From: owner-arfic-l-digest@lists.xmission.com (arfic-l-digest) To: arfic-l-digest@lists.xmission.com Subject: arfic-l-digest V1 #9 Reply-To: arfic-l-digest Sender: owner-arfic-l-digest@lists.xmission.com Errors-To: owner-arfic-l-digest@lists.xmission.com Precedence: bulk arfic-l-digest Saturday, March 10 2001 Volume 01 : Number 009 ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Mon, 5 Mar 2001 23:19:49 -0500 (EST) From: Ailie McFarland Subject: (arfic-l) Sleep to Dream Her 1/1 Title: Sleep to Dream Her Series: Yellow Flame Fandom: BTVS Author: Ailie McFarland E-Mail: aixla@juno.com Spoilers: New Moon Rising Rating: PG-13 Summary: Oz gets all angsty and we get teary eyed. Archive: http://www.geocities.com/aixla/buffy.html Distribution: Oh! Well, if it helps at all, I'm gonna say Yes. Feedback: Hello, you've reached Ailie's ego. I'm not in right now, but if you'd leave me a message about this story I'd really appreciate it! Dedication: For Ems, cause she's letting me be the Queen! ;) Disclaimer: Oz and Willow obviously do not belong to me. If they did BTVS would be called "The Willow and Oz Show." Oh, and they lyrics aren't mine either. The song is "Sleep to Dream Her" by the Dave Matthews Band. Author's Note: Dave Matthews is such an amazing poet. He writes and sings in a way that pulls all the same heart strings that Willow and Oz do. From that comes the "Yellow Flame" series. Each will be a stand alone song fic with DMB lyrics. The Yellow Flame comes from "Tripping Billies" ... //We are all sitting Legs crossed round a fire My yellow flame she dances// Also, please note no Tara bashing intended. This is following Oz's train of thought once he has gone a little over the edge. ********** //I know I'll miss her later Wish I could bend my love to hate her Wish I could be her creator To twist her arms now// E-flat, D, D-flat. It was an easy enough song as far as the bass line was concerned. Damn easy, in fact. The rest of the band had been rather surprised when Oz suggested they cover it. They rarely did covers do begin with, let alone one that was so different from their normal punkish style. But it did work nicely for some variety in a long set, and eventually the guys agreed to give it a shot. Time now found Oz and the band at a hole in the wall that tried to pass itself off at a bar. His days playing The Bronze with "Dingoes" seemed like the lap of luxury compared to this. Actually, in a way the falling plaster and chipped Formica did remind him of his old haunt ... after a vampire attack, anyway. Plus it wasn't exactly the crowd their manager had promised; a few drunken men sprawled across the bar, several women desperately looking for love in very wrong places, and maybe a dozen bored college students lounging in the back. And yet Oz still scanned the crowd, hoping that this would be the day. //She stares up at the stars when The stars fell from her hair then I bent down to collect them And then she was gone// Still fresh in his mind was the day he had gone back to Sunnydale. The evening walk he had taken with his love. The way moonbeams played amongst stray strands of hair as Willow tilted her head to face the full moon. Starlight in her eyes and smile when she made the connection. Shadows crossing her delicate features when he attempted to ask her back into his life. Looking back now, he realized he had known. He had known the second she broke their embrace under that cursed moon. But that hadn't been his vision, his fantasy of the way that moment should have been. So he ignored it, and her. That ignorance had cost him everything. //Oh I sleep just to dream her I beg the night just to see her That my only love should be her Just to lie in her arms// In dreams alone did Oz's Willow now live. This Willow woke beside him every morning, mumbling about raspberry hats or some other such nonsense. She rambled when she was nervous, bit her lip when she was thinking naughty thoughts. She had taken him back with open arms that night so many years ago, and now sat in the audience of every club or bar he played in his mind. Waking hours brought pain of reality, but this song ... it seemed to offer some sort of hope. He recalled their last conversation somewhat selectively. "Part of me will always be waiting," she had said. "If I round the corner and bump into you, I won't be surprised." That had been his Willow talking, not *hers.* His Willow would walk into one of these bars some day and see him, of that he was certain. She would hear this song and know, just know, that he had picked it out for her. The same way she had just known the right things to say and do before ... she would do the right thing again. She would live in his life as well as dreams. //Oh I came there to find out Find out she made up her mind My arms are all tied up To me she was blind// Sometimes Oz would come to his senses and realize that he was the blind one, not Willow. He was the one who refused reality both then and now. Those days were the worst. One or two of them had ended in excessive drinking and the rampaging destruction of motel property. Eventually he had decided denial was the best place to live ... and the rest of the band decided it was best to keep him there with whatever drugs they could find. So they kept him in his happy place, and he continued to play, although slightly sloppier than before. //This space between us Where wingless dreams fall earless Will you not bear me witness With your back to me now It seems so unnerving Yet still somehow deserving That she could hold my heart so tightly And still not see me here// With the end of the song rapidly approaching, Oz frantically scanned the crowd. In every girl there were little pieces of her. That one had her smile. Over there, bright blue eyes. And red hair being all the rage, any girl could be her from behind. But the total package wasn't there. It never was. She never was. //Oh I sleep just to dream her Beg the night just to see her That my only love should be her Just to lie in her arms// Derek had realized a long time ago that his bass player had his quirks, and learned to work around them. He glanced Oz's way to signal the end of the final chord and notice of the man's slighly frazzled expression. Time to end the set, give the poor guy something to calm and collect him before going back on stage. The habit was expensive to support, but he had to admit that Oz was a helluva player, and they needed him if they were gonna get anywhere. Oz never offered to talk about his past, and Derek never asked. It had been a subject of some debate during late night hotel room parties, when the melancholy basist had been passed out and alone in his own room. Whispers of women, sometimes of men. Maybe a crime committed in a moment of blind passion. Who knew? What Derek did know was that a demon lurked under that calm water, and he wasn't about to disturb it. //I know I'll miss her later I wish I could bend my love to hate her Wish I could be her creator To be the light in her eyes// END *************** Ailie McFarland *************** WILLOW: Well, I like you. You're nice and you're funny. And you don't smoke. Yeah, okay, werewolf, but that's not all the time. I mean, three days out of the month I'm not much fun to be around either. OZ: You are quite the human. WILLOW: So I'd still, if you'd still. OZ: I'd still. I'd *very* still. OZ: Would it help you if I panic? WILLOW: Yes, it'd be swell. Panic is a thing people can share in times of crisis, and everything's really scary now, you know, and I don't know what's going to happen and there is all sorts of things you're supposed to get to do after high school and I was really looking forward to doing them and now we're probably just going to die and I'd like to feel you maybe you would ... (Oz shuts her up with a kiss) What are you doing? OZ: Panicing. WILLOW: Oz...don't you love me? OZ: My whole life, I've never loved anything else. - - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 6 Mar 2001 19:42:01 EST From: Slayervick@aol.com Subject: Re: (arfic-l) Sleep to Dream Her 1/1 oh oooh, michele, can we post this pleeeeeeeeeze? that's all i gots to say about that, hope all of you on ar-submissions hear this too ~victoria - - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 6 Mar 2001 21:17:14 -0500 From: "Michele Bumbarger" Subject: (arfic-l) FIC: I'm Still Anne (1/1) Title: I'm Still Anne Author: M. Bumbarger Email: mbumbarg@pair.com Fandom: Buffy, the Vampire Slayer/Angel: The Series Rating: PG Summary: Two years after the events of "Anne," Anne stops to think and reflect. Sequel to "The Other Anne." ("The Other Anne" can be found at the Alternate Realities Fan Fiction Archive, http://www.alternate-realities.net in the Buffy, the Vampire Slayer section of the archive). Spoilers: Buffy, Season Three Episode, "Anne." Mild hinted at spoilage for Angel, Season Two Episode, "Blood Money." This story takes place in Angel-verse before the episode, "Blood Money." Author's Notes: A special thank you to my beta-readers, Caroline and Victoria. Disclaimer: The characters of Buffy Summers, Angel, Anne, and Lilah Morgan do not belong to me. Nor does Wolfram & Hart belong to me. All are the property of Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, Tim Minear, Mutant Enemy and Fox Productions. They used here without permission but not for profit. **** I'm Still Anne By M. Bumbarger I got to thinking about her the other day. Not that I don't think about her a lot 'cause I do. She believed in me. She trusted me. She made me believe in myself. So, I do think about her a lot. At night, when I'm in bed, and the shelter is mostly quiet, or when I'm just sitting by the window staring out of it. I think about her whenever a new kid wanders in off the streets that wants our help. Whenever there's a new face who's decided that he doesn 't want to sell drugs or she doesn't want to pimp her body or they realize there's things out there in the dark that are just as bad as gang bangers and crooked cops. It's funny, but I never thought that I would think that vampires and the things that really do go bump in the night are as bad a gang bangers, or a kid beat beyond recognition 'cause she didn't want pay up what her pimp thought she should or because she tried to work the wrong corner. It's all a perspective thing, I guess. At least with vampires, you know, they get you, one bite and you're pretty much dead. Or like them. But what I see . . . what those kids see and live through everyday . . . hell, vampires aren't so bad after all. I'm making it now. I'm making it and I'm making a difference, but still I always come back and think about her. You know, Buffy. I wonder what happened when she went back to Sunnydale. I wonder if she actually went back to that place. I mean, it was like she was going to, like she finally figured out that she couldn't run and had to go back and stand her ground, but you never know. I mean, she seemed so strong, but you never know about people really. She seemed strong back when I called myself Chantrelle and a bunch of us thought that vampires would free us when all they really wanted to do was make us dinner. She seemed strong, like she had it all together, but then she ended up in LA, barely holding it together and trying to be something that she wasn't. Just like me. So, maybe she wasn't as strong as we thought. But I kinda wonder if she ever made it back and ended up dealing with her demons. And I wonder if she ever thinks about me, down here in LA. I wonder if she sometimes stops and looks around and wonders if I'm still doing what I was doing or if I'm actually trying to pull it together. I wonder how surprised she would be to know that I have pulled it together. I am somebody now. People look up to me, they respect me. There's a whole mess of kids out there - runaways and throwaways - who know that I'm here for them if they need me. They know that they've got somewhere to go and somebody who understands because I've been there. But I don't think that I would be here right now, doing this if it hadn't been for Buffy. I know I wouldn't be - I would be old and dead just like Ricky. Or maybe cut up and beat up like Rosalie who came through last week. Or shot dead like T-Bone for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I definitely wouldn't be here; I wouldn't be making a difference. That's why I kept the name Anne. I mean, officially. Went through all the paces to change it legally and everything. Lilah Morgan at Wolfram & Hart helped out with that - pro bono. A little bit of paperwork, and I'm really Anne. No one knew me before I was Anne and that's a good thing - I don't think they would have recognized me anyway. So, here is Anne, doing good and making a difference. Doing all those things that "Anne" did for me - leaving hope and helping out. Showing the way. The kids love me, they thank me for helping them. They thank me for seeing them as real people when no one else did or would or could. And it makes me feel good inside. Two years ago, I wouldn't have thought that it was possible to feel this good inside, to look in a mirror and be able to really like what you see there. Two years ago, I really wouldn't have wanted to look in a mirror. "Anne" helped me see the light. She helped me find my way. And I don't know if she's back to being Buffy Summers now, or if she's still running from whatever she was running from. But I do know one very important thing. I'm still standing. I'm still Anne. *** End *** M. Bumbarger 03.06.01 "You know, I used to think it was awful that life was so unfair. Then I thought, wouldn't it be much worse if life were fair, and all the terrible things that happen to us come because we actually deserve them? So, now I take great comfort in the general hostility and unfairness of the universe." Marcus, Babylon 5, Episode: "A Late Delivery from Avalon" - - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 6 Mar 2001 19:34:04 -0800 (PST) From: Worlds Away Subject: (arfic-l) FIC: Worlds Away (18/??) Title: Worlds Away (Part 18/??) Author: M. Bumbarger Email: worldsaway2001@yahoo.com Fandom: New Series Tomorrow People Rating: PG-13/TV-14 Summary: The Tomorrow People are swept away to a different world, where they must take up the lives of their alter-egos and try to find their way home . . . which won't be easy. Notes & Dedication: An extra special chocolately goodness thank you to Caroline Fales for helping me over several humps with this chapter and keeping the story on track. Disclaimer: The Tomorrow People (Adam Newman, Ami Jackson, Megabyte Damon, and Jade Weston) are the property of Roger Damon Price, Thames Television, ITV, Tetra Television and Nickelodeon. They are used here without permission, but not for profit. The lands, countries, customs, deities, and original characters are mine and mine only, springing from the depths of my imagination and should not be used anywhere else without my permission. Please do not repost this to any list or archive it anywhere else without my express permission. Previous parts at http://www.alternate-realities.net/worldsaway ***** Chapter Eighteen Power. Life. Energy. It flowed from every point around Adam, flowed into the Sword and seeped into his very soul. Unending, unyielding power and energy surrounded him and devoured him, molded with him and shaped him to its will. The power guided his sword strokes, guided his hands and his feet, carrying him along in the wake of a powerful tidal wave. He was one with the Sword, he was one with the world around him, joined as one with universe. Give and take, take and give until there was nothing else but this force that could not be defeated or ignored. It fed him, it nourished him, and it provided him with everything. It was everything. Therefore, Adam found himself shuddering and stumbling to his knees when it was quite suddenly ripped from him, leaving him cold and hallow and wanting. He grasped for the thin tether he held on that powerful magic, mentally reaching outwards with phantom fingers for the phantasmal cord, recoiling when he brushed against a wall as smooth as glass and as cold as ice. His fingers instinctively tightened on the Sword hilt, yearning and seeking, repeatedly ramming against the invisible wall that separated him from the life energy of the magic. "Woman, have you taken leave of your senses?" A voice - -- Stewart's voice -- came from down a long tunnel, as the world slowly rose to meet him again, as reality met up with him. "You do not interfere like that! You are mad!" "No more than you. You will allow him to do too much and go too far. And a dead prince is not of much use to the kingdom." Adam lifted his head, somehow it felt heavier than he could ever remember it feeling, to the source of the second voice. The image before him blurred and shifted, doubling and tripling before finally fusing into one. "Halista?" The woman gave him a deep curtsy. "I am sorry, Aldaric, but I could not stand by and wait for you to burn yourself to a cinder." Two old wrinkled hands wrapped around the hilt of his sword, pulling it gently from his hands. Adam tried to resist, but in his weakened state, the old nurse was the stronger of the two. "I think that your lesson is at an end for the day." Adam shook his head in an effort to clear it. He was gathering his bearings again, thank goodness for small miracles, but while his head was clear, that did nothing to banish the shivering that went deep to the core of his soul. He had been studying and reading, learning about this world's magic, and only using it when Stewart required it of him, so he had a good idea of what had happened. It was called blocking, and Halista had carried it out quite effectively. Even now, with the Sword that he relied on to touch the magic at all beyond his reach, he was still aware of that wall between him and the energies that made up the magic. He was aware that he couldn't touch them at all. And he didn't like the feelings of terror and loss that accompanied that knowledge. "Well, you've certainly left him in no condition to do much else today," Stewart barked. Adam flinched at the sound of Stewart's sword being thrust back into its sheath. His senses, all of them, sight and sound, taste and smell, even touch, were hypersensitive after being exposed to any amount of magic. Although the voice was gruff, the hands that lifted him from the ground were gentle. And Adam was grateful for Stewart's aid; he didn't think that he would have been able to stand up without the older man's help. [Adam?] [Hey pal, you okay?] The two simultaneous telepathic whisperings in his mind made Adam wince and recoil, reflexively pushing both of his friends away. He held tight to Stewart's shoulder and hoped that the man did not notice that his prince almost went back down to his knees in the dirt again. He felt panic at his reaction - mental panic coming from the two minds a day's ride away and he sighed heavily, opening his shields slightly. [I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. I'm fine.] [What happened?] [Nothing, Megabyte. Just one of Stewart's lessons.] The lie left a bad taste in his mouth, but Adam wasn't ready to share *that* particular aspect of being Prince Adam Aldaric with his friends just yet. It was one of those things that was too close to him, too intimate, too personal and he didn't think that there was anyway that he could possibly make them understand, particularly when he didn't understand it himself. Adam remembered the first time he wielded the magical power, he remembered how disturbed and unsettled he had been by it. In those early days, he had hoped that he would never have to do it again, but that had not been the case. Stewart required it of him; existing in this place as Prince Adam Aldaric required it of him . . . and some days, he required it of him. The magic was like a drug - powerful and pure in its raw intoxication. When he touched the magic, when he opened himself to its influence, the feeling of completeness and wholeness was nothing that he had ever felt before or could even put into the proper words. Each time he opened himself, it grew easier to do it again and again; each time he found himself more willing to do it the next time. Everything that he read said that magic required discipline. He understood why. A part of him had hoped that with the wedding fast approaching, and the increased activity at the Palace, Stewart would be lax in his training, and he would not be forced to deal with the complex and conflicting feelings and emotions wielding the magic brought forth in him. The other part of him had desperately hoped that Stewart would not be lax. [Are you sure? Because it felt like -] [Megabyte, I'm fine. It was nothing.] The words came out sharper than Adam had intended and he sighed again. [I'm just having a hard day, all right? All of you, stop worrying about me.] A few more concerned probes, and his friends withdrew, leaving him alone once again with his own thoughts, worries, and fears. And Halista and Stewart, both of whom were staring at him with more than a little concern as he lowered himself to the nearest bench. "What?" Adam demanded. "I am simply reassuring myself that you are still of sharp and clear mind," Stewart directed the words at Adam, but the icy glare he reserved for Halista. "Too sharp and too clear, if the pain in my head is any indication," Adam remarked, rubbing his temples. His eyes were drawn to the Sword, his Sword, in Halista's hand and he forced himself to look away. "He has a headache," Stewart growled. Halista laid the Sword on the bench beside him, "It will pass." The woman gave him a soft pat to his shoulder and turned to Stewart. "See that he does not over tax himself again." With those words, she spun on her heel, wandering away from the practice grounds with the same light tread that she had approached with. "That woman will be the death of me," Stewart grumbled and gestured at the Sword lying on the bench. "Sheath that, Your Highness. There'll be no more lessons today. As we are lucky you are still standing and --" "Who trained you, Stewart?" The question came out of nowhere, even later, Adam would not know why he asked it. "Your Highness?" "The Sword, the magic," Adam gestured with his free hand, the other carefully encircling the hilt of his sword, "Halista trained you right?" It was a guess, gleaned from Stewart's interactions with the woman and things Adam had learned from carefully listening. "You know this already, Adam. I don't see why we are discussing it." "Maybe you should work together," Adam stood and sheathed his Sword, "She can't teach me everything Stewart, but neither can you." "I was wondering when it would come to this." Adam looked to the other man in surprise. He thought that perhaps the prince had discussed this with Stewart before, thought that perhaps that was the reason for the animosity between the man and Halista. He was surprised to learn that he was wrong. Still, he managed to downplay his surprise with a shrug, "It only makes sense. If I'm to receive official instruction at the Temple of Damiaren someday, maybe learning from someone who's been there isn't such a bad idea?" "You still have not mastered the fine art of royal subterfuge, Adam, but you are learning." Stewart gave him a fond smile and a clap on his shoulder, "But perhaps, this is a conversation that we should have after your wedding? You might change your mind by then. You might have only an interest in your wife teaching you that which you would like to know." Adam ignored the gleam in Stewart's eyes, and was grateful that Hagen was not around. His cousin would certainly not have passed up the opportunity to make some lewd comment or another about Adam's bride, the wedding night, or both. "Stewart, I doubt the Damiar Princess is going to be capable of, or at the very least interested in teaching me anything that has to do with magic. She probably can't even teach herself, she is newly raised, remember?" While still not understanding all of the subtle, and not so subtle, nuances of the world he now occupied, Adam understood enough that the world was at least beginning to make sense to him. For instance, he understood that there were twelve levels of ascension, or Circles, within the Temple of Damiaren, and that the Damiar Princess had only been accepted into the first circle a few weeks *after* the engagement had been publicly declared. He didn't pretend to understand the complexities of honor and title surrounding the Circles, or the idea that some who studied at the temple would never have the power or the strength to enter the circles, although they would forever be known as damiar, not a title, simply a description of what they were. And on the opposite end of the spectrum, there were those like Halista who had ascended several, if not all Twelve Circles, but did not carry an honorific of any sort, nor did she even identify herself as damiar. Between the world politics and the religious politics, Adam sometimes felt like his head would explode if he thought about it for too long. "You presume I was speaking of magic." Adam stiffened and shook his head slightly. "And here, I thought you were a wiser man than Hagen and knew when to keep your own counsel." "I am not the only one who finds it interesting to note that you do not seem to have any wish or desire to speak of your future bride," Stewart remarked quietly. "Why is that, Your Highness?" "And I find it interesting to note that everyone else around me does want to talk about it," Adam returned. "Why is that, Stewart?" "Because it is unprecedented. A marriage outside of the kingdom. One that will give our kingdom some leverage within the Temple of Damiaren. There are a great many reasons to talk about it. Your marriage is not, and unfortunately quite probably will never be, a private matter." "All the more reason why I'm not going to waste time and breath to speculate or discuss it, with *anyone.* I'll be married soon enough, come what may I can't change that. What's left to talk about?" "You sound like your father." "You say that like it's a bad thing." The words surprised Adam, although he was certain his face did not show it. On earth, his father was a man that he did not know, and a man that he wanted to forget; he would never have taken pride in the type of statement that Hagen had just made. But here, King Martine was respected and loved by his subjects, respected and loved by his family. Being compared to the sovereign of Stiborn could hardly be an insult. "Your father is a good man and a good king, but one day you will be King, and it would be a pleasant change if you sounded like Adam Aldaric. But I wonder if he even has a voice of his own." "And what's that supposed to mean?" "You are your father's son, Adam, and that is a blessing. But someday, you will have to rule this kingdom without the shadow of King Martine to support you. This marriage is only the beginning. It's your chance to be more than the son of Martine and Carrina. "Instead of burying yourself in books and reading fables, you would be served well by remembering that." "Stewart, I don't know whether you just insulted me or complimented me." "That is because I am far more skilled at playing the royal game than you are, Your Highness." Stewart gave him a bow, "Sleep on it, and perhaps it will make sense to you in a few years time." With those cryptic last words, Stewart turned and departed the practice grounds, leaving Adam staring blankly after him. And wondering if he would ever really get the hang of this world - and its people. *** End of Chapter Eighteen ===== ********************************************* Worlds Away http://www.alternate-realities.net/worldsaway ********************************************* __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Get email at your own domain with Yahoo! Mail. http://personal.mail.yahoo.com/ - - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 6 Mar 2001 23:24:26 -0500 (EST) From: Ailie McFarland Subject: (arfic-l) Crush 1/1 Wow, I've gotten some great feedback from this list. *S* So I thought I'd p= ost the first story in this series (actually the only other story in this s= eries at the moment ...) which actually was written several months ago. TITLE: Crush=20 AUTHOR: Ailie McFarland=20 RATING: PG-13=20 FANDOM: BTVS COUPLE: Willow/Oz=20 SUMMARY: Yet another mushy song fic (as if we don't have enough of those *L= *)=20 ARCHIVE: http://www.geocities.com/aixla/fanfic.html DISTRIBUTION: Ask and ye shall receive.=20 FEEDBACK: Hello, you've reached Ailie's ego. I'm not home right now, but if= you'd leave me some feedback I'd really appreciate it!=20 DISCLAIMER: Oz and Willow obviously do not belong to me. If they did BTVS w= ould get *way* to mushy. Oh, and they lyrics aren't mine either. The song i= s "Crush" by the Dave Matthews Band. ******************=20 //Crazy how it feels tonight=20 Crazy how you make it all alright love=20 You crush me with the things you do=20 I do for you anything too=20 Sitting, smoking, feeling high=20 In this moment it feels so right// Willow sat on the floor of her dorm room, looking up into the eyes of the m= an she loved. It was neat to think that she was the only person who'd ever heard him sing. N= ot even Devon could get Oz to do that. But she could. Oz tended to be a private man, so there w= ere many sides of him that only Willow got to see. This was her favorite.=20 She watched as Oz's fingers strummed across the strings of his acoustic, sh= ivering involuntarily as she remembered other things those hands could do. But there would be ple= nty of time for that later. For now he was singing to her, and that was more than enough.= =20 //Lovely lady=20 I am at your feet=20 God I want you so badly=20 I wonder this=20 Could tomorrow be=20 So wondrous as you there sleeping// The words had been written by someone else, but Oz made them his own. His o= wn song of worship to the goddess of his life. And it expressed his feelings perfectly. He oft= en woke earlier than Willow just to watch her sleep. Her face had a gentle innocence that h= e never imagined existed, and when it completely relaxed as she slept, she really did look l= ike an angel. After a few minutes he would run his fingers through her glorious mane of fire, a= nd she would awaken just enough to give him a sleepy smile that made his heart stop beating.=20 //Let's go drive 'til morning comes=20 Watch the sunrise=20 To fill our souls up=20 Drink some wine 'til we get drunk=20 It's crazy I'm thinking=20 Just knowing that the world is round=20 Here I'm dancing on the ground=20 Am I right side up or upside down=20 Is this real or am I dreaming//=20 For Willow, her life was a dream. She had wonderful friends, goals and drea= ms, a purpose for her life, and a man who truly loved her. What else could she possibly need?= =20 Soul mates. Little girls grow up dreaming about finding =91the one,' their = very own Prince Charming. As they grow older they become jaded. They stop believing in true love, and= settle for what they can get. But not Willow. She lived the dream.=20 //Lovely lady=20 Let me drink you please=20 I won't spill a drop,=20 I promise you=20 Lying under this spell you cast on me=20 Each moment=20 The more I love you//=20 Oz winked as and Willow giggled. Willow's knowledge of Wicca and magical po= wers had grown tremendously over the course of their relationship. Oz had once accused her of casting a= spell on him, because he loved her more each day. The joke stuck. They often talked about what th= eir married life would be like someday; Samantha and Darren. All they needed was a nosy neig= hbor whose mind they could mess with. =20 //Crush me=20 Come on=20 It's crazy I'm thinking=20 Just knowing that the world is round=20 Here I'm dancing on the ground=20 Am I right side up or upside down=20 Is it real or am I dreaming// Oz's world had turned upside down once Willow became a part of it. Within d= ays he went from being a guitar player in a rock band, to a member of a team dedicated to sa= ving the world. Yet he seemed to take it all in stride. Just as Willow had dealt with the f= act that she would have to lock him up three nights out of every months for the rest of their = lives.=20 Sometimes after they had made love, in the soft whispers of pillow talk, Wi= llow would confess her fears to Oz. Would they be able to have children if they wanted to? Wou= ld that child be a werewolf as well? Oz always replied the same way. "Everything happens as = it should." Willow loved him for that. He didn't try to comfort her with empty promises that h= e couldn't even believe in himself. Instead he shared his faith that things always turn out= right, even if they don't look like they will at first glance.=20 //Lovely lady=20 I will treat you sweetly=20 Adore you I mean=20 You crush me=20 It's times like these=20 When my faith I feel=20 And I know How I love you//=20 The funny thing about Oz's faith in the way of things was that it was compl= etely based on Willow. He had always had a theory about this, but until meeting her had never had = the chance to put it into practice. And it wasn't just the fact that they had managed to aver= t the apocalypse a few times. With Willow he discovered that nothing can dissuade the course= of true love. Not vampires, demons, giant snakes ... not even the small things that cause mos= t relationships to disintegrate. They rarely disagreed, but when they did they always manag= ed to resolve things. These conflicts drew them closer together, not further apart.=20 //Come on Lady It's crazy I'm thinking Just as long as you're around And here I'll be dancing on the ground Am I right side up or upside down To each other we'll be facing By love we'll beat back the pain we've found You know I mean to tell you all the things=20 I've been thinking deep inside My friend With each moment the more I love you// =20 Friendship. That what it's really about. Being lovers was wonderful, but wi= thout friendship was meaningless. Willow told Oz everything that happened in her life. This = led to a tendency to babble, which Oz found endearing. Oz was a man of few words himself, but= when he did speak it was direct and straight from the heart. One word from Oz could speak nov= els. And to Willow, it did. Of course, love isn't always serious. Love is fun, light hearted. Oz could = make Willow giggle with a glance. She in turn, found the only place on his body that was tickl= ish. Yet another facet of their relationship that no one would ever see.=20 //Crush me=20 Come on=20 Lady=20 So much you have given love=20 That I would give you back=20 Again and again=20 Meaning I'll hold you=20 And please=20 Let me always ...// Willow closed her eyes as the last chord faded into nothingness. When she o= pened them again, the guitar was on the bed, and her love was looking into her eyes.=20 "Always?" Willow asked breathlessly.=20 "Always."=20 Fin Ailie McFarland WILLOW: Well, I like you. You're nice and you're funny. And you don't smoke= . Yeah, okay, werewolf, but that's not all the time. I mean, three days out of the month I'm not mu= ch fun to be around either. OZ: You are quite the human. WILLOW: So, I'd still if you'd still. OZ: I'd still. I'd *very* still. OZ: Would it help you if I panic? WILLOW: Yes, it'd be swell. Panic is a thing people can share in times of c= risis, and everything's really scary now, you know, and I don't know what's going to happen and the= re is all sorts of things you're supposed to get to do afterhigh school and I was really lo= oking forward to doing them and now we're probably just going to die and I'd like to feel yo= u maybe you would ... (Oz shuts her up with a kiss) What are you doing? OZ: Panicing. WILLOW: Oz...don't you love me? OZ: My whole life, I've never loved anyone else. - - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 8 Mar 2001 20:53:16 -0500 From: "Michele Bumbarger" Subject: (arfic-l) Beta Request I'm soiliciting again. I'm looking for a beta-reader for my Worlds Away story. I already have one, but I figure one can never have too many betas. Anyone out there up to the challenge? First come, first server, folks :-) ******** Michele B. Author, Archivist & Webmistress a l t e r n a t e REALITIES Fan Fiction Archive http://www.alternate-realities.net ******** - - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------ Date: Sat, 10 Mar 2001 13:37:23 EST From: AgentRacerX@cs.com Subject: Re: (arfic-l) FIC: And So It Goes (0/1) Hey, I loved the webpage! The background image made the reading a bit difficult, but aside from that, it was very nice. As for the fic, that was great, too! I adore Quatre. Faith's reaction to him (the whole teddy bear bit) made me laugh). And then the rest of the fic depressed me (well, all except for Faith trying to drive Heero crazy). But that's OK! I'm interested in reading the backstory, if you're interested in writing it! Take care, - -Nicole ____________________________ http://members.tripod.com/Agent_Racer_X - - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------ Date: Sat, 10 Mar 2001 17:41:06 EST From: AgentRacerX@cs.com Subject: (arfic-l) 'nother beta request I'm currently about 3/4 done (14 pages) with a Dragon Ball Z story. And no, it's not a little kids show. It handles some pretty heavy stuff at times, and what I'm trying to work with here is the heaviest. I'm straying from my usual writing style, which involves a lot of dialogue, to a story that's made up almost completely of narrative, so I'd really like someone to tell me how I'm handling everything and what I should work on. There's also a lot of prodding at Mirai no Trunks' and Mirai no Gohan's psyches. I suppose that some knowledge of the Mirai (future) timeline would be helpful, but I could probably fill you in on anything you don't know. Thanks! - -Nicole __________________________ http://members.tripod.com/Agent_Racer_X - - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------ End of arfic-l-digest V1 #9 *************************** - To unsubscribe to $LIST, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe $LIST" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message.