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buffyfic-digest        Monday, January 18 1999        Volume 03 : Number 023



In this issue:

       BUFFYFIC: Best Intentions, (11/18)
       BUFFYFIC: After the Fire
       BUFFYFIC: Can't Hide the Past (4c/?)

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.

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Date: Sun, 17 Jan 1999 10:39:59 PST
From: "Andrea Newbery" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Best Intentions, (11/18)

Title: Best Intentions
Author: Andrea
e-mail: [e-mail]
disclaimer: These characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant
Enemy, the WB, etc. They are not mine.
spoilers: Everything up to the end of season two.
distribution: Sure, just let me know.
rating: PG-13, I think. There's a little swearing in this part.
summary: Xander/Cordelia. This fic is set in the same timeline as
Christine's amazing story, 'The Wildest Times in the World' although
technically this story takes place before that one. If you haven't read
it, e-mail me and I'll send it to you.
Feedback: Please. Good, bad, anything.
Thanks to Christine, for writing the story that started this, and for
helping me when I got stuck and for thinking up the title. And there's
still more I could thank you for. :)



August 3, 2006

Xander drove aimlessly around town, the knowledge that Cordelia was
carrying his child pushing out all other rational thought. He wasn't
sure if he was looking for her to talk to her or to kill her. How could
she do that to him? Sleep with him on the beach and then run away before
morning? His anger built as he realized that she had never had any
intention of telling him. If Willow hadn't figured it out, he would
never have known his child, never even have known he had a child. The
rage was almost spilling out of him when he saw her car parked in front
of a run down apartment building.

He braked hard, the tires screeching along the pavement. Jumping out of
the car he saw Cordelia exiting the building, a large suitcase in each
hand. He ran over to her, not noticing the pain in her face or the
awkward way she was walking. He was directly in front of her before she
saw him, her eyes widening as he grabbed the suitcases from her and
threw them towards her car.

"Going somewhere Cordelia?" His voice sounded frightening to his own
ears as he stared down at her.

She made a small sound, somewhere between a gasp and a moan before
trying to walk around him. He let her pass him before turning around to
speak again. "Ever plan on telling the baby about its father?"

She froze for a moment, before beginning to walk towards her car again,
her gait slow and wobbly. He caught up with her quickly, spinning her
around to face him. "It's my baby Cordelia."

She stared up at him, her eyes widening. Shaking her head she backed
away from him. "Are you crazy Xander? How could it be your baby?" Her
voice struggled to be derisive, but the shakiness was too evident.

Xander shook his head, trying to contain his anger. "Don't lie to me.
Willow figured it out."

Cordelia took a deep breath, then she spoke softly. "I'm leaving town
Xander. No one will ever know."

"I know." He screamed at her, using all his self-control to keep from
shaking her. "This is my baby too."

"Xander." She whispered his name, her voice full of pain.

"Save the wounded act Cordelia." He spat the words at her, too angry to
listen to her try and explain. "I don't know how you did it, but Willow
and Buffy are both singing your praises once again." He paced in a
circle around her unable to stand still. He stopped suddenly, his voice
cold as he interrogated her. "Was it good Cordy?" Cordelia stared at him
blankly so he asked her again. "Was it good fucking a drunk man? Did I
satisfy you? Or was the thought of  my money enough?"

"Don't." Cordelia spoke softly, but her voice held none of the fear it
had earlier. She considered him carefully before continuing. "I made
love to a man that loved me and missed me. A man who gave me more joy in
a drunken embrace than I have felt in the last five years." She walked
closer to him, and stared him straight in the eyes as she finished. "It
wasn't about money, or prestige. It was about love. I know I shouldn't
have done it, but I'm not sorry. And I won't let you make me feel guilty
for it." She turned then and walked over to where one of her suitcases
lay, bending down slowly to pick it up.

Xander watched her moving, the anger that had been leading him fading
away, leaving only sadness. He walked over to her, gently taking the
suitcase from her hand and setting it down beside her car. She said
nothing as he collected the other suitcase and brought it to sit beside
the first. Xander turned to her, looking at her for the first time
without a haze of anger surrounding him. She looked very young standing
there, her face pale and gaunt as she waited to see what he would do. He
stood transfixed, suddenly wanting to hold her in his arms and tell her
that everything would be okay. Instead he cleared his throat; Willow's
words reverberating in his head, and asked her the question he truly
feared the answer to. "Willow said you loved me. That you always loved
me. Is it true?"

Cordelia's face crumbled, the tears spilling down her cheeks as she
nodded her head. Taking deep breaths she struggled to speak, her voice
trembling. "Yes."

He closed his eyes as her affirmation washed over him, stumbling
backwards until he was leaning against her car. He stood there for a
minute unable to speak before he opened his eyes and looked at her. She
stood there, her arms wrapped around her stomach as she sobbed. Walking
over to her, he touched her arms softly and looked down at her. Speaking
carefully he asked the question he had been haunted by for the last five
years. "Why then? Why did you leave me?"

She stared up at him, her eyes full of pain, but when she spoke her
voice was calm, almost cold. "Why didn't you try and stop me?"

"Cordelia." Xander whispered, suddenly sure that no answer he could give
her would make it right. "I don't know. You seemed so different, so much
like the snob I had always hated. Like what we had didn't matter."

She sagged against him, only his hands on her arms keeping her upright.
She stared at him; her eyes pools of agony and loneliness as she pleaded
with him to make her understand. "Why did you believe me? Why didn't you
know that something was wrong?"

"What was wrong?" He asked her, knowing in his heart that he had been
mad at the wrong person all these years.

She straightened up, a look of pain crossing her face before she backed
away from him. "Just let it go Xander. It was a long time ago, and it
really doesn't matter anymore." She moved towards her suitcases, her car
keys jingling in her hand.

Xander moved towards her, angry that she could walk away. He spoke
loudly, the anger back in his voice. "Let it go? I've spent the last
five years in misery because you left me for some reason that you don't
even think matters?"

She spun around, reacting to the anger in his voice with anger of her
own. She threw her head back, her eyes glaring as she spoke calmly and
coldly. "I left you because I saw you and Buffy kissing in the
graveyard. I was a bitch because I thought it would be easier for you
and Buffy if you could be together without guilt. I did it because I
stupidly thought that you two would have a happy life. I did it because
I loved both of you so much that all I wanted was for you to be happy."

Xander stood there stunned, his stomach sinking as the depth of the
mistake he had made sunk in. How could he not have known? She had began
acting strangely on the very night he had kissed Buffy. He stepped
forward slightly, wanting to go down on his knees and beg for her
forgiveness, but he didn't know what to say. He couldn't even understand
why he had never suspected, how could he expect her to understand? So he
just watched silently, tears streaming down his face as she fumbled with
her car keys and opened the trunk.

"Cordelia?" The word was strangled through his throat, his head still
spinning. He took a tentative step toward her, not knowing what he would
say; just knowing that he couldn't let her leave without at least trying
to explain.

She was leaning against the car, not reacting to him as he moved closer,
his stomach sinking even lower. He touched her shoulder cautiously and
she moved slightly, a gasp of pain escaping her lips. He dimly heard
another car screech to a stop in front of the apartment building as
Cordelia grabbed her stomach and sunk to the ground, crying out in
agony.

"The baby." Cordelia gasped out, looking up at Xander for
help. He leaned down to pick her up, his heart beating wildly and turned
to see Willow and Buffy running towards them. He took off towards
Buffy's jeep, screaming at them to get back to the car.

He ran as fast as he could, the terror in Cordelia's eyes spurring him
on. Buffy jumped into the driver's seat as he climbed into the back with
Cordelia.

"Hospital. Fast." He choked out as he looked down at Cordelia and
realized that she was unconscious. He smoothed her hair back from her
face, whispering his love to her, promising her that everything would be
all right. He looked up once to meet Willow's worried eyes before
letting the tears flow freely.

"Oh God Willow. What did I do?" His voice was thick with guilt as he
stared at the still form in his lap. "What did I do?"

"Xander." Willow began, then stopped as she saw the look in Xander's
eyes.

Buffy drove fast towards Sunnydale General, ignoring every stop sign and
red light until she pulled up at the emergency entrance. Xander had the
door open before the car was even stopped, running into the hospital
with Cordelia in his arms. He quickly explained the situation to the
nurse and Cordelia was quickly put on a stretcher and taken away.

He stood staring down the hallway they had taken her until Buffy and
Willow came to stand beside him. They stood on either side of him,
softly supporting him as they led him over to the waiting room and sat
him down in a chair. He sat staring at the floor, until Buffy touched
his arm and spoke softly to him, her voice frightened. "Xander?"

He froze at the sound of her voice, for one moment furiously angry with
her, but it passed quickly. His voice was textured with guilt and fear
as he spoke. "She saw when we kissed. That's why she left."

"I know." Buffy answered softly, her voice sad. "I'm so sorry."

He didn't say anything after that; the fear was too pervasive to allow
him any words. Willow and Buffy sat beside him silently as the night
wore away, neither of them moving. When the first rays of dawn were just
beginning to break the nurse came to get him; her expression slightly
panicked. She took him down the long hallway explaining as they walked
that the baby was gone and that Cordelia was not taking it well.

"Where is she?" Xander questioned, his pace quickening.

The nurse motioned towards a closed door and Xander sprinted to it, not
knocking before he threw himself into the room. He stopped just inside
the door, the sight of Cordelia freezing him. She was sitting up in the
bed, two nurses holding her down as she struggled to get up. Her hair
was plastered to her pale face and she was sobbing hysterically. One of
the nurses turned to him, asking him if he was the husband. He opened
his mouth to say no, but nodded instead, moving slowly to stand at the
foot of the bed.

"Cordy?" He whispered, his voice choked with sorrow.

She stopped struggling at the sound of his voice, her eyes searching his
face. "Xander?" Her voice was terrified as she stared at him.

He moved closer to her, the nurses letting go of Cordelia's arms and
backing away. Reaching down he touched her face, smoothing the hair
back. Whispering her name again, he wrapped his arms around her as she
sobbed. Her head pushed against his face as she cried on his shoulder as
if she would never stop. He felt his own tears slipping down his face as
he kissed her head and murmured meaningless words of comfort.

Her sobs finally slowed and she pulled away from him, leaning back
against the pillow, her eyes red and swollen. She looked up at him, her
voice hoarse as she spoke. "You would have loved the baby."
 It was a statement more than a question, but he nodded his head anyway,
his hand reaching out to cover hers. She stared at him for another
minute before speaking again. "The baby was everything to me. It was all
I had, all I wanted."

"Cordelia." He uttered, feeling totally helpless to comfort her. "I'm
here for you."

She didn't say anything in response to his words, her expression
impossible to read as she stared down at the sheet covering her, her
fingers plucking aimlessly at the fabric. When she lifted her eyes again
it was only to whisper that she was okay now, and that she wanted to be
alone for a while. Xander leaned over and kissed the top of her head
before walking away.

He moved slowly down the hallway, barely noticing the people who passed
him, faces that were blurred by the tears in his eyes. He forced himself
to keep moving, to keep the tears hidden, until he could be alone.
Willow and Buffy stood up as soon as they saw him enter the room, their
faces filling with sorrow as they looked at him. They moved
simultaneously over to him, wrapping themselves around him as they
cried. He didn't cry though, he couldn't, the guilt he felt overwhelming
him. Pushing them away he walked shakily over to the chairs and sat
down, feeling the weight of his failure pushing on him.

"How is she?" Willow asked, kneeling in front of him, her goodness
shining in her eyes.

"Sleeping. She wants to be alone." Xander mumbled, before sitting up
straight, his hands balled into fists. "I wanted to tell her that she's
already been alone too much, but I didn't. What could I possibly have to
offer her now, especially after everything I've done, everything I've
said?" He posed the question to no one in particular, knowing there was
no good answer.

"You love her." Buffy offered, her face showing the pain of the guilt
she was feeling.

"Yeah." Xander laughed bitterly. "I've done a great job of loving her so
far."

"She needs you now Xander. She'll need all of us." Willow said.

"And I'm sure we'll be the first people she turns to." Xander spat out,
unable to keep the anger he felt from showing in his voice. He felt as
if he would never take another breath without regretting every moment of
the past five years. His mind was racing as he remembered every cruel
word he had said to her since she had returned, every horrible fate he
had wished upon her.

"We'll make it up to her." Buffy promised, her face determined.

"How?" Xander questioned angrily. "Can you make our baby live?" He
stared at Buffy intently, seeing the same guilt that turned his stomach
reflected in her eyes. Feeling the tears burning his throat he turned
his head from her, covering his face with his hands as he mourned for
the baby he had just discovered and lost. A picture flashed in his mind
of Cordelia holding their child, her expression full of joy. Sobs
finally burst from his body as he thought of the life that could have
been, the baby that would have brought them both such happiness.

No one tried to stop his tears, they let him mourn for his child as they
sat by his side, both of them softly crying.  They were silent long
after he had finally stilled his tears, knowing that there was nothing
anyone could say right now that could make it any better. Xander didn't
move from his chair for the entire day, his eyes watching everyone who
entered the hallway that held Cordelia. He didn't move when Willow
finally went to get something to eat, and he didn't move when she came
back an hour later and told him that Cordelia had checked herself out
and that she didn't want to see him. He just sat there as another night
fell, saying nothing at all.



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

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

Date: Sun, 17 Jan 1999 13:43:55 -0500
From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: After the Fire

Title: After the Fire
Name: Northlight
email: [e-mail]
Spoilers: Gingerbread (that is the title, isn't it?  Whatever.  The
latest one).
Summary:  Joyce deals with her guilt.
Disclaimer:  They don't belong to me... but then, we all knew that
already, didn't we?



    Joyce Summers looked around her living room, trying to hold onto some
semblance of control.  Wide, horrified eyes swept across the couches
where she and her fellow members of MOO had planned their next step in
an escalating program of fear and retribution.  From there, her eyes
shifted towards the stairs, where only hours ago, two children had stood
urging her to destroy her own daughter.  That memory sent Joyce's eyes
snapping down to the floor where she had dropped her drugged and
horrified daughter.

    One trembling hand flew to Joyce's mouth, and she clenched her eyes
shut.  The darkness behind her eyes offered her no reprieve from the
memories swirling around her.

    Fire danced through her mind, as merciless as she had been.  She gagged
helplessly as she thought of how close that fire had come to claiming
three innocent lives.  She had nearly _killed_ three children.  She had
nearly killed her own _daughter_.

    A mother was supposed to protect her children, not persecute and hunt
them down.  Joyce's eyes filled with helpless tears.  Buffy had hugged
her, whispering reassuring words to her, letting her know that she was
alive.  Joyce had held her daughter to her desperately, even Buffy's
form in her arms seeming unreal.  Since discovering her daughter's
destiny, Joyce had worried constantly about her falling before some
demon.  She had never thought that she could be used as an instrument of
destruction.

    Joyce had always believed in non-violence and freedom.  And yet, she
had turned against those ideals with an ease that terrified her.  As if
sensing what her mother was thinking, Buffy had repeated earnestly that
it hadn't been Joyce's fault.  It had been the monster, she had said.
It had been using everyone.

    That didn't, _couldn't_ make the guilt leave.

    She had roused the entire town into a frenzy of hatred and violence.
She had helped to set parents against their own children.  'And what if
everyone wasn't saved?  What if some people decided to act on their own
against the witches?'  A low moan escaped her at that thought.

    What had begun as a quest to help make her home a better place for
everyone had deteriorated into yet another burst of violence and death
throughout Sunnydale.

    She had eagerly, joyfully burned books at her daughter's bound feet.
She had lashed out at her with hurtful words.  She had become as great a
monster as those Buffy fought.

    Joyce's eyes peeled open, latching onto the posters scattered around
the room.  The two demon children who had led her step by step through
the witch hunt stared out at her, mocking smiled on their lips.

    A low hiss broke through Joyce's clenched teeth.  Without conscious
thought, she was moving forward, her jaw clenched and her hands balled
into fists.  She reached out towards the nearest poster, her breaths
harsh as she glared down at it.

    "Never again, indeed!" she growled suddenly, the small faces tearing
apart beneath her hands.  Joyce watched them flutter down to the carpet
before reaching out for a pickets.  She hefted it up marched towards her
office.  With a shout, she brought it down against the desk, the papers,
the posters, against everything that had been the woman she had become.

***

    Buffy approached her house warily, weariness and worry making her steps
slow.  She and Giles had finished up monster cleaning duty, and now she
was coming home to an even more strenuous job.

    Her mother was an emotional mess, Buffy recognized.  It would be a long
night of talking and crying before either of them would be able to even
seriously consider sleep.

    Buffy stepped into the house and stopped short.  She looked around,
blinking rapidly in surprise.  Someone had been on one hell of a
rampage.  "Mom?!" Buffy called out softly, moving deeper into her home.

    She found Joyce in her office, sitting on the floor surrounded by the
remains of her office.  Joyce looked up and smiled weakly.  "You're
right, Buffy.  What kind of an acronym was MOO anyway?"


~End~

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

Date: Mon, 18 Jan 1999 05:46:30 EST
From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Can't Hide the Past (4c/?)

Title: Can't Hide the Past
Author: Anna Perez (Shadows)
E-mail: [e-mail]
Feedback: Please?
Rating: PG-13 to R
Disclaimer: Characters seen on the Idiot Box belong to Joss Whedon & the WB
Distribution: Just ask for permission
Summary: 15 years after my own season 3 finale, the characters of BtVS find
themselves thrown back together under unusual circumstances.
Note: The last episode that I have seen is "Amends". I will follow the show
from up to there, and then it's my playground.

*****

    Oz was trying to explain to Cordelia that this might be the indirect cause of
a spell he, Willow, and Echo where doing the day before, but only so much
could enter Cordelia Harris' head at once. She only heard the words "Willow"
and "spell."

    "So this is *Willow's* fault?" she fumed. "Why does everything that happens
to me in this Factory has to be because of *Willow*." Oz imagined that there
was smoke coming out of her ears, and he tried not to let a smile appear on
his face from the comical mental image.

    "Cordelia, calm down," he soothed. "Listen to e-ver-y-thing I say-"

    "Oz!" "Cordelia?"

    The two separate voice rang out in the emptiness of the factory. "Down here-
wait, we'll be up there in a second!" Oz called out, recognized the voices of
Xander and Willow. He was glad to see them-if they were stuck in Sunnydale and
they were alive, then there was a chance of getting out of this town living
and breathing and to find a way out of whatever mess they were in.

    "Oz?" It was Xander's voice, lined with worry. "Is Cordelia down there with
you?"

    "Yes I am!" Cordelia answered for herself, and Oz winced at the volume. "And
Alexander Harris, you better explain what the *hell* is going on when I get up
there! Both to Oz and me!"

    "I promise, Cordy," Xander called from up above. Cordelia relaxed at the
sound of her husband's voice.

    "Hey!" Oz yelled up at Xander. "I'll hoist her up there, and you grab her
arms, ok? You don't have to crawl up there. And Willow?"

    "Yeah?" Her voice was small and sounded like bells.

    "I'll be up right after Cordy, ok?" No answer. "Everything's fine, baby. I'm
here."

    The answer was a very soft murmur of "I know."

    Oz paused for a moment to mull over Willow's strange comment, and then
shrugged it off. He grabbed Cordelia by the waist and lifted her clear over
his head. He noticed that Xander had hold of her arms because Cordelia's body
went taut. He pushed her up as Xander pulled and didn't let go until his hands
slipped off her shoes. Then, making sure the hole was cleared, he bent his leg
muscles and then let them loose, jumping out of the hole.

    The scene before him so stunned him that he practically fell back down again.

*****

    What was he expecting? It was hard to put it into words. Maybe . . . a taller
version of him. Yes, that was one thing that he was expecting-hoping was a
more aptly put word, actually. And maybe he'd have gotten his grown spurt, and
not be so damn lanky. And maybe he'd be able to keep his hair color just one
shade, and maybe he'd have finally grown a real goatee instead of fuzz. Maybe.

    Sadly, his hopes were dashed. If the gang had thought both Willow's looked
alike, past Oz and Future Oz could be mistaken for twins.

    They both were rather short; They both were lanky, although F-Oz was slightly
thinner; Oz's hair a dulled brown (his original color) and F-Oz's a reddish-
brown; they both had fuzz that half-passed for goatees or just the inability
to shave. Oz was disappointed.

    F-Oz was floored.

    "Ok, is anybody *else* seeing double?" F-Oz asked. F-Willow turned towards
him and her arm slinked around his back. Needing some sense of security
himself, he hung his arm about her shoulders and pulled her close, like they
had been doing on the balcony just minutes ago. Except . . . no jacket. Darn,
he had liked that jacket, he'd had it forever; but he loved Willow more and
was worried more about losing her than a half-replaceable jacket.

    He noticed that she was shivering, and he wrapped another arm around her. F-
Willow hugged him and they looked like one person. It was sweet.

    "Yeah," F-Xander sighed, holding his own wife in his arms. "You see, seems my
younger self decided to transport all of us back to the past as a 'fluke
accident', and we're here, so we're stuck here until we can find a way back."
He looked at F-Oz, waiting to see what he would say or do.

    "That's . . . certainly something," F-Oz said, grasping for the right words
and finding none.

    "And who says things change?" Xander muttered under his breath. Buffy
overheard him and flashed him grin, which he sent right back. He was watching
F-Xander holding what he was pretty damn sure was F-Cordelia. And however
elating, it was also strange and confusing. He had the feeling that an
explanation wasn't coming his way any time soon.

    "So, you're saying we're in the past . . . ?" F-Cordelia said, her voice
showing a surprising strength. Xander looked down at her, and she tilted his
head up. Her nose met with his chin when they stood like that. "Oh. Ohmigod."

    "We're not in Kansas anymore," Oz noted, shaking his head at what was going
on.

    "Yeah, well, thanks for the brilliant observation, Toto," Cordelia shot back
harshly, and Oz flinched. "I'm sorry," she quickly apologized, and then
brought a hand to her forehead. "Ohmigod, this is just too much . . ." She
turned to look at everyone in the room, and as soon as her eyes landed on
Buffy she whipped Xander around and began a heated and muted conversation.

    Willow and Oz just stared at the almost-identical couple. They were moving
their mouths as though they were speaking to each other, but no sound
whatsoever came out. They went like this for awhile, everyone explaining what
they were going through, and then F-Cordelia let out a long, "Oh, I get it
now. But if I get the chance, I'm still gonna claw her eyes out."

    "If Cordelia gets it, I get it," F-Oz whispered to his wife, and she giggled.

    "Well," Buffy said, spinning a stake idly in her hands. There were no
vampires tonight, and she just wanted to get the next pick-up over with. She
knew she was next, and she knew exactly where she was.

"Um, so now what?" Oz asked, and they all turned to look towards Buffy, who
obviously would take over as the leader of the group.

    "Well, I know where I am," Buffy said, trying to keep her voice flat and
emotionless, like Faith often did. For all she knew, she might not even be
alive still. "I definitely know the place I most hate."

    "The place you most hate? Wait . . ." F-Oz looked between Buffy and F-Willow,
and then Oz and Willow. F-Willow's grip tightened and she nodded in
affirmation. They traded meaningful looks.

    F-Xander turned a strange shade of purple, and then looked away from F-
Cordelia. F-Cordelia noted his awkwardness and pushed away her own. She
grabbed his chin-stubble, jesus, didn't the man ever take time to shave?-and
looked unwaveringly into his eyes. "I forgive you," she told him low and
sternly, "and don't you dare think otherwise." F-Xander gave her a wane smile,
and she kissed him lightly on the mouth.

    Xander almost let out an audible sigh. {Cordelia and I . . . back together?
But if we're back together, how? The only talking she does to me now is to put
me down, I can't believe she'd actually forgive me, and I want to be kissing
her right now instead of my other self kissing her. It's no fair that I have
to wait that long. Even though it's my fault that I have to wait.}

    "So we go get . . . Buffy, next?" F-Cordelia asked, after she was done making
sure her husband knew she held no grudge. She looked towards the younger
generation with her typical "So, am I right?" look.

    "Well, yeah," Buffy said, itching to get out of this Factory and over to
where she thought she'd find her future self.

    "Then what are we waiting for?" F-Oz asked. In his arms, F-Willow made a
small shrug. "Then let's go."

*****

    It was a tight squeeze-true-and it was a bit awkward-true-but the gang and
their future selves tried to make the best of it. Meaning no one was speaking.

    F-Xander and F-Cordelia had claimed the back of the van, and were sprawled in
comfortable positions while engaged in a conversation that included doing some
strange version of patty-cake that kept sending them into fits of giggles.
Xander was leaning on the doors, looking somewhere between falling asleep and
gazing with confusion at the couple playing patty-cake. Buffy was on the
opposite side of the doors with knees drawn up to her chin, deep in thought.
F-Oz and F-Willow were leaning on the back of Oz's seat, F-Willow in F-Oz's
lap, his arms wrapped tightly around her slim waist. He was whispering
Shakespeare in her ear, and she had a happy and contented look in her face.

    Oz was in the front seat, trying to cope with the fact that less than a foot
away stood, well, himself. In fact, he was so coping with it that it was the
only thing on his mind, and he forgot the very much more important thing.

    "Uh, Buffy?' Oz called into the back. Everyone looked up from their
respective thoughts and activities and looked at him attentively. "Where
exactly are we going?"

    Buffy's jaw dropped but said nothing. That was F-Cordelia's job.

    "You mean you don't know?" she asked, her own jaw dropping. "Where've we been
driving for the past, like, fifteen minutes?"

    F-Oz scooted over to where he could see out the windshield and craned his
neck. "Looks like the city limits," he said, a touch of humor in his voice.

    "Oh, great one," F-Cordelia said, throwing her arms up. One of them hit F-
Xander in the face, and he gently grabbed her arms and placed them in her lap.
"Twelve steps," he told her sternly. "Twelve steps."

    F-Cordelia looked at him cluelessly, and then once getting the point, she
gave an exasperated sigh, crossed her arms over her chest, and turned away
from him. "I *hate* being a better person," she grumbled, an unhappy
expression on her face.

    "That's funny," F-Xander said lightly, "because it seems you don't have much
practice at it." F-Cordelia, astonished, turned to look at him, and then
slapped him playfully on the arm. "You are such a smartass, Xander! You better
be careful, or I'm gonna be serving you divorce papers"

    Everyone had a good quiet laugh in the van, and Buffy was about to speak up
when F-Willow reached over to her and tugged out the hat-thing she had sat on.
F-Willow held it up like a trophy and then waved it in front of F-Oz's face.
"We still have this!" she proclaimed proudly, and then gave him a quick kiss
on the lips.

    "What *is* it?" F-Cordelia asked, tapping her fingernails lightly on F-
Xander's arm, which was slung casually around his wife's shoulders. F-Willow
took one look at the hat-thing and shrugged. She looked at Oz, who shrugged in
turn.

    "I don't really care. I just like it a lot 'cause it earned me a kiss." Oz
grinned, and the grin grew wider as Willow grinned back. Ah, she had the
sweetest smile . . .

    "I hate to break this moment," Buffy interrupted, a wistfulness evident in
her voice-obviously wishing for happier time-"but it seems our ride has
stopped."

    It had indeed. Oz was turned around with one arm draped over the headrest of
his chair, looking over at Buffy. "So, where are we going?" he asked calmly.

    "You're on the right road," Buffy assured him.

    "But we're almost the to edge of Sunnydale," Willow pointed out, doubt
evident in her voice. "Are you sure we're going the right way?"

    "I'm sure," Buffy said confidently. "We're headed to the mansion."


//**\\


    ~~~~Meanwhile, back at the library, a place filled with characters the author
has been ignoring thus far, and she apologizes for that very fact . . .~~~~

    Giles was seated at the table with the Pergamum Codex in front of him, a
surefire way of figuring out what in the bloody hell was going on around here.
Buffy, Xander, Willow, Oz, F-Xander, and F-Willow had gone out to round
everyone else, leaving F-Faith behind to pretend to help him research. And
also leaving that bloody dog here to destroy his library.

    D-Giles was currently nosing his wet muzzle through some very ancient and
hard-to-replace books. "Hey, get!" he told the dog. D-Giles lifted his head to
look at him for a second, wet brown eyes meeting Giles', and then the dog
turned back to "reading" the covers.

    "Shoo!" Giles tried again, wanting to drive the dog away but not wanting to
put any physical effort into it. This time, when he dog looked up at him, D-
Giles gave his namesake a who-do-you-think-you-are-ordering-ME-around-like-
that looks that reminded Giles too much of Cordelia to give him the power to
keep a straight face.

    "Just call it by its name." Giles turned his head around and saw F-Faith
leaning her chair back on two legs, one wicked-looking black boot sitting on
top of the table, and the slayer herself giving it a literal spit-shine. "Call
it by its name and tell it to fucking stop it. 'Shoo' ain't gonna cut it,
gramps."

    Giles shook his head at her dirty mouth as he turned back to face the dog,
who had taken the Malleus Maleficarum by the teeth. "Giles!" he said sharply,
feeling extremely ridiculous. D-Giles looked up at, surprised that this
impudent stranger was commanding authority. But that's all it took: a sharp
glare, the mention of his name, and a "bad dog! Don't do it again!" verse once
or twice. D-Giles hung his head and jumped down from the chair in which he had
perched upon, slinking away to sulk in a corner.

    "Um, thank you," Giles said to F-Faith, who ignored him. He sighed and took
his glasses off, running a hand nervously through his hair.

    "You're welcome," F-Faith muttered, trying to see if it was true, that you
could see your own reflection in your shoes if they were shiny enough. She
snorted. "Bullshit."

    "Pardon me?" Giles said, surprised. F-Faith took one look at him and shook
her head sadly, wondering why she had to stay guard over both helpless
puppies.

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

End of buffyfic-digest V3 #23
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