wrong. This
wasn't how he imagined telling Willow how he finally felt about her. He'd been
thinking roses and slow dancing, not rumpled boxers in the middle of his
bedroom with Willow in her jacket and upset with him. But the setting didn't
matter . . what mattered was that Willow had to realize he was telling the
truth . . she had to realize how much he loved her. How much he always had, he
just never acknowledged it until recently.

"I know it's not fair, Willow, I'm sorry. I don't want to do this to you. But
I had to tell you. And you have got to know how much I love you. I know these
last few weeks, nothing has made much sense. But *we* make sense Willow. We
work. Don't you want that?"

Willow regarded him for a few seconds. "I don't know what I want," she said
sadly. She tried to take her hands out of Xander's but he hung on. He leaned
forward to kiss her, to try to show her how he felt.

Willow turned away. "No, Xander, no kissing," she protested. "Because them I'm
gonna think with my heart and not my head and I'll make the wrong decision."

"Will, I think this is a decision that your heart makes," Xander said. "Love
isn't something you think about. You're right, you don't just decide to love a
person. It's from deep inside. You *know* when you love a person. And you have
no control over it. You just *know*. Willow. I know I love you."

Willow swallowed, trying to hold back the tears. " I don't know what to do,"
she whispered.

"Yeah, you do, Wills," Xander said. "You've always known."

*****

Willow let out a soft sob. He was right. She'd always known.

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed Xander softly on the lips. She knew it was
going to be the last time she kissed him for a long, long time. "I'm sorry,"
she whispered, stepping back and removing her hands from Xander's.

Xander looked at her with stricken eyes. "Sorry?"

"I'm so sorry," Willow said. "I do know who I love. I don't think it's you."
Willow turned and fled Xander's room, leaving a stunned Xander in her wake.

End Part Four

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

Date: Thu, 10 Dec 1998 22:48:12 EST
From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Twilight (next chapter)

TITLE: Twilight
AUTHOR: Shadows
DISTRIBUTION: Do not let me story go neglected. If you have one of those
archives, can I please put my little story on your page?
DISCLAIMER: None of teh characters in my story belong to me. I was running low
on creative inspiration when this story was brought forth from my mind.
NOTE: This story's almost done . . . maybe one more chapter, or two more. i
haven't decided yet, though I *do* know the ending, and I think it's gonna be
a shocker . . . and in regard to feedback: always wanted, always needed, and
always appreciated, expecially flaming e-mail, because I want to fix my story
of all it's ltitle bugs so that in teh end, it comes out good.
 But the good ones are great too! For awhile, I thought the story was
straggeling . . . but then I got my first feedback, and it was good, and I was
happy, and I wrote. So . . . here we go.
 Also . . . I speak Spanish, I understand Spanish, but I can neither write nor
read in Spanish, but I did anyway, so, um, if it has errors, you know why, and
send me an e-mail as to how it should be spelled!




Twilight (next chapter)


    Giles had already moved some of his stuff back in here, and among other
things, a large clock sat on his desk. It's hands crept across it's face, and
it groaned and creaked with age. And in keeping the time . . . *tick-tick-
tick, TOCK*. That annoying sound was magnified dozens of times with Xander's
new, ultra-sensitive, preternatural hearing. And it only made it worse that it
was the only sound in the still, silent room.

    Xander sat in the office chair, looking at the large, Styrofoam cup that
rested far on the other corner of the desk, full to the capped brim with
animal blood from the butcher's. Buffy said that's where Angel had gotten his
blood, and sometimes Buffy had got it for him, so that's why she knew where to
go. She also had mentioned that it would be cold, so it "might not taste as
good, or, uh, however it's suppose to taste." Xander had grunted and shrugged,
and Buffy had then left.

    Now Xander and the cup were playing the timeless tradition of the staring-
down game, except the cup had no eyes. So this game was going to go one
forever, and ever, and ever . . .

    But he was so hungry! As much as Xander detested the thought, this was the
only thing that could calm his hunger pains. Animal blood. And he was NEVER
going to drink human blood, although the vampire-demon voice that whispered in
his head told him that it was the most delicious thing in this world . . .

    His stomach growled hungrily, and Xander groaned. The thought turned his
stomach, but there was nothing else. He used to think food left him empty, but
he had never really known what it was like to be REALLY hungry-mentally and
physically. Now he did, and it was agonizing.

    <Drink it> said the vampire-demon. <Drink it. It's good.>

    Hesitantly, more afraid of disobeying the demon than drinking the blood,
Xander took the cup in his hand and peeled off the cover. An aroma drafted
upwards into his nose, one that was tantalizing and revolting at the same
time. Blood had never *smelled* before. But now it was like-

    He held it to his lips, the rim of the cup touching the satiny folds. He
stayed in that position for awhile, and then, throwing caution to the wind, he
chugged down a gulp of the stuff.

    And spit it right back out.

    "EW!" Xander yelled, standing up and tossing the cup away, having it spill
its contents all over the carpet and the book that had been resting in his
lap. Xander used his free hands to wipe the remains off his lips and chins,
and even went so far as to scrape his tongue.

    "ECCH!" Xander yelled again for good measure, and then glared at the
spreading blood stain, not making a move to clean it up. No wonder vampires
drank from human victims. That animals blood was cold and disgusting. "Ecch,"
he repeated, a little quieter.

    When he finished making disgusted faces and wiping himself clean, he looked
down at the book that lay on the floor, now covered completely in blood. It
was opened to a completely different page, and for some reason Xander knelt
down beside it and started to read avidly.

    As he read the page, his eyes began to widen in dread. He yanked the book
closer to him peering at the pages as to make sure if he was reading the text
right. Realizing that he was, he stood up straight, his nerves all shot. He
strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

    "We have go!" he yelled to the persons in the room. Willow and Oz woke up to
look at him with quizzical expressions. "We have to go! I know where Angel's
going!"

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

    "No, Roberto, no! No puede sed, no puede sed . . . que paso a ti? Que paso?"

    The sobbing of Roberto's mistress from Spain was interrupted by the loud
sound of Cordelia sneezing into her tissue. "ACHOO!" she thundered for the
millionth time that night, or as it seemed to her. This flu had been going on
forever, although now it was nothing more than a little cold. But Cordelia had
refused to go to school looking so gross, and so her parents, who practically
let her get away with anything, let her get away with not going.

    The sneezing done, Cordelia looked back up at the television screen, where Yo
Vive Para Elena was playing on Telemundo. "Spanish soap operas-why?" Cordelia
mused, sniffing and wiping her nose with the tissue again.

    She picked up the remote and switched channels just as Roberto's mistress
flung a really fake-looking book at the wall behind him. "BO-ring," Cordelia
said, checking out what was on all the other 107 channels.

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

    Cordelia had brains-they had to give her that. But did she have to remember
to lock her door tonight, of all nights? Tonight when Angelus would surely
come after her.

    "The book says he *always* comes after . . . well, you know, what Cordelia is
to me, because of what I did to him. And the last thing we want is to find
Cordelia's gutted body hanging from the school's *flagpole* or something, ok?
At least I don't."

    Xander did the talking thing as Buffy vainly tried to bust down the door to
Cordelia's house. "What is this thing *built* out of?" she grunted as she
rammed into it for the final time.

    After that try, Buffy stepped back and sighed, exasperated. "The door's not
coming down. I guess we'll have to climb in through the windows or something."
Buffy looked up at the Chase house, all the way up to the third floor. "This
could be hard."

    "Um, can I try?" Everybody looked at Willow questioningly, but she just
shrugged, embarrassed, and walked up to the door. She bent down, peered into
the keyhole, and then pulled a hairpin out of her hair. After some careful
deliberation, she jammed the hair pin in and turned the makeshift "key", the
result being a satisfying click.

    "I'm not limited to hacking *just* on the computer," Willow told her stunned
audience. Then she jerked her head towards the door, which was slowly creeping
open from the weight. "Coming?"

    Buffy shrugged and went on in. Oz quickly followed, grabbing on to Willow's
hand for comfort and amazed at yet another little secret Willow had surprised
him with since they started to go together. Xander sighed, stuffed his hands
in his pockets, and followed them.

    And as he entered the doorway, he yelped in surprise as he was pushed back by
some strong, invisible force.

    "CRAP!" he yelled in frustration, beating at the invisible wall with his
fists. The Scooby Gang turned around to see what was going on.

    Willow's mouth formed into a "what," but Xander answered her question before
she spoke. "I'm not in*vi*ted," he said, growling under his breath.

    Buffy groaned-yet another setback-and rolled her eyes up to the sky, asking
God to make this just a *little* bit more difficult for the lot of them.
Willow bit down hard on her lip and gave out a little yip of pain. Oz stood
there, trying to think of a solution.

    That's when they heard the tiny, muffled scream from upstairs.

    "Screw the front door!" Xander yelled as he heard the scream. He hit the
floor running as he jumped off the porch and ran across the yard, heading for
the side of house where Cordelia's bedroom was located, on the second floor.

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

    She had been so engrossed in watching Friends that Cordelia hadn't noticed
the scratching at her window until it became a series of loud scrapes. Then
she satisfied herself by saying outloud that they were just the branches of
the oak outside her window against her windowpane . . . yeah, except there was
no wind. So Cordelia got up, looked out the window, and then deciding she
needed a better view, opened it up and peered outside.

    Bad, bad, *bad* move that should not be practiced at *all* on the Hellmouth.
As soon as Cordelia was half out of the window someone grabbed her by the
waist and yanked her out of her room altogether. She had a short time to yelp
before a strong, cold hand covered her mouth and plunked her down into the
recesses of the big, leafy tree branches.

    And then she and her captor were falling, falling two stories, her captor
possibly landing on two feet because that's how they ended up, and Cordelia
did not jump like a cat. When they stopped swaying and Cordelia regained the
feeling in her numbed mind, she opened her eyes.

    She was really surprised to see who stood in front of her-Xander. He was
looking past her at the one who held her, and when Cordelia tried to turn
around and see who it was, the hand that wasn't around her mouth reached out
and held her neck in place. "Don't you move now," said the voice of her
captor, his-hers?-its?-nose tickling the inside of her ear.

    Angelus turned to look towards Xander, who was practically shaking with
anger. Angelus wiggled his eyebrows and, unbeknownst to Cordelia, began to
sink his fangs towards her neck . . .

    "You *dare* and I *swear* you're dust," Xander spat out, his knuckles, being
clenched so hard, turned a bright pink-a contrast against his extremely white
skin.

    Cordelia's fear escalated as her captor chuckled softly in her ear. "But
she's so tasty . . ." it whispered, and then there was the rushing sound of
air as whatever it was snapped it's teeth.

    Wait . . . now she remembered the voice. "Ohmigod!" Cordelia cried, realizing
that Angel was the one who was holding her.

    "Don't make me fight you," Xander warned, his voice and manner testy.

    Cordelia began to whimper. She was being kidnapped by *Angel* and *Xander*
had come to her rescue. They might as well have left Cordelia to fend for
herself. She was doomed.

    "I'm doomed," she said aloud.

    Angel chuckled. "There's only one way . . ." he said, taking his hand away
from her mouth and tracing it along her neck. His eyes watched every invisible
line that he drew. Then he turned back to Xander, eyes ablaze. "Fight me as
what you are. Then we'll see if she can go."

    Cordelia looked at Xander with confused eyes as suddenly he clammed up and
concentrated on the ground. When he looked back up, he said resolutely. "Ok."
And before the eyes of his girlfriend, he *changed.*

    Cordelia's eyes widened in horror at the knowledge of being surrounded by
*two* vampires. "Oh my god!" she said, her voice rising higher. "You have GOT
to be kidding me!

End of this chapter. I can't wait to write the last part . . .
~Shadows~

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

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