From: sah Subject: BUFFYFIC: ADMIN: List rules Date: 01 Sep 1998 11:29:59 -0400 Welcome! This list is for fiction related to "Buffy The Vampire Slayer," both the TV series and the movie. To ensure that we all get to enjoy as much fiction as possible, please adhere to the following guidelines, and please save them for future reference. 1. Fiction should have Buffy characters in it and clearly be related to Buffy. Crossovers are great, and expected, but general vampire/monster stories that aren't in the Buffy universe and don't use Buffy characters belong somewhere else. 2. Discussion of posted fiction is permitted onlist. Please put "DISCUSS" in your subject line. Requests for missing story parts should go directly to the author, and not be posted to the list. Discussion that is not related directly to the fiction should go over to the general Buffy list. Discussion of fiction is expected to follow common netiquette guidelines and use PG-13 language. 3. No advertising of items or services, Buffy related or not, and no posting of non-story items such as .gifs, sound files, etc.. No attached files of kind-- if your mailer makes your fiction into attached files, you need to find another way to get it to the list. 4. If you're writing a story and including advance information on a new episode, and you're posting your story earlier than the national viewing time, please: **Mark the post as a "spoiler" in the subject header. **Leave about twelve lines (blank or with non-spoiler info) at the top of the post. This ensures that anyone who doesn't like knowing about an episode ahead of time is "protected." :) The blank space is for people whose mailers automatically open up the next piece of mail, without giving them a chance to see "spoiler" in the header. Spoiler warnings are not necessary after the start of the episode's national viewing time, which is currently set at 9 p.m. Mondays, Eastern Standard Time. Spoiler warnings are not necessary for reruns. 5. This list is absolutely NOT for erotic fiction. stronger than sexually PG-13 material is to be posted to the list under any circumstances. A story may be R rated for violence or language, however. If you have a question about something's suitability for posting, feel free to ask one of the listowners. Sending sexually explicit material will get you immediately and permanently unsubscribed. No exceptions. 6. By subscribing and/or posting to this list, you acknowledge that Buffy the Vampire slayer and all characters associated with either the televised series or the motion picture were created by Josh Whedon and are owned by Mutant Enemy productions, Kuzui Productions, Sandollar Productions, and 20th Century Fox. All stories posted to this list are for entertainment purposes only, are not sold for profit of any kind, and are not intended to infringe on any copyrights. 7. When posting stories to the list, please follow the following formatting guidelines --No story parts longer than 250 lines --No lines longer than 75 characters --Turn off your "smart quotes"-- many readers receive these as garbage or weird symbols --Put the title of the story in the subject header, indicate if it's a multipart story, and if so what part this is. Example: Buffy Meets Godzilla (2/65) indicates that this post is part two of a 65 part story. 8. If a story is rated "R" for language/violence, indicate this in an introduction. For example, "There's a really bloody fight scene at the end of this part" or "if you don't like dismemberment, stop reading now!" If there's chance that someone might be disturbed by something in your story (even if it's not rated R) please include some kind of warning up front. 9. And last, but not least, the listowners reserve the right to deny subscription (new, renewed, or continued) to the list for any individual(s). PLEASE NOTE: not following any or all of these rules will get you the following: **First offense: offender is unsubscribed for one week. **Second offense: offender is unsubscribed to the Buffyfic list for a minimum of three months. **If the offender returns and does it again, they're offlist permanently. As noted above, posting sexually explicit material is the exception -- you go straight to permanent unsubbing. Again, welcome! If you have any questions about these rules, please contact either one of us offlist. If you have subscription problems or questions, the fastest way to get help is to e-mail one of us at the addresses below, at the kirby@xmission.com addy which is the "official" e-mail owner of the list. Jill Kirby (jtkirby@mcs.com) & Sharon Himmanen (romana@mindspring.com) Listowners, Buffy the Vampire Slayer Fiction List buffyfic@xmission.com - ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: sah Subject: BUFFYFIC: ADMIN: Free email policy Date: 01 Sep 1998 11:29:58 -0400 Please read this. It's very important. Effective immediately, anyone who wishes to s*bscribe to any Buffy list on a "freemail" account (Geocities, Hotmail, etc.) will be required to provide us with a "permanent" e-mail address as a backup. We will under any circumstances reveal this permanent e-mail address to anyone. This is for our reference This new policy has become necessary because of the problems we've experienced with freemail accounts. They're too easy to set up and cancel, and there is so little recourse if the individual with the freemail account causes problems, that we have no choice but to enact this policy. The s*bscription information pages will be changed to reflect this policy. IF YOU ARE CURRENTLY S*BSCRIBED UNDER A FREEMAIL ADDRESS: as long as you stay s*bscribed, you do not need to provide us with this information. However, if you uns*b and want to res*b at some point, you will have to give us this information even if you were previously a s*bscriber through a freemail account. If we have to uns*b you for bouncing mail, again, you'll have to provide the information to res*b. If you have any questions regarding this, please contact us offlist. Thanks. sah and Jill romana@mindspring.com and jtkirby@mcs.com - ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Black Fire" Subject: BUFFYFIC: Kender Chaos (9/?) Date: 01 Sep 1998 16:34:38 PDT Title: Kender Chaos Author: Black Fire Email:Blackfire42@hotmail.com Feedback: Yes, please. Rating: PG Spoilers: Buffy: Anything before WML1 Dragonlance: Chronicles and Legends Trilogies. Disclaimers: I own neither sets of characters and I can't afford to either. Summary: Tasslehoff Burrfoot and Fizban the Fabulous have found their way to Sunnydale. Yes, I'm finally getting around to finishing this. Anyway, when we last left, Spike had just narrowly escaped a stray fireball and Buffy and Co. were worrying about what my happen if Spike and Drusilla found out who Fizban really was. Kender Chaos Chapter 9 Across town, Fizban was slumped in a chair, snoring quietly. Spike had been trying for hours to get some useful information out of him, but the old wizard was no help. Sometimes he couldn't even remember his own name, and others, he mumbled incoherently about things which made no sense. Spike finally gave up and left the old man alone. Fizban had, then, promptly fallen asleep in Spike's chair. Drusilla was supervising the placement of the brand new table that two vampires had found to replace the last one they had replaced. Spike watched this, absently wondering how long *this* one would last. Having found the perfect spot for the table, Dru went to sit at Fizban's feet. This finally caused him to stir from his nap and look down at her. Rather than confused, as usual, his face was one of concern for the girl leaning against him. Gently, he reached down and put a comforting hand on her head. "And what's wrong with you, my girl?" he asked. "Princess is sick," Dru whispered, looking off into space. "Hmmm..." Fizban mumbled. "Not that it's any of *your* business," Spike jumped in, "but she's very weak and getting worse." "I'll decide what is and is not my business, Sonny," Fizban snapped, glaring at Spike. "Will you help?" Dru asked, looking up at the old man. "Help Princess? Make her feel better?" "There may just be something I can do," Fizban said, smiling down at her. "What could *you* do?" Spike snapped. "Well, I could... uh...," the seriousness was gone from Fizban in an instant. "What was the question again?" "Oh bloody hell!" Spike growled. "I was right. He's of no use to us, what so ever!" Ignoring a whimper from Drusilla, Spike continued on his tirade, while Fizban just sat there trying to remember what they were talking about. "Where is that blasted Kender?" Fizban muttered. "He'd know what I was supposed to do. Say have you found him yet?" Spike walked around behind Fizban and leaned over him, "I could kill you so easily, old man," he whispered into the wizard's ear. "Well, that's not very nice," Fizban grumbled. "Here I've offered to help you, but you don't tell me what you want help with. But I give you my word that I will help you with whatever it is you need help with, if you help me. But do you live up to your end? No, so why should I? I'd use that wonderful fire ball spell on you... if I could remember what it was..." "It just so happens that I sent people out looking just after sunset," came Spike's retort. "Well, that's different then," the old man exclaimed, lowering his hands. "Now what was it you wanted me to help you with?" With a muffled cry of frustration, Spike finally gave up and stormed out of the factory, deciding that looking for dinner would be far less frustrating than dealing with Drusilla's new pet. The Black Fire | "Don't worry, I'm not here to eat." Blackfire42@hotmail.com | -Angel (IG) http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Shadowlands/4203 "But if they all forget me I will be here anyway, like an artifact of some lost civilization" -Vlad Dracula _The Dracula Tape_ "I'll see you there, Jekyll." -Edward Hyde "Jekyll & Hyde" ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: taygeta@juno.com (Charity C. T.) Subject: BUFFYFIC: Chronicles (26/?) Date: 03 Sep 1998 12:06:48 -0700 TITLE: Chronicles of the White Knight #26 A Hand to Hold AUTHOR: Taygeta E-MAIL: taygeta@juno.com FEEDBACK: Yes...whatever the complaint! DISTRIBUTION: Sure, just tell me first. RATING: PG KEYWORDS: Buffy/Xander fanfic DISCLAIMER: The characters any such reference to Buffy the Vampire Slayer television series belong to their creator, Joss Whedon, and their owners, Mutant Enemy productions, Kuzui Productions, Sandollar Productions, and 20th Century Fox. In other words, they do not belong to me. Copyright infringement not intended. ***************************** Chronicles of the White Knight #26 A Hand to Hold By: Taygeta As much as he wanted to never let her out of his arms, he pulled himself away, and Buffy, surprised at the sudden, cold-reacting move, was reassured of his ongoing presence by the comforting touch of her hand in his. She looked up to meet his eyes and felt his other hand against the hollow of her cheek, quick to wipe tears that had shed. There they stood, eyes fixed to the other, not wanting to move, not even wanting to breath for fear of ending the moment, but soon enough, Xander tore his eyes away from hers and mustered something of a smile, "Come on…I think we should go to Giles." As they walked towards the school quickly, Buffy's mind began to take in the flood of memories that was contained in those lost weeks, and with it came the pain of loss, the anger of suffering, and the emptiness of uncontrollability. She remembered everything with bitter vividness, being controlled like a puppet the moment her eyes fell on Angel, almost like that past Halloween, but so much more different because this time her awareness was non-existent, her avoidance of her friends, their avoidance of her, etc. Yet, out of the memories held in her mind of those days, the ones that held the most ground, that burned into the deepest crevices of her mind and of her heart, were the afflictions she had set on Xander and the realization of the love he had given her in return. She was thoroughly aware that he hadn't a clue to the type of spell she had been under, it was obvious in his manner, voice, and form. Half-glad she was about his not knowing, but the other half of her wondered what if he did know…how would he react and as she glanced quickly at him during their gait, she didn't think she wanted to know, or rather, she feared the answer. "Are you ready?" he asked in a voice filled with concern as they reached the doors to the library. After how badly she had treated them, she wondered if her readiness really mattered in the overall whole, it was really a matter, if they were ready to excuse her for what she had done. Nodding, she swallowed a gulp of air into her dry throat and whispered, "Yeah, I think so." "Good," he said softly as he looked into her eyes that once again locked in the matter that they had before. She saw in his eyes so much pain and her heart ached to think that she had caused that pain to be there, but in the sorrow of his eyes, was the love she had always known, but had been too blind and ignorant to see. Her hand hesitantly reached to touch his face, she felt the stubble of his chin beneath her palm, and her fingers moved to touch his lips…those she was fighting the urge to kiss. His free hand took hold of her wrist and he kissed her fingers softly before he said, "You have to do this on your own, you know that don't you?" She nodded slowly, "Yeah, I know, but can't you stay with me…just for a little while?" He shook his head, "I'm sorry, Buffy, but I can't…I've stayed a lot longer than I should've and I have to go." "I understand," she said as her eyes fell to the floor when his hands relinquished hers and he began to walk away. Looking up, she called out to him, "Xander!" He turned and looked at her, "Yes, Buffy?" Shaking her head in the frustration of memories and words she said, "I wanted you to know that I'm the one that should be sorry…for what happened…for everything." "But how could you be responsible? You love Angel and - " "But that's it! I don't love him," she said as she approached him and looked carefully into his eyes, "I love you…Xander, and it's that stupid spell that made me lose you…I don't want to lose you." "What are you - " he asked in a confused tone, "Buffy…what - what was the spell that was cast?" Taking a deep breath she replied, "That spell was a love spell. To make me fall in love with Angel, to make me break up with you, to make me do all the stupid things that I've done these past weeks." "She's telling the truth, Xander," Willow said as the Scooby gang filtered out of the library when they heard the loud voices in the hallway. "Why didn't you guys tell me that it was a love spell?" he demanded at them. "Because we didn't want this kind of reaction from you. We weren't sure you would be willing to help if you knew the kind of spell she was under. We weren't sure we had the responsibility to tell you what kind of spell she was under," Giles explained. "What reaction? I haven't even had time for a reaction," Xander said with blazing eyes, "I don't even know how to react! Lose the love of your life due to the magic of an all-powerful vampirical magician and his buddy, his sidekick, the formerly soul-bound Angel. Anybody care to give me reacting tips?" "Xander, don't be like - " "Y'know the last time I heard you say that I didn't fair well, so I think I'm going to get gone," he replied as he gave her one last longing look before he turned and walked away. Buffy felt a hand squeeze her shoulder comfortingly and she looked to find Willow with her optimistic smile, "He'll be okay, Buffy…you just have to give him time." They turned to walk to the library and she wondered how much time he was going to need to deal. No matter how long it was going to take…no matter what happened, she was comforted by the knowledge that Xander would always be her friend, he was as loyal as they come…after all, he had come to help her despite what had occurred that night, weeks prior. And she could deal with him being just her friend, as long as Buffy knew there was hand out there that was willing to take hold of hers and never let her fall…she was fine with his being *just* her friend. At least, that's what she told herself over and over again in the midst of the Scooby gang's tried comforting, all the while feeling her hand lost without the warmth of his gentle hold and feeling her heart empty and broken and lost without the presence of his. *****End of 26...Feedback???? :)****** _____________________________________________________________________ You don't need to buy Internet access to use free Internet e-mail. Get completely free e-mail from Juno at http://www.juno.com Or call Juno at (800) 654-JUNO [654-5866] ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: taygeta@juno.com (Charity C. T.) Subject: BUFFYFIC: Capeside: the Hellmouth #14 Date: 03 Sep 1998 17:16:32 -0700 TITLE: Capeside: the Hellmouth #10 Almost Full Moon AUTHOR: Taygeta E-MAIL: taygeta@juno.com FEEDBACK: Yes...whatever the complaint DISTRIBUTION: Sure...just tell me where it's gonna go. RATING: PG SERIES: A Dawson's Creek/Buffy Crossover DISCLAIMER: The characters and any other reference to Dawson's Creek are the property of, creator, Kevin Williamson. The characters portrayed and in reference to Buffy the Vampire Slayer belong to its creator Joss Whedon, and it's owners Mutant Enemy Productions, Kuzui Enterprises, Sandollar Productions, and 20th Century Fox. In other words, they do not belong to me and I am just borrowing them. No copyright infringement is intended. ************************** Capeside: the Hellmouth #14 Evil Unfolding By: Taygeta Cordelia peered into the water filled cauldron in front of her and screeched, "Ooh…that slayer makes me so mad." "Oh, relax, darling," Pacey said as he gave her a kiss on the cheek, "This is going to work…we've got it all planned perfectly. Their forces are down…that Jen girl is near death with that demon we loaned the car too, killing the Master Magician got their magic brats out of the way, and I brought you a present." She peered up at him and smiled, "Is a it a new dress?" "Even better," he said. "What can be better than a new dress?" she pouted and crossed her arms as she pulled away from his hold. Pacey smiled, "Oh…so many things…I'm sure you'll love your present, Cordelia. Grant…Larry…bring them in." Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened as her tongue scraped against her sharp incisors, "May I have them?" "No, darling, they're not to eat…at least not yet, anyway," he said as he walked towards their prisoners with a smile, "First, we have to get through a little game of Interrogation…I'm sure there are a lot of things they can tell us, isn't that right, Watchers?" *~*~*~*~*~*~*~ "Visiting hours are over, sir," one of the nurses said to Angel as he sat in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. He looked up at her and mustered a smile, "Um…I know…I'd - I'd just like to sit here for awhile, if that's okay?" "Sure, go right ahead. No harm in doing that," she replied before she walked away. A few moments later he a different voice say to him, "Visiting hours are over." "I know, I - " he began as he looked up and then paused, "Hello, Mrs. Lindley…how's Jen?" The older woman smiled softly as she sat beside him, "She's in critical, but stable condition still. The doctors are prospecting for the best, as they always are, and I'm merely praying that God doesn't take her too." "But what if God wills it?" he asked as he glanced at her. "Then He wills it," she said with a sigh, "but he hasn't yet, and I am holding on to the fact that he hasn't." "As am I," he said and for a moment, there was a peace in the room, as silently old scores and scorns between the two settled almost instantaneously. All of which was due to a shared faith in a higher being and a young woman hanging on to dear life in a room in the hustle and bustle of a hospital…a young woman, well loved. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~ "The sun's going to come up in a few hours…we, you, especially, better head home," Buffy warned, "I think the vamp threats are over. At least for now." "Yeah, I better go," he said, "If there's any change with Jen, make sure and call me…I'd like to know." She smiled and nodded, "Sure, of course…what is it with you and Jen, anyway?" "What do you mean?" "You two, you guys were always…kinda close…kinda really good friends…" Dawson shrugged, "I suppose it's because we are…I mean before, we used to go out, but that fell into shambles when she fell for Angel. Then we didn't talk to each other for awhile, but when we did…it was like before we had dated, but minus the physical attraction and raging teenage hormones." They continued to the Leery house laughingly beneath the night's sheath, and Buffy turned to him before she left and grinned, "Same bat time, same bat channel?" Frowning he asked, "What?" "Never mind," she said shaking her head as she thought that Capeside sourly lacked in the area of pop culture…at least Sunnydale's version of. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Xander rubbed his eyes sleepily and yawned as he trudged tiredly into the kitchen. He hadn't slept a wink the entire night. Had he really changed among the months that had passed in his stay in Capeside, and if he had, was it so significant that he was no longer who he had been? Then again, how much did Buffy really know about him? When he had told her about digressing and contemplating over who his mother was now, she couldn't have possibly known that he had spent his whole life doing that because he hadn't a clue who his mother was. How was she was suppose to know that the person who he called, Mom, who he knew and loved as, Mom, wasn't even his to call his own. Surely, he cared for her like a son would, but it was because of his lost lineage that they were never close to begin with. The same was said for the father that was never home to begin with. The once-in-awhile father that found himself to Sunnydale every Christmas and some birthdays and bought him something new and extravagant each time. "Quite the home life," he muttered to himself as he shut the refrigerator door, grabbed his backpack, and headed out the door. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~ "Giles, have you - " Buffy stopped mid-sentence to find the room occupied with only Xander standing with a confused expression in what was formerly a neat library, "What happened?" "I came in here a few minutes ago and everything was a mess," he answered as he glanced at her, "D-do you suppose it's…" "Vampires?" she finished as she stood beside him and surveyed the room before meeting his glance, "Definitely." "The minions of Cordelia and Pacey, I presume," Joey said closing the library door behind her as she walked in, "I take it that Ms. Calendar and Giles didn't get out of here." "Most likely? No," the slayer replied as she walked around the room, continuing to eye the job the Undead Americans had left of their library and she passed by Ms. Calendar's laptop, "Hey, this thing's on." Joey and Xander walked towards the computer as Buffy opened it to reveal that it was still on, apparently running on very low batteries. "One of the vampires, probably pulled the plug," Xander said as he found the adapter on the floor and hooked it to the PowerBook. "Apparently not fast enough," Joey said with a smile a she clicked on a file on the desktop, "Um…it says:" "Library taken over by vampires. Informed Willow's Society to take you in so that a plan may be devised. Cordelia and Pacey are initiating their plan to kill you…reasons for all the vampires. Good luck, we are sure you'll survive. Don't worry about us, we can-" "That's it…that's all that was written." "They're going to try and kill you," Xander said looking at Buffy with unmasked concern. "Try's the keyword, Xand, because I'm still alive and kicking, and I intend to stay that way." _____________________________________________________________________ You don't need to buy Internet access to use free Internet e-mail. Get completely free e-mail from Juno at http://www.juno.com Or call Juno at (800) 654-JUNO [654-5866] ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: taygeta@juno.com (Charity C. T.) Subject: BUFFYFIC: My Moira (10/?) Date: 04 Sep 1998 00:00:17 -0700 TITLE: My Moira #10 AUTHOR: Taygeta E-MAIL: taygeta@juno.com FEEDBACK: Very muchly wanted (bad or good...whatever the complaint) DISTRIBUTION: Sure, just tell me first. RATING: PG DESCRIPTION: Buffy's daugher is a slayer. It's about 20 some-odd years after. Buffy's married to Xander. Cordelia's a Watcher. Buffy and Giles retired from the slayer-biz. DISCLAIMER: The characters portrayed in this fanfic and any such reference to Buffy the Vampire Slayer television series belong to their creator, Joss Whedon, and their owners, Mutant Enemy productions, Kuzui Productions, Sanddollar Productions, and 20th Century Fox. In other words, they do not belong to me. Copyright infringement not intended. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* My Moira #10 By: Taygeta Wham! Whack! Crack…crash! Moira winced as the wooden structure broke on her last kick, "Sorry…looked kinda on the side of ancient though, so I suppose damage can be forgiven?" "Why didn't you guys tell me she was a natural?" Cordelia said in amazement at she looked at the broken apparatus. Xander smiled and chuckled, "Depends on what you consider as natural? 10 years of karate, 3 years of gymnastics, 8 years spent studying ballet, tap, modern dance, and soft-shoe…" "Oh and don't forget the year spent figure skating," continued Buffy with a smile. "But how is that possible?" the Watcher asked carefully, "That's a lot of activities for a 15-year-old girl, even if she's a slayer." Buffy explained, "Moira's been taking karate since she was five and that and ballet are the only two she's kept from all of that. She started gymnastics at three when she saw the Olympics for the first time, but I had her quit because she broke her wrist and ankle when she jumped on the balance beam when she wasn't suppose to and fell. Then we get into the dance phase years and she's still doing that with her ballet." "What about figure skating?" she asked. "That went out the window when she found out the coach was getting married," Xander said with a laugh. "Dad…that *so* wasn't like that!" insisted Moira with such an admonished expression that it was obvious that it was "so" like that and she turned to Cordelia, "Is it necessary to have the PU's here?" She wrinkled her forehead, "PU's? What are you - " "Parental Units," the teenager explained exasperatingly. "You heard the slayer…out," Cordelia said as she opened the door, the "PU's" reluctantly exited, and she closed the door behind them. "So, Moira, why don't we get into - " "Hey…now I remember you…" the fifteen-year-old said with a grin, "You used to date Dad!" Cordelia crimsoned under her pupil's grin, but held her composure, "How did you -" "Prom pics," she replied simply and then donned a devious expression, "So, were you and dad serious?" She hesitated and replied, "Um…sort of, but getting back to - " "How did you guys end up in the non-relationship factor?" Moira continued to probe. "It just didn't work out," she said, "Now can we get - " "How so?" the slayer said in a tone imitating innocence, but was obviously far from it's exterior. "If I tell you, do you promise no more questions and you get back to training?" asked Cordelia in a vexatious tone. "Slayer's honor," she said with crossed fingers behind her back. "Hands," she said as she looked at her critically. "Slayer's honor," she repeated with both hands showing, "Now spill." Shrugging Cordelia replied, "There's nothing really to spill. The night those pictures were taken was the night we broke up - " "He broke up with you at the prom?" Moira said with wide-eyes, "That's beyond scale harsh." Smiling, she shook her head, "N-no Moira, you don't understand. *We* broke up…meaning, mutual. It was a long time coming too, I guess both us just didn't want to admit it. See, for the most longest time, your father was in love with your mother." "But Mom was dating someone else, right?" she said, "Some guy…that was a major baddy in the eventual I hear." Realizing that her student hadn't a clue who Angel was, let alone, the identity of Angelus, Cordelia carefully said, "Uh…yeah, ended up being totally not himself. Anyway, despite that she was pretty upset at what he turned out to be that kind of threw your father and your mother together, friendship, wise. I was still his girlfriend, but even before that, I subconsciously knew he had this concept with her. Admittedly, and never tell him this, I was jealous, but I never really let him see that." "Wait a minute, does that mean Mom was the reason you two became non-existent?" she said speculated. "She was one of the reasons, but we wouldn't have worked out in the end, I don't think," Cordelia said, "And now, I think I've said just a little too much about the years of yesterday. So, why don't we get to crossbow training and leave your probing manners to the vamps in case interrogation takes place. Let's just hope you won't use those 'special skills' to interrogate their former 100+ years love lives." *~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Giles watched his breath swirl in the coldness of the California fall night as he eyed the twilight visible above. Turning around he saw Cordelia walk out of the house to join him, holding too hot mugs of coffee. "Thought you might need this," she said handing him a large green mug, "Don't worry, it's decaff." "Not that it matters…truthfully, sleep has been rather, as Xander used to put it, gone, lately," he replied as he took a sip of the warm liquid, "How goes training?" "Physically, the girl is like two Buffies," smiled Cordelia, "Dance and karate training…it's as if Xander and Buffy subconsciously knew their daughter was the next slayer. "Emotionally?" he questioned. "Not too well off," she admitted, "She's not taking any of this very seriously…and I think Buffy's right. She's going to have to patrol and a kill a vampire…fight a vampire, really, if she's gonna survive this. I pray to God, that I'm going to be as lucky as you were Giles…I think that all Watchers do. You're the first to have a retired slayer…and all of us want that." "Sadly, enough, not everyone reaches that," he said, "But I wouldn't say that I was entirely lucky to have been the Watcher of Buffy…not that I wasn't lucky. Headstrong, that girl was…still is to this day, but I think that that's what made her survive. Her adversary ways, her stubborn demeanor, and her want to be normal and knowing that she couldn't be so…perhaps never be so." "Thanks for the complimentary, Giles," Buffy said as she walked out of the kitchen and closed the screen door behind her, "But do you know what really kept me going?" "What?" "I didn't want anyone else to die, knowing that I had the best chance of preventing it," she said, "When Ms. Calendar died…I had a harder time adjusting than you would have thought. To know that in that moment, in the mall, I could of - I could of killed him, but I didn't…I blamed myself for that." "But it wasn't your fault, Buffy…you weren't ready…you can't tell the future," Cordelia replied, "Prophecy and all, it's only a portion of what may be, in reality, all those prophecies we've tried to divert, happened, we've just prevented them from being worse. Is that what I need to teach Moira? She's got stubborn and headstrong stamped over her forehead…I wonder where she gets that from." "Surely not from the guy that ran like a woman," joked Xander as he joined them on the back porch. "At least you came out, non-amphibious," quipped Cordelia with a smile. "Wait a minute, Cordy, I thought you took care of Annie the slayer…how is it that you were able to take charge of Moira?" Giles asked with a frown. "I was actually Annie's replacement Watcher…the one that trained her since birth died at the hands of a vampire and the Watcher's Society gave her to me," she said, "Apparently, I didn't do such a good job." "You mean, I didn't do such a good job," Buffy said softly. "He's not your destiny," Giles said with a comforting glance. Cordelia looked at them and said, "No, he's Moira's." _____________________________________________________________________ You don't need to buy Internet access to use free Internet e-mail. Get completely free e-mail from Juno at http://www.juno.com Or call Juno at (800) 654-JUNO [654-5866] ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: taygeta@juno.com (Charity C. T.) Subject: BUFFYFIC: IOHM (8/?) Date: 05 Sep 1998 00:01:27 -0700 TITLE: In Opacitatem Habitant Modo #8 Angelus AUTHOR: Taygeta E-MAIL: taygeta@juno.com FEEDBACK: Yes...please...whatever the complaint DISTRIBUTION: Sure, just tell me first. RATING: PG SERIES DESCRIPTION: Buffy is blind, various POVs INSTALLMENT DESCRIPTION: A peek into the mind of Angelus DISCLAIMER: The characters any such reference to Buffy the Vampire Slayer television series belong to their creator, Joss Whedon, and their owners, Mutant Enemy productions, Kuzui Enterprises, Sandollar Productions, and 20th Century Fox. In other words, they do not belong to me. Copyright infringement not intended. AUTHOR'S NOTE: I think this is not my best work...at all. I find it a little bit better than my Willow, but not too much better. Feedback would definitely be appreciated because I really need to know opinions due to the fact that this is a very hesitant installment. So, if you will...? *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* In Opacitatem Habitant Modo #8 Angelus By: Taygeta The dark, where the forbidden that harbors in the shadows of the day come to play. A place cloaked by the black, by the evil, and lighted only by the moonlight that casts the spells of madness at the fall of the light of day. Where vampires, witches, demons, and wolves seep in through moonlight's rays, and where the slayer will live her last weeks, days, hours, and minutes, before she is mine again. My love. My obsession. My kill. She is all. The chosen one among the rest, the chosen one that I choose to destroy. After all, she is the slayer. She is wanted by the vampires, the undead creatures of the night, by demons, by witches, and even by the hell-lord himself. All want her dead, quick and easy, but not me. Not I. I want her alive to drain her first of those sickly human feelings she gave to me and my counterpart gave to her. I want her first to feel pain and suffering, and then, *then* the very blood that runs its course through her veins will fill my own and take from her that precious elan vital, or at least what is left of it in blood. But as strong as my want to destroy her inside and out, the want…the wrath…of Druscilla, may indeed be the stronger. Spike's ashes litter the floor still where he died, where she sits at shrine through day and through night. Madness has encumbered her again, bound itself to her soul, but insanity is no longer a barrier to her demon's passions, for intent has paved its absurdly sane way. The Creatures of the Dark scoff at our idleness, at our sitting in wait for her to come to us. Ignorant, those undead fools are. She may be without eyes, without sight, but she is strong, stronger than any of those I had faced before, and although he never admitted it, not that he can now, anyway, stronger than Spike had ever killed. Lack of sight will not stop her…I know her too well. And admittedly so, I know the sickness of human love all too well. The bonds that she has with those friends of hers are powerful. So powerful that they will do anything to keep her alive, even if their life must end in the process. From the shadows, I know how guilt ridden they all are over her loss of eyes, but no matter the guilt, it seems that the nauseating feelings of love overwhelm the vice. They think we are only dealing with her, and that is where they are truly the imbeciles because it is far from being that, has never been that, and could never be that. Fighting her means to fight them, and although they are but mere mortals in the game of Good vs. Evil and are treading very slowly on the thin line of life and death, they, with her, are making us walk their very path in this everlasting game. ******End of #8 and my last plea for feedback!!!******* _____________________________________________________________________ You don't need to buy Internet access to use free Internet e-mail. Get completely free e-mail from Juno at http://www.juno.com Or call Juno at (800) 654-JUNO [654-5866] ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: uzenet@videotron.ca Subject: BUFFYFIC: Reunions and Other Troubles Date: 07 Sep 1998 12:50:39 -0500 Title: Reunions and Other Troubles Author: Northlight email: uzenet@videotron.ca Summary: A continuation to =91Love and Pain=92 . =20 Note: I messed with both of their characters. But it=92s my (dement= ed) story, so... Note #2: Lise, my message to you bounced but I did say that you can archive Love and Pain. Disclaimer: Angel is Joss Whedon=92s. Remy is Marvel=92s. =09The two men sat in companionable silence, both puffing on cigarett= es and wearing identical looks of sorrowful regret and loss. A thin haz= e of smoke, the result of months of nothing to do but talk and smoke, h= ung over the non descript room. =09Finally, Remy flicked his cigarette away. =93So anyway, I think t= hat she saved me, right?=94 he said suddenly, as if continuing a long standin= g conversation. =20 =09Angel nodded, slinking deeper into his chair. =93Yeah. The citad= el was falling, you head was in a guillotine...=94 =09=93But Rogue gets me out. So I think she=92s going to forgive me.= But then she dumps me into the snow and leaves me there to freeze.=94 Re= my narrowed his red on black eyes triumphantly. This time, he=92d be su= re to win their angst bout. Angel may have been roasting in Hell, but he s= pun a much better tale. Hell, anything sounded better if it were spoken with an accent. =09=93I got sent to Hell by my girlfriend after she told me to close = my eyes and kissed me,=94 Angel responded. He slunk further down, and Remy h= ad to wonder if a vampiric trait was a spine made of jello. =09Remy=92s lips parted to deliver the next line in their well worn d= ialogue when he was interrupted by the sudden and rather shocking appearance = of a door popping into the middle of the waiting room. =09Angel blinked in confusion, while Remy=92s eyes widened eagerly. = This was their chance to escape! They=92d get out eventually if they left= it to their respective creative teams, but why wait if this door could s= ave them now? Besides, after the treatment he=92d received, Remy wasn= =92t about to let his fate sit in the hands of _any_ writer. =09A blue and gold bundle tumbled through the door, landing on the fl= oor with a startled oath. A silver head shook uncertainly. =93What=92s = going on here? What happened to Sabra?=94 a familiar and all too unwelcome= d voice mumbled. =09=93Sorry Joe, but we=92ve gotta run,=94 Remy said, grinning happil= y as he leapt to his feet. He wobbled slightly, his legs having become accustomed an easy life in a waiting room chair. But the chance of freedom, and the fear of being stuck in the same room as amnesia boy sent him scurrying forward. =09Angel, being no dummy, followed Remy=92s example. Moments later, = the two angsty men were barreling toward the wavering door.=20 =09 =09When the disorienting blur before their eyes faded, Remy and Angel found themselves standing in a cemetery of all places. Remy scowled, but Angel=92s eyes lightened up. =20 =09=93Don=92t see what=92s so happy =91bout a cemetery=94 Remy grumbl= ed. He=92d half expected to step through the door and land in Rogue=92s waiting arms.= =20 After that hopeful image, this was just a bit of a let down. =09But Angel=92s mind was filled with the memories of the nights he a= nd Buffy had spent lip locked in just such a place. In fact, Angel look= ed around his surroundings more critically, this _was_ their cemetery! = And right over their was their favorite make out headstone... =09=93I=92m home!=94 Angel exclaimed giddily. =09Remy glanced at him. So that=92s what a non-angsting vampire soun= ds like, he thought. =93So you going to go see your girl?=94 =09Angel paused in his happy, giggly, in no way mysterious and broody dance. =93Um... Do think she=92d want to see me again? I know that = she loves me and all that, but you know, people are going to want us to w= ork through our issues.=94 =09=93This ain=92t your show, Angel! Nobody here cares about your is= sues, they just want you and Buffy to fly into each others arms.=94 Remy s= tared into space dreamily as his words continued, in more detail in his own mind. =91... and find that she=92s learned to control her powers, an= d that she=92s totally confident in herself and in our relationship, and tha= t years of not being able to touch anyone has made her _real_ eager for= --=94 =09=93--her!=94 Angel=92s excited cry burst through Remy=92s fantasy = before it could violate the comics code. =09=93Huh?=94 Remy replied, shooing his fantasy into the back of his = mind where he could pursue it later privately, and in much closer detail. =09=93That=92s her. Buffy=92s here!=94 Angel composed himself, turn= ing for Giggly Vampire Guy into Broody, Mysterious, Tortured, Vampire Hunk wi= th a Soul. =93She must be out patrolling...=94 =09Buffy, hearing her toasted love=92s words, looked up, surprise app= arent in her eyes. =93Angel!=94 she cried out, shock warring with deliriou= s joy. =09=93Buffy!=94 =09=93Angel=94 =20 =09 =09=93Buffy!=94=20 =09 =09=93Angel!=94 =09=93Buffy!=94 =09*SMOOCH* =09=93Oooohhh... Angeeeeellll!=94 =09=93Oooohhh yeah Buffy!=94 =09=93Ahem.=94 =09=93Uh? Oh... Buffy? Ooooh, honey? I... ahhhh.... this is... oh!= =94 =09=93Remy. My name is Remy.=94 =09Buffy seemed much more interested in a thorough inspection of Ange= l=92s mouth than in the stranger accompanying him. But she drew up enough willpower to pull herself away from him. =93Pleased to... *gasp*... = meet you.=94 =09The small group fell into an uncomfortable silence for a moment.= =20 Buffy=92s hand inched towards Angel=92s, and seeing the glazed look i= n the Slayer=92s eyes, Remy decided that it might be best to try to find Ro= gue before he got treated to another view of Buffy=92s pleasure to have A= ngel back.=20 =09=93Well, I=92m going to go find Rogue now=94 Remy stated. =91I ju= st hope I get as warm a welcome as Angel did=92. His fantasy prodded at his awaren= ess, begging to be let out in all it=92s delightful glory. Remy reluctant= ly leashed it back, promising to let if free reign in just a bit. =09=93I=92ll come with you. After hearing so much about her, I want = to meet this woman,=94 Angel said. =20 =09Remy had a sneaking suspicion that Angel=92s eagerness to accompan= y him had more to do with a certain librarian, hacker and annoying boy than genuine interest in Rogue. =93Sure.=94 =09=93I=92m coming with you,=94 Buffy said firmly, her hand squeezing= Angel=92s as if she=92d never let go. =09=93Why not?=94 Remy shrugged. =09Several minutes later (after discovering that Rogue was vacationin= g in Sunnydale and had rented a room in a nearby motel. A lucky break for all involved. Ain=92t coincidences great?). =09=93Remy?=94 =09=93Rogue.=94 =09=93Remy.=94 =09=93Rouge.=94 =09=93Remy!=94 =09=93Rogue!=94 =09*SMOOCH!* =09=93Remy, Ah learned to control my powers, I=92m totally confident = in myself and our relationship, and years without touching has made me incredib= ly eager for smoochies!=94 =09=93Oh, Rogue!=94 =09=93Oh, Remy!=94 =09=93Oh, Angel!=94 =09=93Excuse me, miss. But this is _my_ kissy time!=94 =09=93Oh. Sorry about that.=94 =09And thus, the two angsty couples were reunited, and there was smoo= chies for all. ~The End~ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Black Fire" Subject: BUFFYFIC: Kender Chaos (10/?) Date: 08 Sep 1998 16:27:03 PDT Title: Kender Chaos Author: Black Fire Email:Blackfire42@hotmail.com Feedback: Yes, please. Rating: PG Spoilers: Buffy: Anything before WML1 Dragonlance: Chronicles and Legends Trilogies. Disclaimers: I own neither sets of characters and I can't afford to either. Summary: Tasslehoff Burrfoot and Fizban the Fabulous have found their way to Sunnydale. Kender Chaos Chapter 10 Within an hour, an all out search was underway. They had set out from Buffy's house in groups of two or three. The biggest problem was which group would have the double task of looking for Spike's hideout while making sure that Tas stayed out of trouble. Through some sick twist of fate, this task fell to Angel, who also had the bad luck of getting paired with Xander. The gypsies had wanted him to suffer, yes, but this was pure torture! Dividing his attention between searching, keeping a wary eye on his "partner" and making sure the Kender stayed within arms' reach, he lead his party off towards the industrial area of Sunnydale. Giles and Willow had taken the main business area and Buffy was searching the residential area. The only thing that made Angel's situation semi-tolerable, was that Buffy had gotten stuck with Cordelia. Again, as usual, Tasslehof immediately became fascinated with all the wondrous things he was seeing in the strange world he had landed in. So much so, that Angel was, once again, forced to pick him up by the waist after the fifth or sixth time he had tried to wander off. To make matters worse, by the time they got to the warehouses near The Bronze, Xander was quietly arguing with him about something or other. Angel wasn't really paying attention, except to the search time he was loosing, being stuck with these two. That was when his heightened vampire senses heard a muffled cry coming from behind a dumpster. "Shut up," he quietly hissed at Xander. "Hey..." Xander started to say, but stopped after one look at Angel. Angel listened a moment longer then shoved Tas into Xander's arms with a quick, "Here, take him," and silently made his way towards the sound he had heard. Tas, who was currently occupying him self with the silly way things looked while hanging upside-down, became rather disappointed with the world righted itself. "Hey, what happened?" he asked, looking up at Xander. He then noticed Angel sneaking off towards a big, metal bin of some sort. "Where's he going?" Xander absently put a hand over the Kender's mouth as he waited for whatever might happen next. Sure enough, within a few minutes, a girl came running out of the shadows with a hand clasped to her throat and a look of terror on her face. A split second later, a vampire went flying over the dumpster and landed in a heap at Xander's feet. Wasting no time, Xander dropped the Kender, pulled a stake out of his jacket and finished the vamp off. Tas's eyes widened as the dead vampire turned to dust and disintegrated. "Wow!! Can you do that again?" "I'd like to," Xander said, watching Angel walk out from behind the dumpster, "but Buffy would kill me." "That was so neat," Tas exclaimed to Angel. "I've never seen anyone turn to dust before." "Stay with us much longer, and you'll see a whole lot more," Angel said, ignoring the glare he was getting from Xander. "Really?" the Kender gasped. "That would be so much fun! Maybe I could stay here a little longer. I'm sure Caramon and Tanis won't be needing me for a while." Tas's statement sparked a rare moment of agreement between his two companions and the two quickly grabbed Tasslehof and resumed their search pattern. * * * * * Spike swore quietly as he watched the proceedings below from the rooftops. Just his luck that that creature he was looking for had fallen joined up with the slayer and her gang. It just made getting the old bungler sleeping at his place that much harder to get rid of. But, at least he knew where that Tas person was now. That might come in real handy in trying to get Fizban to actually do something. Then again, the old geezer could have forgotten all about it by now. * * * * * The Black Fire | Vote for me in the Site Fights!! Blackfire42@hotmail.com | http://www.thesitefights.com/sarina/nest2.htm http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Shadowlands/4203 "But if they all forget me I will be here anyway, like an artifact of some lost civilization" -Vlad Dracula _The Dracula Tape_ "Don't worry. I'm not here to eat." -- Angel (IG) ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: ~Ripe Wicked Plum~ Subject: BUFFYFIC: SpikeFic: King of the World (1/10) Date: 09 Sep 1998 20:32:19 -0400 Title: King of the World (1/10) Author: ~Ripe Wicked Plum~ a.k.a. Goth Spike (ripe_wicked_plum@hotmail.com) Distribution: Everywhere and anywhere provided my name is left attached and you let me know where it is posted. Description: Spike meets a celebrity on the streets of Sunnydale, wackiness ensues. Rating: Overall, I'd say R for language and violence. Feedback: "Do you like it, Baby?" Disclaimer: Inspired by a thread on the Unholy Allies list. The original idea wasn't mine, but I was the first to do anything with it. The characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer are not my creations. They are the products of Joss Whedon's incredibly vivid imagination. Leo is not mine either. He is the product of our warped society. The man walked down the sidewalk with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He had come to Sunnydale trying to escape his fate. It seemed like everyone in the world wanted a piece of him. He kicked a stone and watched it dance across the street. He didn't see the figure lurking behind him. The figure stayed in the shadows. Watching every move the man made, following him with a lyncean gaze. He struck a match on the side of a building and brought it to the cigarette dangling from his mouth. The warm glow of the flame bottom lit his features, casting wicked shadows onto his face. With white-blonde hair and nice cheekbones, he could have been strikingly handsome, but in this light he looked like a creature of evil. Angular features and a cold glare coming from almost reptilian eyes. Lusus naturae. Freak of nature. Demon. Nosferatu. Vampire. He had many names, including the moniker that he chose to go by, Spike. Spike exhaled the smoke and tossed the smoldering match into a nearby dumpster, igniting its contents. The unmistakable smell of burning flesh and gasoline filled his nostrils and he stepped into the street. Still sizing up the man ahead of him, Spike decided he would be easy pickings. He was so wrapped up in his mortal concerns he didn't even sense his presence. He sped up a bit, his leather trenchcoat swirling around him as he walked. Nearing the man, Spike morphed into human form and spoke, "Wait up, Mate. I want to talk to you." "Leave me alone," came the man's response. "Hey, play nice. That's no way to treat your savior, now, is it?" Spike said, his British voice clipped in annoyance. Who did this bastard think he was anyway? The man stopped in his tracks, "What do you mean? 'My savior'? How are you going to save me?" "Well," Spike began, starting to think this twerp wasn't worth the effort, "I noticed you seem to be 'avin' a rough spot of it. I thought I could help. Be a soundin' board, of sorts. Someone to get blotto with, per'aps?" "Look, 'Mate'," the man said, turning around, revealing an almost cherubic face, that of a boy, not a man at all, "I doubt you could be of any help to me." "You," Spike breathed, recognizing the man. "Oh, God, no. Just leave me alone." "The name's Spike and I'll 'ave none of that 'God' crap," he said, flicking the cigarette to the pavement. "You're that Michaelangelo fellow or whatever, aren't you?" Spike asked, bemused by the change in circumstance. "Leonardo." "Oh, well, whatever. I knew it was one of the Ninja Turtle names," Spike said, chuckling to himself. "OK. OK. What do you want?" Leo asked, expecting a request for an autograph for every member of this guy's family. "I told you," Spike said, putting on his game face. "I want something to drink." ~Ripe Wicked Plum~ <--wondering if she should send the next part -- ICQ UIN=2607806 Goth Spike All hail the Lettuce King! I'm a Spike Girl, ask me how! Spike's Ducks...and proud of it! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: ~Ripe Wicked Plum~ Subject: BUFFYFIC: SpikeFic: King of the World (2/10) Date: 09 Sep 1998 21:41:18 -0400 Here is part 2 by popular demand! Thanks for all the great feedback! Title: King of the World (2/10) Author: ~Ripe Wicked Plum~ a.k.a. Goth Spike (ripe_wicked_plum@hotmail.com) Distribution: Everywhere and anywhere provided my name is left attached and you let me know where it is posted. Description: Spike meets a celebrity on the streets of Sunnydale, wackiness ensues. Rating: Overall, I'd say R for language and violence. Feedback: "Do you like it, Baby?" Disclaimer: Inspired by a thread on the Unholy Allies list. The original idea wasn't mine, but I was the first to do anything with it. The characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer are not my creations. They are the products of Joss Whedon's incredibly vivid imagination. Leo is not mine either. He is the product of our warped society. He tried to scream, but the sound never escaped his throat. Spike shoved a fist in the boy's mouth and dragged him to a black car a few yards away. Throwing him into the back seat, he shut the door, narrowly missing the Leo's hand as he tried to escape. He laughed to himself as he walked around the car. Stepping into the car, he spoke, "I wouldn't try anything like that again, if I were you. Then again, if I were you, I would've 'ad sense enough to not find myself in this situation, so I forbear. It won't do you any good to pull at those, Mate," he said, watching Leo in the rearview, eyeballing the door handles. "I've disconnected them. You can yank on 'em to your mortal heart's content, or rather, in this context, discontent. They won't budge." Leo tried them anyway, panicking. This earned him a hearty laugh from the driver. Enraged, Leo lunged toward the front seat. Spike back-fisted him without so much as a glance, pulling away from the curb. "Y-you, you," the youth sputtered, "you broke my nose!" "Yes, well, that's unfortunate. I was rather hopin' to enjoy that a lot more than I did. You mortals are always in such a rush! No sense of foreplay whatsoever," Spike said, throwing him a handkerchief. "Try to keep the blood off the seat, Mate. I just had the interior cleaned." "'Foreplay'?" Leo asked, his voice cracking with fear. "Oh, for evil's sake, Lad. Relax. I 'ave no desire to stick my knob up your bum. It was just an expression meanin' that you want to rush through the good part and get down to the nasty. I don't work that way. You might as well just sit back and enjoy the trip. It will be your last." He heard a whimper from the backseat and felt a twinge of anticipation. He told himself to calm down and savor the delights to come. He pulled out another cigarette and lit it. Taking a drag off of it, he looked up at Leo in the rearview. "Here, Boy. You need this more than I do," he said, passing it over the seat. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~Ripe Wicked Plum~ <--waiting to hear about whethe you want part 3 or not! -- ICQ UIN=2607806 Goth Spike All hail the Lettuce King! I'm a Spike Girl, ask me how! Spike's Ducks...and proud of it! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: ~Ripe Wicked Plum~ Subject: BUFFYFIC: SpikeFic: King of the World (3/10) Date: 10 Sep 1998 03:14:18 -0400 OK...I will no longer wait to hear the feedback on the fic. It seems most people are enjoying it, so I'll just post it until enough people yell at me to stop posting it!!!! Glad you guys are liking it! ~Ripe Wicked Plum~ Title: King of the World (3/10) Author: ~Ripe Wicked Plum~ a.k.a. Goth Spike (ripe_wicked_plum@hotmail.com) Distribution: Everywhere and anywhere provided my name is left attached and you let me know where it is posted. Description: Spike meets a celebrity on the streets of Sunnydale, wackiness ensues. Rating: Overall, I'd say R for language and violence. Feedback: "Do you like it, Baby?" Disclaimer: Inspired by a thread on the Unholy Allies list. The original idea wasn't mine, but I was the first to do anything with it. The characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer are not my creations. They are the products of Joss Whedon's incredibly vivid imagination. Leo is not mine either. He is the product of our warped society. They rode in silence, Spike smiling to himself all the while. He could taste the fear in the air. Far sweeter than the bugger's blood would be, he wagered. He looked up at the sky. It was a gorgeous night. It seemed a shame to waste it on this wretch. "Are you a fast runner, Lad?" He nodded. "Good. We're goin' t' play a little game. One of my favourites." He continued driving, heading for the cemetery. He spotted a tiny blonde sitting by a grave. He cursed himself silently for not expecting her to be there and let his demonic features soften to human form. He parked the car and turned off the ignition. Casting a glance at the blonde, he stepped onto the grass. He snuck up behind her and kissed her neck. Her hand shot up and over her shoulder, grabbing him and sending him flying forward as she bent over. Landing on the ground in a heap, Spike spoke, "I could've killed you, Slayer." "Maybe, but you didn't. So what's with the kiss?" "Well, Slayer--" he began. "I have a name," she interrupted. "Well, Buffy," he continued, "I just wanted to let you know that, had I wanted to, you would've been a midnight snack." "So why didn't you?" "Well, I have bigger things in store for this evening. I was thinkin' of takin' in a movie. Any suggestions?" She contemplated his tone. It was too calm. She didn't like it. She wondered what he was up to. "Well, Titanic just came out on video. Though, I'm guessing that wouldn't be your thing, right?" she said, giggling silently at the thought of Spike getting all weepy in front of the television. "That sounds like a good one. I always love a good comedy. Disaster films are loads of laughs, y'know? Any other ideas?" "You could make it a Leo night and rent Romeo and Juliet. Though I suppose that would probably remind you too much of your youth." "Ha ha, Slayer. Actually it would remind me too much of you and that nancy-boy Angelus. Star crossed lovers and all that rubbish," he watched her stiffen at the mention of his sire. "Too bad he's in Hell now, isn't it?" "Too bad for you. How is Drusilla getting along these days anyhow? She still angry at you for helping to kill him?" she asked, knowing full well that Dru had left him and headed for Prague. "Touch=E9, Slayer. I'll see you again soon. I think I'll take your advic= e on the Leo thing. Try to see if I can find out what all you schoolgirls see in the lout. Goodnight, then." "I'm sticking around here. I have a newborn vamp to stake. You guys really should learn to just keep them near you. Burying them here is just begging me to dust 'em." "I 'aven't made one recently. Don't look at me. It was probably one of the dim-witted lot Angelus made. They make a lot of mistakes. Their brains are always on feedin' and reproducin'. Much like teenagers. Oh, here's your boy now," he said, as a hand emerged from the soil at Buffy's feet. He grabbed it and yanked the fledgling vamp from the ground. Dusting him off a bit. "Master Spike," he said, recognizing him from the description his sire had given him. "I am honored to have you welcome me to the night." "This one's been readin' too much Anne Rice," Spike said, snapping the vampire's neck. Buffy staked him for good measure and then turned to Spike, "I thought our truce was over? You go back to being a bad guy, I go back to staking you, remember? I can't stake you when you are helping me." "My sentiments exactly. I think you're done here, Slayer. Good guys win, bad guys foiled again," snapping his fingers. "Curses." He looked up at the moon, then back to Buffy, "Time for little girls to be in their little beds before the Bogeyman comes out." Buffy sighed, resigned to kill him another night. She turned and walked from the gravesite back to the car. When he could no longer see her, he opened the door and let Leo out. The boy saw his opportunity and took off running. -- = ICQ UIN=3D2607806 Goth Spike All hail the Lettuce King! I'm a Spike Girl, ask me how! Spike's Ducks...and proud of it! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Aglx@aol.com Subject: BUFFYFIC: Can I love again? (1/1) Date: 10 Sep 1998 15:20:11 EDT Title: Can I love again? (1/1) Author: Aglx@aol.com Distrbution: Please ask. Spoilers: Takes place after Becoming...way after. Rating: G/PG No violence, language or anything. Description: Just a bit on what Buffy writes in her journal. Insomnia. It's dangerous and leads to strange fics. I suffer from it, let's just move on. Disclaimer: Own nothing, but the plot of this story. Don't sue! Feedback: Please? If you do or don't like, please tell me. Tell me if I should stop. This is my first one part fic, so be kind! This is Buffy's POV. Everything is part of a journal entry she writes. September 19, 1999 He sits there in the corner. His face partially darkened by the shadows. He doesn't move, doesn't breath. He watches me attentively and I question what he's thinking. What does he see in me? What is so special about me that would make him defy his entire meaning as a demon to love me? Would the demon inside him ever be able to take control from that tiny bit of humanity that remains within? Would that humanity be strong enough to win control back before it's too late? Would I be forced to kill the one I love? Again? Who would have thought that a Slayer would fall in love with a vampire? Her one chosen enemy whom she is destined to kill. The demon that walks at night and sucks the lives out of the innocent. But then again, I've never followed orders very well. Should I know better? One would think I would have learned my lesson by now. After my first love killed my family and friends, why am I so trusting to one who doesn't have a soul to guide him? I'm questioning my abilities as the Slayer and my judgement as a human being. When Angel returned from Hell, he was...different. Whistler warned me he'd be, disturbed. Well, disturbed was hardly the word. Soul or no soul, he was insane and I made him that way. Before I could even react to the feelings that were ripping apart my heart, he'd taken them all from me. Killed them brutally and put them on display for me to see once I came to my senses. I killed him and left nothing more than a numb feeling in my heart. I had nothing left but my destiny to slay. No watcher, no slayerettes, no mother, no lover. I was alone. I probably made the biggest mistake of my short-termed life, falling in love with a vampire for the second time. But what was I going to do otherwise? Get married, have lots of children and grow old? Never. I'm the Slayer. Trapped in a secret world of demon destruction, that has no way out. I die, someone brings me back. I fall in love, I'm forced to kill him. But every time I look into his icy blue eyes, all my doubts are erased. All I have left is the writing on this paper. I know I don't have a lot of time left. I was born into a life that death surrounds wherever I go. Slayers aren't even supposed to live into their twenties. Shouldn't I enjoy what time I have left? I've saved the world a few times, don't I at least have that privelege? Although I doubt true love is every possible for me again, especially with one who is no longer living, I'm not going to give up on the rest of my life. I've tried that before and it just isn't worth the hassle. I'm the Slayer and no matter what devastating pain it brings me and what it takes away from me, there's no changing that fact. Maybe Spike is right for me. Besides, if it doesn't work out, I can always kill him. Unless, he kills me first. It's not like I have anything to loose. ~End~ I know, I think too much, right? -Michelle ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: NightHunter Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Invasion (2/?) Date: 10 Sep 1998 21:32:56 -0700 Sorry It took so long but here's part 2 Hope to get part 3 up a lot quicker Feedback Please Good or bad The Invasion (2/?) Giles enters the library to find Buffy, Xander & Willow sitting at one end of the table they were waiting for him thought Giles as he moved toward the table. "Hey G-man, what's the evil creature of the week?" Asked Xander turning toward Giles his gaze lingering a few seconds on Buffy. "Well, it looks like it maybe a quite week. No vampire activate for a couple of days, so, why don't you three go have some fun," Said Giles At that Buffy's face hit the floor "WOO HOO!" Yelled Xander jumping up from the table and grabbing the two girls he pulled them toward the door and out of the library. "Xander, slow down" Said Willow "What's the rush?" "Will, G-man just let us have the night off. I'm afraid that if we don't run now he may change his mind." Said Xander "Oh! running is good in fact running fast is better." Replied Willow as the group ran across the school parking lot. Xander arrived at Buffy's house. He started to knock on the door but before he could knock. The door was opened, Xander's mouth hit the ground as Buffy invited him in. She was wearing a low cut strapless, tight fitting black dress. It really made you look. Not that he needed a reason. Because he loved her. "Down boy!" Said Buffy as she reached over to pull Xander in an embrace. Xander reached up to slowly rub his hand over her cheek. For the last few weeks after the battle at the warehouse he and Buffy had been spending more of their free time with each other. "Sorry Buff, but you look great!" Replied Xander "Yah! lets go or we'll be late to meet Willow." Said Buffy slipping her arm through Xander's as they walked to his car. As the car pulled out they felled to notice that a strange vortex was starting to form. As the vortex became stable the first of the vampire soldiers came out, singling the begin of the invasion of our reality. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: ~Ripe Wicked Plum~ Subject: BUFFYFIC: SpikeFic: King of the World (4/10) Date: 10 Sep 1998 22:41:52 -0400 Title: King of the World (4/10) Author: ~Ripe Wicked Plum~ a.k.a. Goth Spike (ripe_wicked_plum@hotmail.com) Distribution: Everywhere and anywhere provided my name is left attached and you let me know where it is posted. Description: Spike meets a celebrity on the streets of Sunnydale, wackiness ensues. Rating: Overall, I'd say R for language and violence. Feedback: "Do you like it, Baby?" Disclaimer: Inspired by a thread on the Unholy Allies list. The original idea wasn't mine, but I was the first to do anything with it. The characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer are not my creations. They are the products of Joss Whedon's incredibly vivid imagination. Leo is not mine either. He is the product of our warped society. Spike stepped up to an imaginary mark in the grass and spoke, "Ready. Steady. Go," he said, taking off into the night, "and they're off. It's Prettyboy in the lead with Fangs bringin' up the rear. What's this? Could it be? Yes, folks, it looks like Spike is gettin' a second wind. He's comin' up hard and fast on the young upstart." Spike tackled Leo, finishing his commentary, "Proving, yet again, that old age and experience beats youth and exuberance. When will they learn?" Leo grunted underneath him, trying to throw him off. "What's that, Mate? You want me to get off of you? That wouldn't be much fun, now, would it?" he asked. "You're fucking insane." "No, not anymore. We broke up. Thank you so much for bringin' it up. What is it with everyone and Dru tonight?" "Dru?" Leo asked, confused. "My ex. A real loony, that one. Mad as a hatter. Bloody hell, I miss 'er." "She probably left because she found out you were a monster." "Actually, she left because I helped to kill a guy she was cheatin' on me with," he paused, jerking Leo off the ground, "and kept 'em from destroyin' the world. If you think I'm a monster, you should've seen the other guy." "He had to be better than you. I mean, he was more important than you to her." "You're really startin' t' believe what they write about you in the papers, aren't you? 'Hero', 'heartthrob', all that jazz? Let me tell you somethin' right now, you bloody twerp. You 'aven't a ghost of a clue what real heroes are all about. You don't know the first thing about what makes women tick either. Dru was one of those crazies who like to be treated like an inferior. She wanted someone who would use 'er and abuse 'er. That was Angelus. Me, on the other hand, I couldn't toss 'er aside to chase after someone who hated me. I put Dru up on a bloody pedestal, treated 'er like a goddess. She was my princess." Leo just looked at him. Staring, dumbly, at the beast that held his future in gloved hands. "What the fuck do you care about where I'm wettin' my wick, anyhow?" Spike asked, genuinely curious. "I was just making conversation," Leo said, hoping he hadn't angered him too much. "You were just hopin' I would get so wrapped up in my own concerns that I'd let you go. Not bloody likely, Mate. I'd start prayin' to that god of yours. It's gonna be a long night," Spike said, dragging him back to the car. -- ICQ UIN=2607806 Goth Spike All hail the Lettuce King! I'm a Spike Girl, ask me how! Spike's Ducks...and proud of it! President and founder of the Leo is a Bloody Whelp Club ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: ~Ripe Wicked Plum~ Subject: BUFFYFIC: SpikeFic: King of the World (5/10) Date: 12 Sep 1998 02:22:39 -0400 Title: King of the World (5/10) Author: ~Ripe Wicked Plum~ a.k.a. Goth Spike (ripe_wicked_plum@hotmail.com) Distribution: Everywhere and anywhere provided my name is left attached and you let me know where it is posted. Description: Spike meets a celebrity on the streets of Sunnydale, wackiness ensues. Rating: Overall, I'd say R for language and violence. Feedback: "Do you like it, Baby?" Disclaimer: Inspired by a thread on the Unholy Allies list. The original idea wasn't mine, but I was the first to do anything with it. The characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer are not my creations. They are the products of Joss Whedon's incredibly vivid imagination. Leo is not mine either. He is the product of our warped society. "Home rancid home," Spike said, opening the door to an abandoned church and throwing Leo to the floor. "I'll give you whatever you want. Money, women, fame, anything you--" "'Look, Mate,'" Spike said, recalling Leo's words when they first met, "'I doubt you could be of any help to me.' As for money, I could buy and sell you three times over. As far as women are concerned, the kind of women I like would tear your heart out and shove it down your throat. Fame? Doesn't interest me. Infamy, now THAT is somethin' t' shoot for." "What do you want then?" Leo asked, hoping for a good answer. "We've already covered this, Boy. You. Dead. Are you gettin' a word picture, 'ere?" He looked up through the window and saw the sky growing lighter. It was almost sunrise. Spike grabbed some rope from the altar. Holding it up he motioned for Leo to join him. The boy hesitated and Spike wasted no time in convincing him. "Come on now. We wouldn't want to make the big, mean man angry, would we? Come and take it like a man. The longer you keep me waitin', the longer I keep you screamin'." "What are you going to do to me?" Leo asked, slowly walking in Spike's direction. Spike groaned in exasperation, "I hate it when my meals try to get all chatty with me. Makes me want to rip their throats out," he paused, glaring at Leo, "twice." Dragging Leo with him, he headed to a door across the room. Spike opened it and pushed the boy down the stairs. Leo landed on the concrete floor of the basement with a thud. This stunned him momentarily and Spike took the opportunity to move him over to the wall. Running the rope through a couple of light fixtures, he tied each end to one of Leo's wrists. Slapping the boy to bring him back to reality, Spike crossed the room. Another vampire appeared from the shadows. Spike whispered orders to him and then turned to face Leo. "This here's Stephen. He'll be takin' care of you while I sleep. Give him problems and I'll hear about it," he said, turning to Stephen. "Kill 'im and I'll 'ave your blood for breakfast." "Yes, milord. I'll do as you've instructed. Nothing more, nothing less." Spike touched the vamp's face, tracing the contour of his jaw. He looked into his eyes and slapped him hard. "Thank you, Sir," Stephen said, his undead skin on fire from the blow. Spike looked at Leo, "Good help is so 'ard to find these days. If you need anything, just scream. He won't come runnin'. Night-night, Lad," Spike said, chuckling as he walked from the room. "What are you going to do to me?" Leo asked, trying to see Stephen's face in the half-light of the room. Stephen stepped into the light, his true nature revealed. He licked the side of the boy's face. "Just watch you. He gets to have all the fun. I have to make sure that you're ready for it." "Ready? Ready how?" "You'll see," he answered, turning on a television directly across from where Leo was tied. He put a tape in the VCR and pushed play. The first few strains of "The March for the Funeral of Queen Mary" could be heard as Spike settled in for a day of sleep. -- ICQ UIN=2607806 Goth Spike All hail the Lettuce King! I'm a Spike Girl, ask me how! Spike's Ducks...and proud of it! President and founder of the Leo is a Bloody Whelp Club ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: ~Ripe Wicked Plum~ Subject: BUFFYFIC: SpikeFic: King of the World (6/10) Date: 12 Sep 1998 18:16:16 -0400 Title: King of the World (6/10) Author: ~Ripe Wicked Plum~ a.k.a. Goth Spike (ripe_wicked_plum@hotmail.com) Distribution: Everywhere and anywhere provided my name is left attached and you let me know where it is posted. Description: Spike meets a celebrity on the streets of Sunnydale, wackiness ensues. Rating: Overall, I'd say R for language and violence. Feedback: "Do you like it, Baby?" Disclaimer: Inspired by a thread on the Unholy Allies list. The original idea wasn't mine, but I was the first to do anything with it. The characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer are not my creations. They are the products of Joss Whedon's incredibly vivid imagination. Leo is not mine either. He is the product of our warped society. Spike woke up and slid off of his bed, a stack of flattened boxes. He picked his clothes off the floor and dressed slowly. After a hundred years of waking up next to Dru, it didn't feel right to wake up alone. He always expected to see her lying next to him, her hair fanned out on her pillow. He wanted to smell her again. To hear her frail voice call his name. He heard a scream from the other room and it snapped him out of his reverie. He had a little punk to torture. The thought brought a smile to his face. He would kill the bugger for Dru. She would be pleased. He pulled his coat on and stepped into the adjoining room. Leo stood, still tied to the wall, and turned as he heard Spike enter the room. "'Welly, welly, welly, welly, welly, welly, well,'" Spike quoted, looking at the boy. "Aren't you a pitiful sight? How is my little ravin? I bet you're 'alf-starved. Stephen, go find the lad somethin' to eat. There's got to be somethin' 'round 'ere." The vampire left the room and Spike looked at the television. There was an autopsy video playing. He stopped the tape, muttering something about it making him hungry. "Why all the videos?" Leo asked. "Well, it's a good way to get your mind churnin' 'bout all the things I could do to you," Spike said, watching the boy swallow hard. "I see it worked. A Clockwork Orange was for fun," he said, motioning to the first video that Leo had been forced to watch. "The Faces of Death vids were for shock value." Stephen returned with an apple from a tree outside, a cup of water, and a container of communion wafers. He walked over to Spike who pushed him in Leo's direction. "Not me, you fool, Little Lord Fauntleroy over there. Untie 'im and leave us. Go get somethin' to eat or find somethin' useful to do." Stephen did as ordered then left his master and his captive. Leo rubbed his wrists. The rope had rubbed him raw in a few places. It stung, but he wouldn't give Spike the satisfaction of seeing that. He looked at the food in front of him, hungrily. "Go ahead and eat, Lad," Spike paused, "before I change my mind." Leo picked up the food and ate ravenously. Spike sat back and watched him, amused, until a hunger pang hit him. He waited until the boy was finished before tying him back up and pushing play on the VCR. The autopsy footage started again and Leo looked ill. "Be back in a few, Mate. Got to get somethin' of my own to eat," he said, walking up the stairs. -- ICQ UIN=2607806 Goth Spike All hail the Lettuce King! I'm a Spike Girl, ask me how! Spike's Ducks...and proud of it! President and founder of the Leo is a Bloody Whelp Club ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: ~Ripe Wicked Plum~ Subject: BUFFYFIC: SpikeFic: King of the World (7/10) Date: 12 Sep 1998 21:40:53 -0400 Title: King of the World (7/10) Author: ~Ripe Wicked Plum~ a.k.a. Goth Spike (ripe_wicked_plum@hotmail.com) Distribution: Everywhere and anywhere provided my name is left attached and you let me know where it is posted. Description: Spike meets a celebrity on the streets of Sunnydale, wackiness ensues. Rating: Overall, I'd say R for language and violence. Feedback: "Do you like it, Baby?" Disclaimer: Inspired by a thread on the Unholy Allies list. The original idea wasn't mine, but I was the first to do anything with it. The characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer are not my creations. They are the products of Joss Whedon's incredibly vivid imagination. Leo is not mine either. He is the product of our warped society. He dropped the still warm corpse at his feet and wiped the blood from his mouth. He got a rush of a fuzzy feeling and blinked, trying to clear his head. "Sod it all," he cursed, "I didn't even notice she was high. That's what I get for feeding off of a bloody hooker." He staggered a bit and leaned up against a building for support. He heard footsteps and a voice. "Val? Val? Is that you? What's wrong with--" the woman's question cut short by Spike. He sank his fangs in deep and let her blood come into him. Waves of good, strong, sober blood. Dropping her body on her friend's, he walked away in a much clearer state. There was a rumble of thunder over the sounds of the night. He looked to the sky and saw lightning streaking in and among the clouds. It was to be a stormy night. He was happy he had entertainment waiting for him. He picked up his pace a bit as excitement hit him. With his eyes closed to avoid looking at the television, Leo could hear Spike before he could see him. He was whistling a happy tune and walking with his typical cocky gait. Leo forced himself to open his eyes. Spike was just reaching the foot of the stairs. He tossed a bag to the floor by the television and went back to his bedroom. Returning with a sack full of clanking metal, he spoke. "'Ave you ever watched your own movies, Mate?" "Yeah. Premiers and stuff." "Never just for the hell of it? To impress a piece of ass?" "No." "Pity. I rented a couple of your movies tonight. I forgot the popcorn, you'll 'ave to forgive me." Spike ejected the Faces of Death tape and replaced it with Titanic. He walked over to Leo, trying to contain his excitement. Leo cringed as much as his bonds would let him. Spike touched his face with mock tenderness before slamming his fist in the boy's stomach. "Time for things to get interesting, Baby." -- ICQ UIN=2607806 Goth Spike All hail the Lettuce King! I'm a Spike Girl, ask me how! Spike's Ducks...and proud of it! President and founder of the Leo is a Bloody Whelp Club ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: ~Ripe Wicked Plum~ Subject: BUFFYFIC: SpikeFic: King of the World (8/10) Date: 13 Sep 1998 19:54:43 -0400 Title: King of the World (8/10) Author: ~Ripe Wicked Plum~ a.k.a. Goth Spike (ripe_wicked_plum@hotmail.com) Distribution: Everywhere and anywhere provided my name is left attached and you let me know where it is posted. Description: Spike meets a celebrity on the streets of Sunnydale, wackiness ensues. Rating: Overall, I'd say R for language and violence. Feedback: "Do you like it, Baby?" Disclaimer: Inspired by a thread on the Unholy Allies list. The original idea wasn't mine, but I was the first to do anything with it. The characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer are not my creations. They are the products of Joss Whedon's incredibly vivid imagination. Leo is not mine either. He is the product of our warped society. Leo tried to double over, but the ropes held him. He stood open to any possible attack. He started to realize the magnitude of the situation he was in. He saw the sheer joy on Spike's face and it almost made him sick. The creep was enjoying this. If he weren't so scared, he would have been infuriated. Spike loved the look of pain he saw on the boy's face. He wished Dru could be there to see it. Thinking about her made him angry. How dare Angelus try to take her away? He punched Leo again, picturing his sire's face. He slapped Leo and poked him here and there. The next time he looked up at the television, Leo's character was dressed in a tuxedo. "Look at you. All tarted up," he said, gesturing to the screen. "That's a far cry from the way you look now. I'd like to see what all those teeny-boppers would think of the new and improved Leo." Spike picked up the sack he had brought into the room. Leo looked on, his head drooping in pain. He saw his captor pull a metal spike out of the bag. "Did I ever tell you how I got my nickname?" Spike asked. Leo shook his head. "Boy, as long as you still 'ave a tongue you might as well use it." "No, you didn't." "Good. You're smarter than you look," Spike said, holding up a railroad spike. "This," he said, crossing over to Leo, "is how I got my name." Almost as the period at the end of the sentence, Spike stabbed through Leo's left hand, pinning it to the wall. Leo shrieked in pain. "Oh, good," Spike said, a wicked grin spreading across his face, "a screamer. I like that." "You asshole!" Leo screamed through clenched teeth. "What did you call me?" "You heard me." "No, I don't think I did. I heard someone call me an asshole. I know that wasn't you. Your wrinkleys aren't that big." "Asshole!" "You insolent bastard," Spike said, kicking him in the skin. "You bloody whelp," he said, stabbing through his other hand. Leo did his best to breathe through the pain, but it was too much. He blacked out. Spike slapped him hard across the face, bringing him to. "Who the bloody hell is 'king of the world' now?" he yelled in the boy's face. Will send the last two parts when I finish moving!!! ~Ripe Wicked Plum~ -- ICQ UIN=2607806 Goth Spike All hail the Lettuce King! I'm a Spike Girl, ask me how! Spike's Ducks...and proud of it! President and founder of the Leo is a Bloody Whelp Club ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Black Fire" Subject: BUFFYFIC: Kender Chaos (11/?) Date: 14 Sep 1998 12:04:17 PDT Title: Kender Chaos Author: Black Fire Email:Blackfire42@hotmail.com Feedback: Yes, please. Rating: PG Spoilers: Buffy: Anything before WML1 Dragonlance: Chronicles and Legends Trilogies. Disclaimers: I own neither sets of characters and I can't afford to either. Summary: Tasslehoff Burrfoot and Fizban the Fabulous have found their way to Sunnydale. Kender Chaos Chapter 11 The search parties met up behind The Bronze three hours later. No one had found anything of interest... well, except for Cordelia, who found a dress she wanted and Tasslehof, who never failed to find anything of interest. As soon as Tas saw Buffy, he wriggled out of Angel's grasp and ran up to her, wide-eyed as a little kid. "Hi, Buffy," he said in his squeaky, little voice. "Say, did you know that there are these creatures here that turn to dust when you stab them?" "Buffy quickly looked around to make sure no one else was around. "Yeah, there's lots of those around here." She then looked up at Angel, "Anything major?" "Just someone out for a quick snack a few blocks from here," he shrugged. "Xander and I took care of him." "That's so wonderful," Tas exclaimed. "I've never seen anyone turn to dust before. Well, except for those draconians who turn to stone and then fall apart. But that's about it. And then, there are the draconians who explode! Those are great fun... well, except for the person who kills them." Tas prattled on, unheeded while the others tried to figure out what their next course of action was. With the night already half over, there wasn't much else they could try. Unable to come up with any ideas, the group started on the return journey to Buffy's house. About half way home, Willow turned to ask the Kender about something, only to find that he wasn't following them. "Uh guys..." Willow said, nervously, "where's Tas?" The rest turned and did a quick scan of the area. He was no where to be seen. "Oh no..." Buffy groaned, rubbing a hand over her face. * * * * * Tasslehof had every intention of going home with Buffy and the rest of the group. He really did, honest! But as he turned to follow the others, one of those wonderful self-moving vehicles caught his eye. Promising himself that he'd only be gone for a moment, just long enough to get a better look at the contraption, he walked over to the car. He tried the door... locked! How rude of them! And the lock was of a kind he had never seen before. Taking this as a new challenge, Tas reached into the pocket of his vest and pulled out the lock picks that were the birthright of every Kender. Selecting a pick, he set to work. This lock was harder to pick than most others, but after a few minutes, the lock turned and the door opened. Climbing into the vehicle, Tas marveled at all the wondrous buttons and knobs. He pushed and turned each one, but nothing made the car go. Growing bored, Tas leapt out of the car and set off in the direction the others had taken. That's when another idea took hold of him. In his fascination with this new world he was in, he had neglected to map it! Quickly, he sat down under a street lamp, pulled a blank parchment out of his scroll case and set to work mapping what he had seen so far. He was totally engrossed in his artwork, when a shadow moved in front of his light. "That's odd," he mumbled, staring at the shadow of a head. That covered his new map. Tas looked up and into the face of a man with light hair, dressed in black leather standing over him. "Oh, hello!" "Well, hello yourself," the man said in an accented voice, smiling slightly. "Now what have we here?" "Oh!!" Tas gasped, quickly putting away his map and standing up. "I didn't introduce myself. Tasslehoff Burrfoot!" Tas extended his hand to the man in greeting. The man took the had slowly, smiling to himself. "I had a feeling that was who you were," he said. "Really?" Tas asked, his eyes widening. "Yes, A friend of yours has been looking for you," the man said. "Then Fizban really is here!!" the Kender beamed. "Wonderful! I'll be able to go home now. Where is he?" "I can take you to him," the man said. "Why how nice of you!" Tas said. "Let's go then." He started off and then stopped. "Oh! I should probably tell my friend Buffy where I'm going." "Oh, don't worry about it, it's been taken care of." "Okay then," Tas said after a moment's thought, "Let's go then... what was your name?" "Spike," the man said. "What an unusual name," Tas frowned. "It sounds familiar... oh well, let's go." Thinking that this was easier than he had thought it would be, Spike lead the Kender back to the warehouse. * * * * * The Black Fire | Vote for me in the Site Fights!! Blackfire42@hotmail.com | http://www.thesitefights.com/sarina/nest2.htm http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Shadowlands/4203 "But if they all forget me I will be here anyway, like an artifact of some lost civilization" -Vlad Dracula _The Dracula Tape_ "Don't worry. I'm not here to eat." -- Angel (IG) ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: sah Subject: BUFFYFIC: ADMIN: List rules Date: 15 Sep 1998 17:21:38 -0400 (EDT) Welcome! This list is for fiction related to "Buffy The Vampire Slayer," both the TV series and the movie. To ensure that we all get to enjoy as much fiction as possible, please adhere to the following guidelines, and please save them for future reference. 1. Fiction should have Buffy characters in it and clearly be related to Buffy. Crossovers are great, and expected, but general vampire/monster stories that aren't in the Buffy universe and don't use Buffy characters belong somewhere else. 2. Discussion of posted fiction is permitted onlist. Please put "DISCUSS" in your subject line. Requests for missing story parts should go directly to the author, and not be posted to the list. Discussion that is not related directly to the fiction should go over to the general Buffy list. Discussion of fiction is expected to follow common netiquette guidelines and use PG-13 language. 3. No advertising of items or services, Buffy related or not, and no posting of non-story items such as .gifs, sound files, etc.. No attached files of kind-- if your mailer makes your fiction into attached files, you need to find another way to get it to the list. 4. If you're writing a story and including advance information on a new episode, and you're posting your story earlier than the national viewing time, please: **Mark the post as a "spoiler" in the subject header. **Leave about twelve lines (blank or with non-spoiler info) at the top of the post. This ensures that anyone who doesn't like knowing about an episode ahead of time is "protected." :) The blank space is for people whose mailers automatically open up the next piece of mail, without giving them a chance to see "spoiler" in the header. Spoiler warnings are not necessary after the start of the episode's national viewing time, which is currently set at 9 p.m. Mondays, Eastern Standard Time. Spoiler warnings are not necessary for reruns. 5. This list is absolutely NOT for erotic fiction. stronger than sexually PG-13 material is to be posted to the list under any circumstances. A story may be R rated for violence or language, however. If you have a question about something's suitability for posting, feel free to ask one of the listowners. Sending sexually explicit material will get you immediately and permanently unsubscribed. No exceptions. 6. By subscribing and/or posting to this list, you acknowledge that Buffy the Vampire slayer and all characters associated with either the televised series or the motion picture were created by Josh Whedon and are owned by Mutant Enemy productions, Kuzui Productions, Sandollar Productions, and 20th Century Fox. All stories posted to this list are for entertainment purposes only, are not sold for profit of any kind, and are not intended to infringe on any copyrights. 7. When posting stories to the list, please follow the following formatting guidelines --No story parts longer than 250 lines --No lines longer than 75 characters --Turn off your "smart quotes"-- many readers receive these as garbage or weird symbols --Put the title of the story in the subject header, indicate if it's a multipart story, and if so what part this is. Example: Buffy Meets Godzilla (2/65) indicates that this post is part two of a 65 part story. 8. If a story is rated "R" for language/violence, indicate this in an introduction. For example, "There's a really bloody fight scene at the end of this part" or "if you don't like dismemberment, stop reading now!" If there's chance that someone might be disturbed by something in your story (even if it's not rated R) please include some kind of warning up front. 9. And last, but not least, the listowners reserve the right to deny subscription (new, renewed, or continued) to the list for any individual(s). PLEASE NOTE: not following any or all of these rules will get you the following: **First offense: offender is unsubscribed for one week. **Second offense: offender is unsubscribed to the Buffyfic list for a minimum of three months. **If the offender returns and does it again, they're offlist permanently. As noted above, posting sexually explicit material is the exception -- you go straight to permanent unsubbing. Again, welcome! If you have any questions about these rules, please contact either one of us offlist. If you have subscription problems or questions, the fastest way to get help is to e-mail one of us at the addresses below, at the kirby@xmission.com addy which is the "official" e-mail owner of the list. Jill Kirby (jtkirby@mcs.com) & Sharon Himmanen (romana@mindspring.com) Listowners, Buffy the Vampire Slayer Fiction List buffyfic@xmission.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: sah Subject: BUFFYFIC: ADMIN: Free email policy Date: 15 Sep 1998 17:21:36 -0400 (EDT) Please read this. It's very important. Effective immediately, anyone who wishes to s*bscribe to any Buffy list on a "freemail" account (Geocities, Hotmail, etc.) will be required to provide us with a "permanent" e-mail address as a backup. We will under any circumstances reveal this permanent e-mail address to anyone. This is for our reference This new policy has become necessary because of the problems we've experienced with freemail accounts. They're too easy to set up and cancel, and there is so little recourse if the individual with the freemail account causes problems, that we have no choice but to enact this policy. The s*bscription information pages will be changed to reflect this policy. IF YOU ARE CURRENTLY S*BSCRIBED UNDER A FREEMAIL ADDRESS: as long as you stay s*bscribed, you do not need to provide us with this information. However, if you uns*b and want to res*b at some point, you will have to give us this information even if you were previously a s*bscriber through a freemail account. If we have to uns*b you for bouncing mail, again, you'll have to provide the information to res*b. If you have any questions regarding this, please contact us offlist. Thanks. sah and Jill romana@mindspring.com and jtkirby@mcs.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Cutter Kinseeker" Subject: BUFFYFIC: Xander's Incredible Journey (5d/?) Date: 17 Sep 1998 12:56:42 PDT TITLE: "Xander's Incredible Journey" AUTHOR: Cutter Kinseeker E-MAIL: ckinseeker@hotmail.com FEEDBACK: Yes! Yes! Yes! Tell me what you think, but constructive criticism only please. No "it sucks" type messages. DISTRIBUTION: Ask me first. RATING: Mostly PG-13 for language and adult themes. A couple of parts will be R. DESCRIPTION: In the aftermath of "Becoming," Xander sets out after Buffy and winds up "becoming" in his own right. This part describes Oz's personal problems, and how he deals with them. DISCLAIMER: I don't own jack. Correction--jack's probably the only thing I do own. The rest belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and the Frog Network. SPOILERS: Everything up to "Becoming". S S P P O A I C L E E R Chapter Five First Interlude *...In which Giles is rebuked by his Superior, Willow faces her Fears, Buffy runs from hers, Oz overcomes his Weakness, and two mysterious Strangers appear...* Part Four: Oz *...In which Oz overcomes his Weakness...* Long before Oz became a werewolf, he had been a lead guitarist, and in his mind, whenever he thought about himself, he was still a lead guitarist. The werewolf thing was always secondary; it was something that was a part of him, not who he was--a piece, not the whole. The biggest piece of Oz's life, however, was his rig--rig*s*, technically, since he owned three guitars, two electric and one acoustic. Oz had loved music as long as he could remember, and that love had been transmuted into a physical thing when he learned to play the guitar at age eight. To this day, when he picked up a guitar and began to play, he still got that little shiver of excitement he had felt when he first realized that the guitar wasn't making the music--he was. His parents (to whom he was, and probably always would be, "Osgood") seemed much younger than they were, but in truth they were a good deal older than most of his (few) friends' parents. He had never heard an exact figure quoted, but they claimed to have met at Woodstock and gotten married on the day Nixon was impeached. Former "flower children" and current "new agers," his parents had been extremely liberal for as long as he could remember. When he acted up as a child, rather than punish him, they would explain the consequences of his actions and compliment him on his individuality. After his sister was born, they got slightly stricter, but only slightly and only to protect them both from his sister's fiery temper. Contrasted with Oz's mellow, easygoing nature, she was a devil-child, but their parents never once lost their cool with her or him. Growing up in such a supportive and broad-minded environment, Oz came to accept and tolerate a vast spectrum of beliefs. His mellow seeming was actually a result of this open-mindedness; being open to just about anything made you hard to surprise or upset. His father's light interest in the guitar--which probably started because everyone could play the guitar in the Sixties--had gotten him started at a young age, and nobody was happier than Oz that he turned out to have some amount of talent. A series of lucky (and not-so-lucky) breaks had led Oz to hooking up with a little band called The Dingoes Ate My Baby and becoming best friends with its lead singer, Devon (which is a complete story in and of itself, and not to be discussed herein). As it would turn out, the easy discipline he had lived his life by--first as a new age child, then as the lead guitarist of an actual band--would come in extremely handy later in life. Apparently, the gene for the disease of lycanthropy ran strong in his family, and his cousin Jordy was one of them. When the cute little tyke chomped Oz's finger, he passed the disease on, and the rest was history. Oz's considerable mental endurance was a blessing with a disease such as lycanthropy which usually altered its victims' mental state, giving them a false sense of power and the delusion that their condition was a blessing. His calmness had also helped him in another way; werewolves don't just change at the full moon, as Giles and the gang had surmised, but also shifted whenever they lost control of their darker emotions. He hadn't had the heart to tell them; besides which, it was a moot point--Oz didn't get angry. As far as Oz was concerned, he was still just a normal human being with a serious disability--but a disability that he could live with. His strength of will and inability to be surprised had even given him some slight control over the beast in recent transformations, though he was still unwilling to go unchained during the three nights of the full moon. And he did have to admit, being a werewolf was handy in certain instances: he didn't have to carry out the trash one week a month, he had privacy when he needed it, and he had gotten a bigger room in the last six months--okay, it was the basement of his house, but a bigger room is a bigger room. By that same token, however, he had developed a whole new slew of problems: he had to make excuses for showing up all over Sunnydale naked, he couldn't practice *or* play gigs three nights of the month, and his kid sister kept bugging him to bite her; he figured it was only a matter of time before there were two werewolves chained up in their house during the full moon. At least his parents had been okay with it; it seemed they had known something about this whole "Mouth of Hell"/"mystical convergence" business all along and just never thought to tell him; rather, they had considered telling him, but didn't think he would believe them. And then there was his biggest problem of all: Willow. He loved her dearly, and he thought she felt the same about him (though who can tell with women), but she was the only thing that could frustrate or surprise him; that made him nervous. Also, there was that "werewolves and sexual heat" thing. Recently, he had felt their relationship heading in a new and unprecedented direction, and the last several times they had been alone together it was all they could do to keep from tearing each others' clothes off. Less than a week before Willow's injury, they had been making out leisurely in Oz's van when he had felt the change begin, his teeth sharpen, his mind start to falter. He had only just managed to retain control, and missed biting Willow by the slimmest of margins. He had explained his reaction as "moving too fast" and Willow seemed to accept that, but he knew that they couldn't keep this sort of thing up much longer. To burn off his frustration and some of his pent-up sexual energy, he had turned to his first passion: the guitar. His practice sessions had become more frequent and more intense, not to mention longer and longer; earlier this week, he had somehow managed to waste an entire night trying to perfect the new song he had written--a song about Willow, no less--but found that part of the song was completely beyond even his not-inconsiderable talents. Since that night, his passion, his driving force, had taken on a new form: the quest for an E-Flat Diminished Ninth. He would spend hours on end looking for the elusive chord, trying new positions for his fingers, building flexibility, doing all he could to prove that he was worthy of the song. In his mind, the quest for the chord had become synonymous with his quest for control over his transformations, over himself. Then, two nights ago, a setback had occurred. While he was struggling for the proper grip, he had for the first time in a long time become angry. His level of fury surprised and terrified him; though it was directed more at himself than at his guitar, by the time he regained control, he had already partially wolfed-out and shredded the poor, helpless rig. It had so disturbed him that he confined himself to bed for the entire following day and refused to even touch a guitar the following night. The compulsion he had built into himself, however, had proven far too strong for even his willpower to bear. The siren song of his guitar called out to him, daring him to try again, to fling himself at the rocky atoll that was the E-Flat Diminished Ninth--and to make it ashore or be destroyed on the rocks. In the end, his first passion had become his ruling one--a pale substitute for Willow, he realized, but a slightly safer one for the both of them. As he began to play, he enforced the Zen-like calm he had become so adept at over the years and simply refused to think about what he was doing. At first, he fumbled over the first few bars of one of the mellower songs from The Cure, but in no time flat he was randomly zig-zagging from the blues-style rock of John Fogerty all the way to the other end of the spectrum with power chords in the manner of "Helter Skelter" and "Back In Black." His fingers blurred up and down the strings with an endurance and agility he had never known before. He almost started to analyze it, but he tripped over a note, making a terrible cacophony, and forced himself back into the "do or do not, there is no try" mindset he had been in for--he glanced at the clock, subconsciously registering the time--almost the entire day. While he played, thoughts gradually came back; they were disconnected and floating, almost like the one time he had tried marijuana, but without the messy aftermath. His thoughts flowed, merged, crossed, and headed apart on eternal tangents. For the first time ever, Oz and the music were truly one. In his lack of concern, he had found a greater peace and wholeness than he had ever known. Nothing, he thought, could possibly compare to this freedom. Then Willow entered his mind again, and he knew he had been mistaken: one thing could compare. Shifting from the loud, brassy arrogance of AC/DC to the milder, but more sorrowful and bittersweet tune he had written in honor of the love of his life, Oz changed chords so fast that he nearly took off the tip of his left index finger. There was pain now, and a little blood on the strings; that was okay, it just made them slicker and easier to play. The scent of blood--coppery and strong--was almost overpowering, but he blanked it out of his mind. The pain was strong, too; checking quickly, he found that he had mild friction burns over most of the skin on his hands and forearms and that even the calluses he had built up in a decade of playing hadn't prevented him from various cuts and scrapes. But none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered now was the song; he smiled vaguely for a moment as the slightly ludicrous thought that he had never titled it occurred to him. He continued to play, clearing his mind of all concerns. Oz didn't even realize it, but he was mumbling the lyrics as he played; he had never been very confident of his skills as a vocalist and avoided singing with the Dingoes whenever he could. Had Willow been there, she might have marveled at how much better his singing voice was than how he had described it to her; but she wasn't, so she didn't see what happened next. None saw that--not even Oz himself, really. As Oz played, his mind a clean slate, the change began. His muscles bulked, barely noticeable at first, only to become thick and bunched; his teeth elongated, cutting his lips as he unknowingly mumbled song lyrics; fur began to sprout on his body; his ears pointed and lengthened; his hands started to twist into claws. And then an amazing--almost impossible--thing happened: the transformation stopped halfway, and reversed itself, healing many of Oz's wounds as it receded. Oz finally became conscious of what was transpiring, but in his mentally dulled state it registered as something far away, as though it were occurring to a total stranger. His fingers, caught somewhere between human and animal digits, never ceased their relentless working of the strings and frets; indeed, they moved faster and slower, speeding and delaying in time with Oz's internal beat. Then, as he neared the end of the song, it became time for his crowning achievement... if he could do it. Oz's half-human hands crept toward the chord, almost leisurely, and twisted the strings into the shape of the do-able E-Flat. His other hand, as near-monstrous as the first, plucked the proper notes that would end the song. With a flourish that was completely unnecessary, Oz's left hand pulled the E-Flat out of place, sliding to the ninth fret and reforming. In a move that was so smooth it astounded even him, it happened. E-Flat Diminished Ninth. As the final notes faded into silence, Oz collapsed to the basement floor, his aching hands clutching the guitar like it was his last anchor to reality. Gradually, the partial transformation faded and his hands returned to normal--hurting, but human. When Oz's senses returned, he found that he was weeping. Searching his heart, he realized that he was not weeping for the chord or the song--they were good, but any musician could have accomplished them eventually. He was weeping for himself, for his happiness. After all, the chord he had been so passionate about was really just a symbol to him, a symbol of his own level of control and restraint. The E-Flat Diminished Ninth had been a test--a test he had no choice but to pass if he and Willow could ever truly mean anything to one another. Oz stood slowly, the pain from his frantic playing dull and throbbing now. But despite the pain, he was glad, for now he knew that he was truly capable of mastering himself and his emotions, that he had a discipline that no passion--save only one--could ever break. And when his last passion broke his control, he knew, even then he would not release that final mental floodgate that could harm someone he loved more than life itself. And now, when Willow decided that they were ready, they would take that final step into the realm of relationships, taking the step that both had dreamed of for what seemed like forever. He had beaten passion at its own game, overcome his weakness, even conquered his terrible disability. And he had done it with a song in his heart. END CHAPTER FIVE, PART FOUR ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Cutter Kinseeker" Subject: BUFFYFIC: Xander's Incredible Journey (5e/?) Date: 17 Sep 1998 12:58:00 PDT TITLE: "Xander's Incredible Journey" AUTHOR: Cutter Kinseeker E-MAIL: ckinseeker@hotmail.com FEEDBACK: Yes! Yes! Yes! Tell me what you think, but constructive criticism only please. No "it sucks" type messages. DISTRIBUTION: Ask me first. RATING: Mostly PG-13 for language and adult themes. A couple of parts will be R. DESCRIPTION: In the aftermath of "Becoming," Xander sets out after Buffy and winds up "becoming" in his own right. This part deals with a pair of strangers who show up in Hell to offer an exiled demon lord a deal he can't refuse. DISCLAIMER: I don't own jack. Correction--jack's probably the only thing I do own. The rest belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and the Frog Network. SPOILERS: Everything up to "Becoming". S S P P O A I C L E E R Part Five: Ennumu *...In which two mysterious Strangers appear...* Hell was an unpleasant place to be at any time of the year, but summer was especially bad. Time in Hell flowed at a congruous pace with that of Earth, so for three "months" of the "year," Hell was even hotter than usual--and if the heat didn't get to you, the humidity would. Of course, the passing of seasons, even that of years, was all an illusion created by the demon lords for their own sick amusement; thus, while it might get hotter in summer in the parts of Hell that were already hot, the only places that got any colder in winter were those that were already cold. Spring and autumn brought their own terrors as well, as did any other particular day that caught the demon lords' attention for whatever reason. As has been said, Hell is never a pleasant place to visit--and no one in their right mind would ever want to live there. Fortunately (for the sake of the realtors, so they would have something to do in the afterlife), there were all sorts of not-right types that wanted their own plot right on the shores of the Lake of Fire, or in Abbathor's icy ambiance (great ice-fishing, but the climate sucks), or right in the limits of the Infernal City so as better to treat with their inhuman masters. Unfortunately (for the sake of the realtors, so they would have *plenty* to do in the afterlife), the inhabitants of Hell were mostly transient; while a few (a very few) got out from time to time, either on assignment or because of good behavior (brr!), most moved constantly within Hell's boundaries, looking for a better deal or an easier job. Occasionally, someone would just disappear, consumed by the dark plane's energies or one of its bigger inhabitants, but no one really noticed--after all, what's one less damned soul? This summer had been worse than usual; of course, since the demon lords spent most of their time thinking up new and better ways to torment their charges, that can be expected. Adding to the stink and wretchedness of the place were the enormous number of major and minor demons who kept coming back to Hell with some sob story or another about a human girl with ash-blond hair and a cheerleader accent. The accounts had finally grown into something of an urban legend among Hell's elite--not really believed, but something that gave most of them a slight start anyway. The fact that most of the demons that had been "returned to their natural habitat," so to speak, were relatively minor ones was a comforting fact for Hell's rulers. There was a major rumor going around that Moloch the Corrupter--a greater demon, first cousin of the Lightbringer, and all-around bad-ass--had fallen prey to this same demon-slaying cheerleader, resulting in a large number of dirty jokes and limericks. While Moloch enjoyed a good laugh as much as the next demon, he also preferred that laugh in much the same way as the next demon--that is, at someone else's expense. Sullen and silent, Moloch had holed up in his palace in the Infernal City and only been seen a couple of times since he had plummeted in from Earth. The one time he spoke to one of his tormentors was to deny that he had been defeated--he had simply decided that he didn't like California's weather, so he said. A few in the upper hierarchy--not including those demons that had witnessed the girl in action personally--knew the rumors to be true. There was one being in the World Above who knew how to defeat them, how to battle them on their own terms. That blasted treaty that had trapped them all down here had made sure of that. Of course, most demons didn't get told that sort of thing if they were going out on assignment; it would be bad for their already shaky morale. As for the few demons who could confirm the legends... well, safe to say that most of them wouldn't be confirming anything for a millennium or three. It was the oldest and most heavily enforced law of Hell: the strong dominate the less strong, and there is no place for the weak at all. If you had been beaten by a *human*, then you were obviously weak; the only reason Moloch was still in power was his relationship with the Lightbringer. So it came to pass on a hot summer day in Hell that two strangers came to visit the palace of Moloch, Lord of Corruption and Viceroy of the Provinces of Hell. The two--one exceedingly tall, with burnt-black skin and horns, quite obviously a demon; the other small, almost as short as a human, with a playful look and a burning gaze--walked through the gates of Moloch's palace, right past the guards as if they weren't even there. Something in their steady walk, their unfaltering gaze, convinced the squad of demons that the pair were guests of their dark lord, despite the fact that Moloch had specifically ordered them to keep out all visitors. Demons are pretty easy to bluff, if you know how to act. Somehow keeping abreast of one another in spite of their disparate heights, this unlikely pair made their way through the twisting corridors and winding passages of the Palace of Temptation, pausing only once when the smaller of the two gasped at something he had seen in a mirror--not his own reflection, but a vision of the thing he wanted most. This was the power of Moloch's palace, to tempt and corrupt those that walked its halls until they could resist none of his orders. As the larger being watched in amusement and mild annoyance, the image in the mirror kept shifting, flickering between two opposing desires--which was sound enough, considering his small companion's dual nature. Finally, with a grimace and a quiet roar of indignation, the smaller one pulled away from the mirror and continued on; his companion said nothing but nodded slightly, as though congratulating his ally. After a time that could have been an hour or a century, they came into Moloch's master chamber. The demon himself--once a proud and horrid figure, full of power and wrath--was seated on his obsidian throne, idly flipping channels on the Lightbringer's greatest invention. They watched him for a moment, malicious amusement quite plain on the small one's face now, before announcing their presence. As expected, Moloch's reaction was less than positive. "How dare you enter this unholy place without my permission!" thundered the demon lord angrily. "And how dare two such outcasts as yourselves come here--of all places, here!" The smaller being giggled, breaking Moloch's rant but darkening his mood; it was a dangerous path the visitors walked, and failure could mean the Final Death for both of them. "Ease up, Molly," said the small one in a smoothly placating voice that held just a tinge of ridicule as he raised his hands in mock surrender. "We come in peace... and we also come to offer a solution to your problem." "My problem? I don't know what you-" began Moloch in a haughty tone. This time it was the big demon who cut him off. "Your problem is that you were beaten. By a human." The big demon's slow, measured tones were calculated to have the maximum insulting impact to them. They did, and Moloch's face began to darken from its usual sickly green to a baleful yellow-green. His hands clenched involuntarily as he stood, his talons shredding the remote control like a ginsu knife through wet paper. "Calm down, your scaliness," said the small being, this time with a tremor in his voice. He hoped that he hadn't pushed the old bastard too far. "We don't mean anything by it. After all, it seems like more and more of our kind are getting the shaft all the time. It's nothing to be ashamed of," he said, though his tone suggested otherwise, "and we genuinely want to help you get revenge." Intrigued in spite of his anger, Moloch sat back down, draping his black robes about himself ostentatiously. He now looked and sounded every inch the demon monarch he was, except that his tone was strained and tight. He commanded them to continue. "Well, your evilness," said the small one, apparently the spokesman of the two, "my buddy here wants to get back to the Upper World. So do I, for that matter, but right now he's the important one." He smiled a false smile at his compatriot, a gesture that was not returned. "He's got a plan to make the winning move in this little game of ours and kick Good's ass up between its shoulder blades. If you give us what we need from you, we can guarantee you that, before the summer is out, Earth and Hell will be as one." "Interesting boast," Moloch said in a bored voice, hiding his true curiosity behind a veil of disdain, "but how do you intend to carry it out?" "That's the cool part. Watch this." With that, the small one nodded to his demonic companion, who closed his eyes, raised his arms high above his head, and began to concentrate. In mere moments, the chamber had gone from cool (every demon lord gets air conditioning) to warm to hot. After a few minutes had passed, the demon's body was standing out in sweat, his small companion had gone to his knees on the marble floor, and even Moloch was starting to look uncomfortable. "Enough!" yelled the Lord of Corruption. "End the demonstration!" The big demon dropped his arms to his sides, and immediately the room began to cool down. In less than half a minute, the throne room was as cool as ever. The small one stood, mopping his prominent brow with a dark-colored sleeve, and smiled a broad and genuine smile. "You see, by concentration, my friend here can channel the flames of Hell in any way he pleases. A few millennia ago on Earth, he even had his own cult." He paused a moment, then cocked his head with a cryptic grin. "Well, it wasn't so much a cult as it was a mystic protection racket. What he would do is, he would send visions to villages near Hellmouths and threaten to make all their water dry up if they didn't worship him and sacrifice to him. Neat, huh? He kept this up for a good five or six centuries--but who's counting?--until some bastards in boats and pointy metal hats showed up and killed off all his potential sacrifices. "That sucked pretty badly, especially considering how as he had most of his power tied up in controlling the territory's weather at the time. When the sacrifices stopped coming, he had to give it up and come back here. He went through the exact same thing you're going through now--snubbed by 'polite' society, laughed at behind his back, had dirty limericks made up about him... well, you know the rest," he finished, seeing Moloch's anger returning. "Anyway, he sulked for awhile, basking in his own crapulence, before he decided to get up off his scaly ass and do something about it." "And what, pray tell," said Moloch, barely suppressing his fury, "can he do? Or you for that matter? Both of you were killed on Earth. That means you can't ever go back; you're stuck here for all eternity--just like me! You are powerless!" Moloch stood suddenly and moved forward faster than either of them could follow. By the time they realized what had happened, the small one was dangling three feet off the ground, his throat tightly gripped in Moloch's claws. "Give me one good reason I should not destroy you right now--I still might anyway, but I want a reason I shouldn't!" Gasping and strangling, the small one managed to choke out four simple words that made Moloch drop him in surprise: "We found a loophole." After he could speak again, the small one continued. "My big, bad friend here," again, he indicated the large black demon, "is actually the one who figured it out, but it wasn't of much use to him until recently. I popped in down here, and almost right away he came to meet me. I was kinda doubtful, too, but the way I see it is this: better a slim chance than none at all. As it turns out, I'm pretty vital to the loophole he found in the Treaty of Midpoint." "What loophole, already," shrieked Moloch, losing any semblance of cool he might have once had. "Tell me, or I shall tear you eyes out of your head and devour them! I shall have you thrust bodily into the Lake of Fire! I-" "Easy there, big fella, I was just getting to it." The small demon cleared his throat, not so much because he needed to as he wanted to annoy Moloch. "The loophole in the treaty is this: Section CLVI, Article 9, Paragraph 4, first line." Moloch's brow scrunched in concentration. "In case you've forgotten, that's the 'Righteous Man' clause: If a righteous soul should somehow wind up down here, we can't keep him. Evil's our job, and we're good at being bad; the other side gets all the goody-two-shoes in the universe. So, if a good and kind soul should get stuck down here, we have to return him to Earth within one week of his confinement, or else Good's goons get to storm the place and pull him out." The small one smiled and winked. "Well, actually, the wording's kind of vague right there. It could be interpreted to mean we have to return him to Earth, or we have to guide him back to Earth; I chose the latter meaning. And the really good news is that we get to pick our representative to guide this poor, misplaced fellow back home--anyone we see fit to give the responsibility to, and there doesn't seem to be any time constraint on the chaperone for when he has to come back!" Moloch's evil smile continued to grow, until it threatened to burst his reptilian lips open at the corners. He started to stand, then changed his mind and sat again, fidgeting in his seat with excitement unbecoming a demon lord. "Well, then," declared Moloch, "just take me to this poor, misguided soul, and I'll make personally sure-" "Sorry, Molly," chuckled the small one, "it doesn't work that way. I should have said, 'almost anyone.' While we can choose to take the righteous soul back or wait until the saints come marching in, demon lords can't shirk their Hellacious responsibilities just for such a small task. Same section and article, next paragraph, third line. According to the treaty, you and your fellow bigwigs have way too much to do besides gallivanting across the Earth plane... How did you wind up there in the first place?" "Long story," muttered Moloch, slightly disappointed now. "Don't ask." "Okay... Anyway, here's what we figure: You send us back, the righteous guy gets stomped, we barbecue the planet, the Boss is so happy with you that he makes you his second-in-command--and we all live unhappily ever after!" Moloch's expression had become one of confusion and distrust. "Didn't you say that only one 'chaperone' could go back?" "Yup, and my bald friend is that chaperone." "Where do you fit in, then?" "Me?" he asked innocently. "I'm the righteous soul, trapped in an underworld too hot and smelly, a place where my halo needs constant buffing and waxing." He smiled and shrugged. "Just trust me on this one, Molly. It'll work." "How do you intend the ascent?" asked Moloch, apparently having accepted the plan at face value. After all, he had nothing to lose and everything to gain. "I'm sure you have some people on the outside. Not necessarily devil worshipers, mind you--those guys are funny as all get out, but not too bright--but somebody who still passes you information, sacrifices, that sort of stuff." At Moloch's reluctant nod, the small one continued. "Then just get them to kill somebody and cast one of the rites of renunciation; at the same time, we'll put a whammy on one of the Hellmouths and it'll pop right open--at least, long enough for us to get through. And if I'm lying, and I'm not a righteous man, then my buddy and me both get fried. Happy now?" "One last thing," said Moloch, eager now but unwilling to proceed before he clarified something. "There's a saying here in Hell: 'Anything free is seldom cheap.' What are the two of you getting out of this?" "We get out of this shithole, for one thing," said the small one bitterly. "I haven't been here a week, and already I don't like it. Maybe after Hell and Earth get back together, you can make it a little livelier, huh?" He looked over at his ally, who was standing impassive as a stone. "He just wants to toe the party line and live it up a little." "I assume you want something else," said the demon lord resignedly. "Yup, but nothing from you. I want to help you send the world to Hell, but before we do, I want to take care of a little unfinished business--for you and for me... "I want the Slayer." END CHAPTER FIVE ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Slayer01" Subject: BUFFYFIC: My first ever fanfic -An Act of Love Date: 18 Sep 1998 08:38:28 -0700 Title: An Act of Love Prologue (part 1 of who knows how many) Author: Misery4 Disclaimer: Don't own anything, I'm