From: buffyfic-owner@xmission.com (buffyfic Digest) To: buffyfic-digest@xmission.com Subject: buffyfic Digest V1 #40 Reply-To: buffyfic@xmission.com Sender: buffyfic-owner@xmission.com Errors-To: buffyfic-owner@xmission.com Precedence: buffyfic Digest Wednesday, October 15 1997 Volume 01 : Number 040 In this issue: Re: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (4/6) BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (3A/6) BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (5a/6) BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (5b/6) See the end of the digest for information on subscribing to the buffyfic or buffyfic-digest mailing lists and on how to retrieve back issues. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Tue, 14 Oct 1997 02:32:22 +0100 From: northcat@juno.com Subject: Re: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (4/6) I seem to be missing part 3 and 5 of this story. Did they not get sent out or is it just my mailing service. Thanks in advance. Northcat-GASPer, keeper of Giles' office ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 15 Oct 1997 03:39:47, -0500 From: VQRW76A@prodigy.com (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR) Subject: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (3A/6) See part 1 for disclaimers. Comments welcomed at vqrw76a@prodigy.com "Shadow of an Apocalypse" (3a/6) by Christina Kamnikar copyright 1997 The sun had almost set by the time I got to the high school and parked my car in the teacher's lot. There were only one or two other cars there, including Rupert's junker. Not that mine's much better; neither of us can afford the kinds of cars most of our students drive---bought and paid for by their parents. I hurried inside, wondering what could be scary enough to force Snobby to admit that he needed 'back up', and hoping it was just the deaths of four students in the school. Praying it wasn't anything more. I got my first shock of the night when I entered the library. Sunnydale's mild-mannered but acid-tongued librarian had opened the locked storage area where older books were usually kept and was busily extracting weapons from a cabinet I hadn't ever noticed before. "Rupert?" He turned to me with an enquiring expression, a glittering steel dagger in one hand, a handful of ninja throwing stars in the other. I gulped, feeling my eyes widen. "Are you arming for an invasion? Should I have brought my brass knuckles?" I picked up a knife, curved and deadly-looking, that he'd placed on one of the reading tables. "I mean, did you confiscate these from students, or what?" "Not precisely." He smiled thinly, adding the stars and dagger to the collection growing in the main library. His disheveled appearance from the day before had been smoothed as if it never existed, his cuffs buttoned, tie in place; only the deep weariness around his eyes hinted at any mental upset. "I've had these for quite some time---they're part of an extensive collection. They may be necessary in facing what's to come." I carefully replaced the knife, trepidation getting a claw-hold in my stomach again. "You said you were going to explain what's going on. Does it include a good reason for what happened this morning?" "Yes. You deserve to know what's going on, and if the worst occurs, someone else should be prepared for the consequences." He didn't look at me, and instead went back to rummaging in the weapons locker as he spoke, selecting one weapon, discarding another, bringing some back to the small display on the table. His voice remained even and calm as he began to lecture on what was obviously a very familiar subject. He didn't sound as if he particularly cared if I believed his explanation or not; and it struck me that for Rupert, things like other people's opinions had ceased to matter a long time ago. You couldn't say what he was saying as coolly as he was without having come to terms with what most people's reactions would be. //Either that, or he *does* trust you. And is more desperate than you thought.// "I expect you're aware that Sunnydale has a long history as a center of paranormal activity?" "It's come up in a couple conversations," I said cautiously. "My friend Cami mentioned some Spanish superstitions when I moved here; and I've got a few friends who've mentioned that this whole area of the coast seems to be jinxed...." It had actually seemed like a plus, back then. A chance to come in contact with concrete magic. Now, though, I realized I should have done more research before I accepted the position as Sunnydale High's comp sci teacher. "Cursed may be more accurate," Rupert said, stringing a crossbow and testing the sights. "'Boca del Infierno' was the Spanish name. 'Hellmouth' in English; rather more daunting in the original language...." He replaced the crossbow and began examining a set of stilettos, sliding them out of their scabbards and checking them for who-knew-what; rust? Sharpness? A sense of surreality hit me as I watched Snobby competently and fearlessly mess with some very nasty weapons. //I would have thought he'd hate this sort of thing....// "In any event, the upshot is the same: we are living on one of the dimensional gates to the demonic plane." "Whoa. Wait a minute. Back up a bit." I leaned forward, catching his gaze as he placed some of the curved daggers on the table, picking up the throwing stars and carrying them back to the collection. "Are you saying that *Sunnydale* is like... Angkor Wat? Stonehenge? Atlantis?" I sat down on one of the chairs, some of the weirdness of the last months falling into place. "A focus point for paranormal energy? One of the places in the world where you can move from--- world to world..." My voice trailed off as I considered the implications, shivering. //The site for the Last Battle?// And I'd been so hyped about getting a job within driving distance of San Francisco. "Specifically, the Hellmouth opens from our world to the first worlds of demons," Rupert was saying, his mouth tightening as he studied me; probably for signs of disbelief. His voice dropped as he went on. "Such portals are usually sealed, of course; their permanent opening would leave our world very vulnerable to... a great many things. But they can't be contained completely; they leak magic into our world as a matter of course. An area around a Hellmouth *will* attract the kinds of energy you mentioned---much of it very negative." He sighed, very softly, so softly I almost didn't catch it, then went on in a brisker tone. "Approximately sixty years ago, an attempt was made to open the Hellmouth." "Who would be crazy enough to do that?" I asked, swallowing hard, disbelief making my voice rise. "A vampire king." I stared at Rupert; he stared back, eminently sane, utterly British, waiting for me to protest, clear grey eyes evaluating my mental state while I tried to grasp the impossible. I opened my mouth; closed it. Picked up one of the little daggers and thought for a few seconds, my fingers shaking. "Okay," I murmured, nodding, not doubting him, even though every self-preservation instinct I had was screaming at me to get the hell out of there. "Okay." I put the dagger down, thinking of the kids in the A/V room. The urge to say "there are no vampires" came and went. Giles has a sense of humor, but it's not that sick. If he said there was a vampire king, there was a vampire king. I felt queasy, terrified, and vaguely silly; every movie cliche' I'd ever happily giggled over came back to me now with horror-tinged clarity. Somehow, I'd never taken my acceptance of the reality of Power into that dark an alley. But if there's Light in the world---and I know there is---there has to be Dark, doesn't there? I suddenly saw how naive I'd been, to never realize what that really meant before. //Someone has to fight the Dark. Here. Now.// Rupert was getting ready to do just that. In a couple minutes, I was going to have to ask him how I could help.... Taking a deep breath, I asked, "What has this got to do with the kids who were killed this morning?" "A great deal, unfortunately." A thread of pain wound through the matter-of-factness in his voice. Everything about Rupert was stretched taut, I realized; his voice, his movements, every muscle in his body---all seemed to be conserving energy for the fight to come. Whatever fight that was. "The Master, as he is called, has been trapped in the Hellmouth itself since the attempt he made in 1939--there was an earthquake that interrupted his spellcasting, and he was unable to free himself. The prophesied end to his imprisonment is approaching, and as the spell holding him weakens, more and more of his brethren have been gathering in Sunnydale. Thus... the attack, last night, upon the students who were here." The impersonal tone he'd been trying to affect slipped at the end of this speech, the previous ache palpable in his voice again; I thought of Willow, finding the bodies of her friends, and flinched away from the image as Rupert continued speaking. "If he succeeds in freeing himself, he will complete the incantation, and the Hellmouth will open. Leaving our world open to all the denizens of the demonic plane." "Goddess." I laced my fingers together, putting my head down on them and trying to think while Snobby made a few moves with a long axe, then thoughtfully returned it to the locker. I put what Rupert had told me together with what little I knew of Brother Luca's prophecies, and had a clearer picture about what we were up against. Panic hovered at the edges of my mind, and I told it to go away until after I was done grilling Rupert; it scuttled off for a bit, but not to where I couldn't see it hanging around still. I let my hands drop down from my face, and glared at Snobby. "Assuming that I can keep all this straight---and that it makes sense in the first place---how the _hell_ did you find all this out before I even had a clue?" "Ah." He had the grace to look guilty, I'll give him that. "We come to the more difficult part of the explanation now, I'm afraid. More difficult to believe, I mean...." He looked appealingly at me, possibly for a reprieve, but I just rolled my eyes. "I can't imagine how, Rupert. We've covered Hellmouths, vampire kings, and prophecy fulfillment in the last five minutes, what can *possibly* out-weird what you've told me so far?" "Good point." "You're stalling," I accused him. "You're absolutely correct." He took off his glasses, polished them with a handkerchief, put them back on, then determinedly forged on, watching my face the whole time, for --- what? Panic? Laughter? I realized we were getting to the part that actually impacted us just before Snobby finally confessed all. "My family has been interested... no, involved, in the occult, for generations. It's a long tradition, most of it concerned with vampires, and vampire watching... That's... what I am. A Watcher." I could hear the capital letter he put on the word, the emphasis he gave it, and understood that that was how he thought of himself: not as a librarian, or a teacher, or a historian, but a Watcher. "We have records dating back centuries; copies of the prophecies, predictions, dates... et cetera. All indications are that the Master will be freed tonight, through the actions of a vampire known as the Anointed One." "You've spent your whole life watching vampires?" I was beginning to feel punchy again, perception fighting reality and losing badly, the more Rupert told me about himself. I had a sudden image of Snobby noting down the flight habits of the North Californian Blood-Sucking Vampire in little book, with binoculars around his neck. I shook my head, wishing I'd gotten more sleep that morning. "Well... no. Not my entire life. And not vampires, really." He seemed embarassed, and adjusted his glasses again, glancing away from me. "Actually, I've been priviledged to be the teacher, and Watcher, of the Slayer." * Continued in part 3b Comments to vqrw76a@Prodigy.com Christina }|{ ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 15 Oct 1997 03:41:18, -0500 From: VQRW76A@prodigy.com (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR) Subject: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (5a/6) Disclaimers in part 1. Comments! I love 'em! Send to vqrw76a@prodigy.com "Shadow of an Apocalypse" (5/6) by Christina Kamnikar copyright 1997 I made myself coffee from some instant junk which Rupert had lying in the bottom drawer of his file cabinets, while he combed through the back stacks for reference material he needed. Giles had fixed some tea and thrown back several aspirin a few minutes before; he still didn't appear to be in great shape, but it wasn't bad enough to stop him. I'm not sure how bad it _would_ have had to be, to force him to quit searching for a way out at that point. Willow had slumped into one of the chairs immediately after Xander left, looking shocky and numb. Maybe she was still thinking about what she'd found that morning---or maybe she was worrying about her friends, out there facing monsters and dire predictions. I left her alone to try to cope, unsure whether she would welcome an intrusion on her thoughts, and drank my caffeine with a grimace, knowing I would need it even though it made me long for something decent. //We might be facing an all-nighter here. Who knows how long it'll take us to find a spell powerful enough to close a Hellmouth.// If we even could. I frowned as Rupert descended the steps, thinking hard as he spoke to me. "The Master is as old as any vampire on record. There's no telling how powerful he'll be if he reaches the surface." Rupert's arms were piled high with old leather-bound books, thick and weighty enough to squash small plants--- or at least intimidate them. I was too far into my new idea to really notice at that moment. "Okay, here's my question. The Hellmouth opens...." I mused aloud, following my train of thought to what I realized was a vital concern. "Yes?" Rupert asked, prompting me. I turned around, gesturing with my coffee cup. "Where? If he's underground and it opens right where he is, where is it going to open?" "Good point." The Brit looked thoughtful, his eyes unfocusing for a moment before he came back to the present. "Well, you should look through the back Chronicles---" He handed me one of the heavy doomsday books, and I hefted it with mild annoyance. Of *course* it hadn't been scanned into the computer a month ago; it was part of his private collection. //If we live through this, Snobby, this is going onto a disk...// "Willow. Willow?" Giles repeated, catching the girl's eye. "Hunh?" Willow blinked at him, still appearing stunned, clearly not paying attention to our conversation. "Could you look through the local histories, please. Check for any common denominators, locations of incidences and such." Giles' stutter faded in and out as he spoke, seeming preoccupied with his research and unaware of Willow's emotional state. "Right, okay," she nodded obediently and stood up, going over to the computer behind the returns desk. "She ought to be at home," I said in a low voice, settling into one of the uncomfortable reading chairs and propping my feet up on another. "Where it's safe." "I know," Rupert responded quietly, looking over his glasses at Willow. "And I would agree. But it is her choice... and we shouldn't deny her the opportunity to support her friends. She wants to be here, and she wants to help. Perhaps it will be of help to her, to be able to do something," he murmured softly, turning the pages of a Latin spellbook. "All right. I suppose," I mumbled, trying to find the Index in my volume. "But if she looks like she's getting shaky again, I'm taking her home." "Very well. I don't believe she'll need it, though. Willow is a very loyal person. And much stronger than she looks," Giles said gently, already absorbed in his research. I studied him for a second, then started scanning the Chronicle. Incredible amounts of information about vampires were contained in its pages, much of it going back to 1910, when another earthquake and vampire infestation had hit Sunnydale. Some of it was terrifying, some of it borderline unbelievable; all of it would have made best-selling horror fiction. //Except it's real, Nik. It's all real, it's here, and you have to find a clue, some clue about how to make it all go *away*....// I thumbed through pages and pages of entries, finding a few references that looked promising, but none of them were specific enough when I kept reading. //What kind of person writes all this stuff down, but doesn't have any notes on how to disperse the enemy? I can't believe they were all just depending on Slayers all these years!// Except it worked. Entry after entry detailed Slayer kills, their abilities, and how they executed legions of the undead and emerged unscathed. Most of the time. Much of the time. But... it was plain, very, very plain, even from a small smattering of reading, that Slayers did not die of natural causes. Someday, Buffy would be one of these entries. She would make a mistake, be a little too slow, suddenly get overwhelmed by numbers; and then she would merely be one of many. One of the former Slayers. A deceased Slayer. Rupert had to know this. I stared at the pages of the book unseeingly, turning that fact over in my mind. It was inevitable that Buffy would die in the line of duty. Even if we saved her tonight (which was becoming increasingly unlikely as time passed) there would come a day when all her luck and skill couldn't save her. How had Giles come to terms with that? How did he cope with the knowledge that someone he cared about---cared about a great deal, if I was any judge---was going to die a violent death, probably too young to have even had a life? Did he just hope he wouldn't be alive to see it, that she'd outlive him? Or was he that devoted to his principles, that he could accept that there would be another Slayer, someday? //Probably neither. He was willing to face the Master for her tonight. 'I defy prophecy.'// I closed my eyes for a second, overwhelmed. //Maybe he's just willing to go to any lengths to protect her, and that allows him to keep going.// And maybe that was the only way to face the Dark. To not surrender one inch, one hour, or one breath to it---and maybe gain back some ground that way. I opened my eyes and covertly studied Giles, who was still poring over a tome more frightening than the one I was stuck with. 'Snobby', as I'd originally perceived him to be, wouldn't have been willing to fight hard for anything. I'd thought he was a close-minded, cold, unfeeling, convention-bound elitist. After the Moloch incident, I'd known that he was nowhere near as conventional or unfeeling as he first appeared. But I still wouldn't have dreamed that he would be capable of conceiving of facing a vampire king alone. That kind of imagination and guts was pretty damn rare. //The only way that nickname fits him now is in describing his accent,// I thought ironically. //And let's face it, you *really* like the accent....// I pulled my wandering thoughts back onto the Chronicles, unwilling to take _that_ thought any further in our current situation. We spent the next twenty minutes like that, until I gave up and pushed the book aside. "There's nothing in there that'll help.... Rupert, have we got _any_ clue about what to do if the Master rises?" "Somewhat. There are ceremonies for closing portals, and killing demons-- although none of them are simple or painless," the Brit said in t ight voice. He rubbed his temples, then took off his glasses, squinting in the low light of the library book lamps. "Let's think about this... The vampires have been gathering, they know he is coming, they will be his army...." "You think they'll gather at the Hellmouth?" I asked, starting to get hopeful, wondering how we could track vampires. //Verrrry carefully, Jenny.// "The last time the Master tried to rise was during the Harvest," Willow piped up, joining us at the library table, looking much less shocky than she had twenty minutes before. //Points to Snobby... Rupert. No, Giles, damnit. He was right, she needed to have something to do. I'm glad he wasn't wrong.// "He sent a bunch of vampires to get him fresh blood," the teen continued. I glanced from Willow to Giles. "Where did that go down?" Giles looked stunned, and put his glasses back on as he answered me. "The Bronze---" Willow's eyes widened in the realization that had hit the Watcher and me at the same time: that the coffee bar would be full of potential victims tonight, despite the morning's tragedy. They hadn't had time to call it off... "The Prom!" "We have to warn them," the Brit said urgently, starting to rise. "No, we'll go. You have to concentrate on demon killing," I said firmly, pushing him back into his chair and grabbing my purse and car keys. How we were going to get them out of the Bronze was another question--- claim a bomb threat? Contagious virus? I turned to go, gesturing to Willow to join me, knowing I couldn't do it alone even if I wanted to. "My car's in the lot." "Stay close together, and for goodness sake be careful!" Giles called after us. "We will," Willow told him reassuringly as we left the library, sounding very serious and adult. It reminded me of Xander, and Buffy before him. That was the last quiet, sane second I had. Right there.... We got to the parking lot, Willow jittery, me nervous and hurrying, fumbling with my keys and praying that I could speed across town without running into any cops, when Willow spoke up. "What if they get to the Bronze before we do?" she asked anxiously, her voice high and worried. I looked up from trying to find my keys and came to a dead stop. "Don't need to worry about that." My voice sounded very even and cool to my own ears, just as my pulse started trip-hammering. "Why not?" Willow bumped into me, and I instinctively put my arm out to shield her. I could hear her quick intake of breath even as I said, "'Cause they're not going to the Bronze." Dozens of shambling, grotesque figures were coming out of the fog. I swallowed hard, finally seeing vampires for the first time: feral eyes, animalistic faces, and an air of.... evil. The fog seemed to bring a smell of decay with it, trying to seep into my clothes, forcing me to breathe through my mouth. I can't describe it; but I wanted to run. I wanted to *flee*, get the hell out of there... they weren't funny, they weren't unbelievable, they were gut-numbingly awful, and _wrong_. Things that shouldn't exist. Willow and I turned to run, and damnit, there were *more* of the ugly suckers, coming around behind us. "Why are they coming here?" I asked, trying to grasp how this could be happening without any warning at all--- "Not caring!" Willow's voice was rising in panic, and then we heard the screech of car tires. I whirled around to see Cordelia Chase's BMW pull up nearly on top of me. "Get in!" Cordelia shouted, and we rushed into the car, opening doors while she was talking to us, high and fast. Maybe she'd had her learner's permit revoked twice already, but I was never so glad for an offered ride in my life. "I was sitting where Kevin and I used to park, and all of a sudden these *things* are coming at me!" Willow had just slammed her door shut, when one of the "things" stuck its head down over the windshield. All three of us screamed in surprise and fright, and I gulped in big breaths of air, feeling my heart pound. "What do we do now?" I yelled at Willow, hoping she had some idea. Goddess knew, I didn't. Not one. I was too busy trying not to panic. "We have to get to the library!" Willow responded, still keeping her head better than I was. * Continued in part 5b Comments welcomed at vqrw76a@Prodigy.com Christina }|{ ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 15 Oct 1997 03:44:29, -0500 From: VQRW76A@prodigy.com (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR) Subject: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (5b/6) See part 1 for disclaimers. Comments appreciated at vqrw76a@prodigy.com. "Shadow of an Apocalypse" (5b/6) by Christina Kamnikar copyright 1997 Cordelia's eyes narrowed scarily in fury and concentration. "Library, great!" She floored the accelerator, veering around the parking lot and dislodging the hitchhiking monster on the roof--- then headed straight for the school doors, showing a fine disregard for school property that she usually reserved for the feelings of the nerdier students around her. Vampires scattered as she gained speed, not wanting to test their immortality, I supposed. "Of course, we generally walk there..." Willow observed in a quavery voice as I clutched onto the dashboard. The car smashed through two sets of doors, splintering wood and metal not slowing the BMW one whit, then zoomed down the hall to come to a squealing halt in front of the library doors. The three of us piled out rapidly, the monsters still at our heels as we slammed the doors to the library shut. Cordelia and Willow gave involuntary screams as the vampires started pushing at the doors---and, well, maybe I couldn't stop myself from yelling a little too. "What's happening!" Giles asked in alarm, getting to his feet as we tried to keep the monsters out. "Guess!" I screamed back at him over the growls of the attacking monsters and the screams of the other two. Giles rushed to push the Xerox machine in front of the door, while Willow used the "Quiet Please" sign to bash the fingers of the encroaching vampires. Cordelia and I pushed bookshelves across the doorway. The Brit stuck the sign through the handles of the door then yelled, "Why are they coming *here*?" I didn't respond, since I still didn't have an answer for that one. There had to be a reason, but whatever it was, we had bigger problems. "Hurry, hurry, hurry---" I muttered as we tried to strenghten the barricade. Some noise distracted the librarian, and he pointed toward the far wall. "They're coming in through the stacks!" "The bookshelves!" Willow shouted, and the two of us raced across the room to push the empty shelves in front of the back windows. I could see the faces of grinning, snarling vampires through the glass and shuddered, trying to get the barriers in place before any of the windows were broken. An aghast exclamation of "My office!" grabbed my attention for a second, and I turned to see Giles run into his private den to bar the windows in there. A loud <> against the front entrance distracted me, in time to see an arm snake through the window and grab Cordelia. "Somebody help!" she screamed, dark eyes wide with terror and panic as she pushed her whole weight against the rattling barrier. But Willow's and my shelves were shaking too, as the vampires punched through the windows and tried to dislodge our protection. Besides that, I'd realized with sinking dread that we were doomed. //We're gonna die. In horror movies, they wait the monsters out until sunrise---but that's hours and hours and hours away. We're gonna die.// Giles hadn't had time to find any spells; we wouldn't be able to find the Hellmouth and close it; the puny weapons that we had with us in the library weren't going to be enough to hold off an army... //Oh, Goddess. Help. Someone, help....// Neither of the girls had realized how bad our dilemma was yet. Cordelia was turning and actually sank her teeth into the arm holding her, eliciting a howl from the monster that didn't drown out her angry comment of "See how *you* like it!" Yelling, "This won't keep them out for long!", Willow pushed her body back against the bookshelves as I exerted all my strength trying to keep them in place. //We don't have a spell. Or a plan. Or any weapons, really. We're toast. But I can't tell her that---// I wanted to cry. I wanted a miracle. Willow let out a high, terrified shriek and then started to fall forward. A slimy gray tentacle, leading down into the main crack caused by the earthquake, was wrapped around her ankle---and it was pulling. I grabbed her, trying to help her keep her balance, and the thing yanked again, pulling us both to the floor with its unexpected strength. "Giles! GILES!" I yelled, trying to keep a grip on Willow--- With a sound like an exploding drum, the rest of the monster blossomed out of the crevace, shrieking and gurgling as it rose. Three-headed, huge, snaky, wormy, gray, disgusting---and laughing at us with a mouthful of sharp, pointy teeth. "The Hellmouth..." I heard Giles gasp. //Oh, that would be why....// flashed through my mind, but I didn't even bother following up the realization, digging my fingers into the girl's arms as she screamed and the demon tried to pull us closer. "Giles!!" I was screeching by now. Out of the corner of my vision I saw Giles grab an axe from the table and rush to help us. Willow couldn't stop screaming; she was twisting and struggling to get away from the awful thing as I grimly held onto her, desperately attempting to keep it from dragging her into the crevace. "GILES!" //God, Goddess, we're going to die---// Giles raised the axe and landed a harsh >thwack< on the monster's chortling head, his face contorted with the effort, then pulled it out and landed another blow as I tried to get Willow free. My throat was sore from screaming, Willow was whimpering and shrieking, and I concentrated on just hanging on, trying not to let go of her.... The Hell Hound whipped around, shooting its tentacles toward Giles, and threw him half-way across the room into one of the reading tables. He landed with enough force to splinter the table, and one head hovered menacingly above him as another gurgled inches from me and Willow. //Giles...// Sick and despairing, I felt the monster start to inch Willow closer across the carpet. //Is Giles okay, no, no, this isn't the way it's supposed to happen, I don't want to die, oh Goddess please NO// A shattering crash came from above as the skylight shattered, and a body fell down through it onto the ruined remains of the overturned table and impaled itself. It was a vampire, hideous, dressed in black leather; and it almost immediately began to dissolve as the vampire's continued screams tapered off, blood-red dust rising from the corpse to reveal the bone underneath. The Hound gave one last almighty howl and let go of Willow before sliding across the floor, disappearing back down into the crevace. Gasping, I looked up and saw Buffy looking back through the broken skylight. She smiled triumphantly downward for a second, then disappeared from view. "It's gone?" Willow whispered, and I nodded, unable to speak. "Yay...." "Yay," I echoed, hugging her, and she smiled in incandescent relief and hugged me back before carefully sitting up. I noticed that the sounds of the vampires trying to get in had stopped, and the shelves were no longer rattling. //Guess the Army of Darkness had better things to do than hang around here....// "Is everyone all right?" I turned over, propping my arms up on my elbows and resting my chin on my hands. Smiling giddily, I met Rupert's eyes with unalloyed relief. "Are you both unhurt?" he asked urgently, leaning against the stairway rail, his eyes darting from Willow to me and back. "We're fine, Giles. Are you okay? It looked like you landed pretty hard," Willow said, climbing to her feet and brushing dust off her tights. "Shaken, but no broken bones," Giles said, his own smile escaping. "That was the *ickiest* thing I have _ever_ seen," Cordelia declared from the doorway, where she was slumped bonelessly against the shelves and Xerox machine. "Where did it go? It's not coming back, is it?" "Back where it came from. And no, I wouldn't think it would be returning," Giles answered, adjusting his glasses. "Did you see, on the roof---" "Buffy? Yeah." I grinned wider, and Willow's eyes lit up. Everything about Giles had loosened for perhaps the first time that night. I knew how he felt; my own muscles felt like they'd uncoiled into Silly Putty when I saw the Slayer above me through the skylight. "She's okay? *Cool*!" Willow bounced down the stairs toward the door, and started helping Cordelia move the furniture. "Can I have hysterics now?" I asked Giles. "No. I get to have them first," he replied firmly, helping me to my feet. "Spoilsport." A few minutes later a bruised but very alive Buffy, her hair mussed, claw marks across her chest, entered the library. Xander and another, dark-haired older kid, maybe about nineteen or twenty, came in with her, both of them appearing unharmed. Cordelia was straightening up the last of the door barricade as they walked in, and Willow and I finished moving the shelves and joined Giles in the middle of the library, next to the corpse of the vampire who had to have been the Master. "The vampires?" Giles asked in concern, looking from Xander to Buffy, his eyes still not completely free of worry. Cordelia shrugged, looking mystified. "Gone. "The Master?" The stranger asked, obviously someone else who knew all about Slayers and vampires and prophecies. He was handsome in a clear-cut way, and I guessed that Xander had called him in to help when he went after Buffy. "Dead. The Hellmouth is closed," Giles answered him, then turned to the slender figure in white staring at the vampire's skeleton. "Buffy? Buffy?" He asked in concern. Buffy blinked, coming out of her hypnotized study of the Master, looking a little ragged around the edges. "Oh, sorry. It's just... been a really weird day," she said shakily, tears shimmering in her eyes. Whatever she had gone through had done more than just mess her hair up; but she seemed to be more exhausted than hurt, and her smile was unforced relief. "Yeah, Buffy died and everything," Xander commented nonchalantly. Now that the danger was past, I could tell that he was going to enjoy re-hashing the details, probably already forgetting whatever terrors he and Buffy and their friend had been through. "Wow. Harsh," Willow responded, impressed. Giles's voice was husky with emotion. "I should have known that wouldn't stop you," he said, sounding relieved, proud, happy, rueful and exhausted. Buffy smiled affectionately at him, no doubt hearing all the things he wasn't saying and seeing them in his barely-suppressed grin. "Well, what do we do now?" Cordelia asked, looking around at all of us expectantly. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I want to get out of this place. I don't like the library very much any more," Giles said gruffly, British understatement coming to the fore again. "Hey, I hear there's a dance at the Bronze," Xander pointed out. I stifled a chuckle, remembering that I was supposed to be chaperoning, and checked my watch. //8:30?? That nightmare felt like forever, and it's only 8:30? Guess Principal Snyder won't have any reason to yell at me, after all... // "Yeah!" Cordelia responded enthusiastically. "Buffy?" Willow said hopefully, her eyes dancing as she looked at her friend. The Slayer pursed her lips, considering. "Sure. We saved the world. I say we party." She looked down at her bedraggled self, then at the rest of us and added a little more tearily, "I mean, I got all pretty...." "What about him?" I asked, studying the remains of the Master with worry. The skeleton was still impaled on the broken table, a grisly reminder of what we'd just gone through. Buffy turned and studied the corpse in turn, her eyes darkening. "He's not going anywhere," she stated with eerie certainty. Then her lip curled into a classic teen-ager's sneer. "*Loser.*" We stood there a moment more, contemplating the dead vampire, then all of us turned and walked toward the door. I grabbed my purse from the library counter as we went by, and Giles told me, "I'm not dancing, that's understood..." "We'll see," I responded happily, too glad to be alive to tease him very hard. "What's with the car in the hall?" Xander asked bemusedly. "Oh, that was me, saving the day!" Cordelia said, sounding proud of herself, skipping over to her BMW and climbing in. "I'm *really* hungry..." Buffy mentioned as Giles held the door open for her. Willow was babbling something Angel about joining us at the dance, and he smiled crookedly, looking bemused. "By the way, I really like your dress," I heard Buffy's friend say as they went by, smiling at her crookedly. "Yeah, yeah, a big hit with everyone," the Slayer responded dryly, her eyes sparkling at him despite her words. "Who wants shotgun?" I asked, jingling my keys as we went out to the parking lot. Cordelia was backing her car out carefully, and I momentarily wondered how we were going to explain the destruction of the doors on Monday. //Well, I guess we can blame it on aftershocks? Or something...// Then again, total denial might be the smartest course. "Me!" Willow said, skipping ahead. "I'm not getting into a car with Cordelia," Xander said, raising his eyebrows and following Willow for a second, then pausing to look back at Buffy. The Slayer was already climbing into the front seat of Giles's junker, gathering her skirt together so it wouldn't drag. "I'll drive Angel and Buffy, and we'll meet you there," Giles said calmly, holding the rear door of his car for the other young man. Xander's shoulders hunched, and I nodded thoughtfully at Giles, then unlocked the car doors for my passengers. "...*really* glad you're okay, Xander," Willow was saying as I got in. "That was pretty smart, taking Angel along. But what did you mean when you said Buffy died?" "Oh, well, she was only dead a couple minutes. But I had to give her CPR, 'cause the Master had dropped her into this pool of water, so she'd gone into shock," Xander replied, cheering up at the chance to explain. "That's not something Angel could do," he added under his breath, and I glanced at him in the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of bitterness in his expression. "Good for you," I responded, getting us out of the parking lot. "Thanks." Xander's smile turned wry, and Willow leaned around the seat to squeeze his hand, her face full of admiration and sympathy. //What a mess. Xander loves Buffy, Willow's got a crush on Xander, and... well, I suppose Buffy and her friend Angel are okay, at least.// I shook my head, and turned down Main toward the Bronze, feeling a million years older than I had at the beginning of the evening. //Some things are constant, no matter what the circumstances, I guess. I'm glad I'm not sixteen anymore, that's for sure.... And I'm *so* glad we're still alive, even if it does mean playing chaperone at the Spring Fling!// We could hear sounds of the celebration about a block away, and I started to smile, finally beginning to believe it was all over with. * But the night's still young. :>> Go to part 6 to see the Spring Fling. Comments to vqrw76a@prodigy.com Christina This story is posted on the web at : http://www.enteract.com/~perridox/SunS.html ------------------------------ End of buffyfic Digest V1 #40 ***************************** To subscribe to buffyfic Digest, send the command: subscribe buffyfic-digest in the body of a message to "majordomo@xmission.com". If you want to subscribe something other than the account the mail is coming from, such as a local redistribution list, then append that address to the "subscribe" command; for example, to subscribe "local-buffyfic": subscribe buffyfic-digest local-buffyfic@your.domain.net A non-digest (direct mail) version of this list is also available; to subscribe to that instead, replace all instances of "buffyfic-digest" in the commands above with "buffyfic". Back issues are available for anonymous FTP from ftp.xmission.com, in pub/lists/buffyfic/archive. These are organized by date.