From: buffyfic-owner@xmission.com (buffyfic Digest) To: buffyfic-digest@xmission.com Subject: buffyfic Digest V1 #41 Reply-To: buffyfic@xmission.com Sender: buffyfic-owner@xmission.com Errors-To: buffyfic-owner@xmission.com Precedence: buffyfic Digest Friday, October 17 1997 Volume 01 : Number 041 In this issue: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (3b/6) BUFFYFIC: The Stranger (8/8) BUFFYFIC: The Stranger (7/8) BUFFYFIC: 50 Ways to Bleed Your Lover BUFFYFIC: Graveside Goodbye 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: Wed, 15 Oct 1997 03:42:36, -0500 From: VQRW76A@prodigy.com (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR) Subject: BUFFYFIC: Shadow of an Apocalypse (3b/6) Major TYK's to Dianne DeSha for helping me resend this! "Shadow of an Apocalypse" (3b/6) by Christina Kamnikar copyright 1997 "Slayer," I repeated in a flat voice, still trying to assimilate all the new information, trying to keep track of the players. "For each generation, there is one Slayer, a Chosen One---" "Like in the prophecy...." "Yes, as in the prophecy, who is born to stand againstthe Dark...." A very small, tired smile actually managed to break through the tension on his face, and his voice relaxed a little. "Buffy always says I enjoy explaining this too much," he murmured, turning back to the weapons locker. "Buffy... Summers?" The blonde, bouncy, smart-mouthed girl with the cynical eyes? She was sixteen. Willow's best friend. She couldn't be some supernatural dragonslayer. That wasn't possible. That was ridiculous. I'd heard him wrong. Right? "Mmmm." But Rupert was nodding, frowning at the contents of the locker again. "She's the Slayer." I blinked at him stupidly as he nattered on, blithely oblivious to my reaction. "And a rather gifted one, at that... The prophecy that she will face the Master tonight states that a vampire, known simply as the 'Anointed One' will deliver her into hell and into the Master's clutches... and she will die." His voice had turned bleak and harsh; I couldn't see his face, shadowed in the recesses of the cabinet. It suddenly hit me what all this feverish activity was about. Not just saving the world---which is noble, and great, and I'm not knocking it---but saving a kid we both knew from an ugly death. Like the kids in the A/V room that morning; like Dave and Fritz. I wanted to hug Giles at that moment, I liked him so intensely. Not for fighting for an intellectual principle, or the entire world, but for fighting for a girl he liked and cared about. I took a deep breath, and straightened a bit, a determination not to do any less than the Brit giving me focus. "Okay, so this Master guy tried to open the Hellmouth, but he got stuck in it. But now all the signs are reading that he'll get out, which opens the Hellmouth, which brings the demons, which ends the world," I concluded, fairly certain I had a handle on the basics. "Yes, that sums it up. Yes," Rupert answered distractedly, already absorbed in another sword he was testing. "The part that gets me is where Buffy is the vampire slayer. She's so *little*," I blurted out, trying to imagine petite Buffy playing Von Helsing with undead zombies, and failing totally. "Did you manage to get in touch with this Brother Luca chap?" Giles asked, ignoring my comment, focused on the weapons he was collecting again. If we were really facing the kind of Armageddon he was describing, he was probably smart. Although way, way optimistic, if he thought they'd really dent any demons.... "Mmmm. No." I grimaced. "As far as I can tell, no one can. He's disappeared. Did send out one last global, though. Short one." "What did it say?" "Isaiah 11:6, which I dutifully looked up---" I fumbled for the King James, but I didn't get a chance to show off. Because Rupert interrupted me before I could read him the quotation, obviously knowing it by heart already. "The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the kid, the calf, the lion and the fatling... and a little child shall lead them all." "Kind of warm and fuzzy for a message of doom," I commented doubtfully, although I was impressed by Rupert's memory. "That all depends on where he's leading them to," Rupert pointed out, continuing his preparations. "Aurelius wrote of the Anointed One that 'the Slayer will not know him, and he will lead her into Hell.'" "So Luca thinks the Anointed is a kid," I commented, fighting down nausea at the thought of a child-sized vampire. //I never _did_ like Anne Rice....// Snobby raised his eyebrows, still preoccupied with the weapons. "If the vampire Buffy killed was in fact not the Anointed One, it may well be." "Well then, we need to warn her." "I don't intend involving her at all," Rupert said with perfect detachment, calmly examining a ceremonial dagger on the table, then putting it back into its sheath. I blinked at him, lost again. "What do you mean?" "Buffy's not going to face the Master," Giles quietly answered, leaning against the table, looking me in the face for the first time in several minutes; composed and seeming almost tranquil in his decision. A chill ran up my spine at his expression. "I am." //What?!// A protest was rising to my lips, along with the urge to shake him until he got his sanity back, but I was forestalled by a voice interrupting our discussion and startling both of us. "No, you're not." Buffy Summers strolled forward from the library entrance; she must have been there for a while, but I'd been too caught up in deciphering the prophecy and worrying about Snobby's mental health to notice her. She looked lovely, her hair up in a tendriled ponytail, with a black leather jacket thrown over a beautiful gauzy white prom gown. //The Prom...// Surreality assaulted me again; the slender girl in front of me couldn't be any kind of Chosen One, despite what Rupert said. The air of fragile toughness about her was the same as that of any teenager, equal parts bravado and real reckless bravery. Her next words still didn't dispell my disbelief: "So, I'm looking for a kid, hunh? And he'll lead me to the Master?" Rupert straightened, his expression taking on a warning cast. "Buffy, I'm not going to send you out there to die." He had his hands on his hips, mimicking Buffy's stance. The similarities between them, the body language of long acquaintance, started to sink in then; and I think that's when I started being afraid, really afraid, and I began to believe what Giles had told me about Buffy and the prophecy. "You were right, I've waded about in those old books for so long, I've forgotten what the real world is like." He set his jaw, stiff upper lip very much in evidence. "It's time I found out." "You're still not going up against the Master," Buffy contradicted him. "I've made up my mind," Snobby said obstinately. "So've I," Buffy rejoined, not budging an inch. I swallowed, feeling left behind, left out, on the wrong page of the music; this was about more than the end of the world, I could see that. They'd discussed this before, disagreed about what to do, or what was going to happen---and now Rupert was volunteering to take her place. And Buffy wasn't willing to let him do that, when most kids would be whimpering with relief. Out of affection, or a sense of responsibility, or sheer pigheadedness; and I understood how Snobby could care about this kid enough to want to save her for her own sake. "I made up mine first!" Rupert retorted, sounding like a recalcitrant six-year-old. "I'm older and wiser than you, and you will just do what you're told for once!... All right?" His outrage lost a lot of its strength on that last plea; I clenched my own jaw to keep myself from interrupting. What was the right thing to do? //Stop this, we can't just go along with this kind of destiny---// But I didn't like Rupert's solution any better.... Buffy gave a tiny headshake, smiling at Rupert with compassion, and maybe a little bit of pity, and seeming in that instant much older than sixteen. "That's not how it goes. _I'm_ the Slayer." "I don't care what the books say. I defy prophecy, and I am going. There's nothing you can say will change my mind," Rupert stated, his outward calm doing nothing to mask the feeling behind his assertion. "I know." There was total acceptance and understanding in those two words; and then tiny Buffy reached up nearly a foot and landed a right cross Holyfield would have paid for <> on Giles' jaw. The punch practically lifted him off his feet, and I could just about see cartoon birds circling his head as Snobby toppled over. I froze in shock for a second, reflexively thinking //a-student-just-hit-a-teacher!// before I could stop it, then I ran over to where Rupert was lying and lifted his head into my lap, hoping he hadn't cracked his head on the floor as he landed. When I looked up, Buffy was fastening a large cross that had lain on the table around her neck, and then she picked up the crossbow. I was still in shock, I think, still playing catch-up, worried about Snobby, scrambling to figure out what was going to happen next.... But I didn't doubt that Buffy was the Slayer any more. "When he wakes up tell him..." Buffy paused diffidently, shrugging and looking rueful. "I don't know. Think of something cool, tell him I said it." "If you face the Master, you'll die," I said. It was finally sinking in. Lose-lose situation; if the prophecy was fulfilled, the Master would get free, Buffy would die, and there was nothing I could do. If I tried to stop her, she'd probably land a haymaker on *my* jaw. "Maybe." Buffy's voice thinned, and her expression became more remote as she loaded the crossbow, then turned away from me. "Maybe I'll take him with me." I watched her go, feeling helpless, knowing how much it would hurt Giles when he woke up and realized she was gone, that he hadn't been able to stop her. I turned back to him, checking for extra bumps and bruises, then went to get the First Aid kit in his office, feeling desolate and shaky. All this time, they'd been fighting a war I didn't even know about; and now, it seemed, I was just in time to join up for the last engagement. I stared down at Rupert again, furious with him, admiring him, and aching for what was to come. "You should have told me sooner," I whispered. "I would have helped...." Too late for that, though. I just prayed it wasn't too late to make a difference this one last time. * Christina vqrw76a@Prodigy.com }|{ Comments? ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 15 Oct 1997 19:09:47 -0500 (CDT) From: perridox@enteract.com (Perri Smith) Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Stranger (8/8) See disclaimer in part 1. The Stranger (Part 8) by Perri Smith Copyright 1997 ***** Time passed. The police came in due course, after someone living near the Bronze phoned in the reports of gunshots, but the group managed to avoid them, slipping out through the fire exit and stumbling back to the hospital. Buffy stayed there for what was left of the night, falling almost instantly into a heavy sleep in the chair at her mother's side. Giles drove Willow and Xander the few short blocks to their houses, all of them too tired to contemplate the walk, then presumably went back to the hospital to look after Buffy. Willow fielded her parents' questions as she came in, managed to mumble out explanations and assurances that contented them, then fell face first onto her bed and slept dreamlessly. Rumors flew the next day at school, of gang shootouts and drug deals gone bad, despite the fact that no bodies had been found at the Bronze. Only a pile of dust and a single gun. Willow plowed her way through her classes, fell asleep sitting up only once, and studiously avoided Ms. Calendar, who saw way too much. A history test -- the one Buffy had found a way out of after all -- passed in a blur, then it was back to the hospital, where Buffy's mom was sitting up, talking and smiling and fussing about the gallery and Buffy missing school. She and the doctors finally shooed them all out, with assurances that Buffy's mom could go home the next day, and Willow and Xander escorted Buffy home. That night, as Willow listened soberly and more than a little tearfully, Buffy told her about the gypsy curse that Angel carried, about what Darla had been to him, and what he'd really done when he'd killed her. "So, she was like, his girlfriend?" Buffy sighed and shrugged, leaning back against her pillows wearily. There were still circles under her eyes that no amount of sleep could erase. "Girlfriend, mother, sister... I'm not sure. I think she was pretty much everything, all the time he was, um.... like the rest of them." Willow smiled understandingly from where she was curled up at the foot of Buffy's bed. Her parents had been all in favor of a sleepover, as had Giles - -- no one thought Buffy should be staying home alone. Xander's offer to join them for added security, however, had been roundly rejected. "So he really isn't one of them anymore, is he?" Willow said, thinking of Angel. "He's a good guy." Buffy nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess he is. It's still... weird, though. He's a vampire. I don't think I'm ever going to get used to that." "Join the club," Willow muttered ruefully. Buffy grinned unexpectedly, the first time she'd smiled in days. "I don't think *Giles* is ever going to get used to it; he just can't deal with the concept of a vampire actually *helping* the Slayer, much less saving her life." "He'll come around," Willow predicted with more confidence than she felt. "So will Xander." Buffy's smile faded. "If they get the chance." Willow bit her lip and studied the bedspread intently. Two days, and it was as if Angel had vanished when he'd left the Bronze. No lurking in corners, no warnings, no nothing. They didn't even know if he was all right, if he'd recovered from what Darla had done to him. And Willow wanted to know almost as badly as Buffy did. "Maybe he'll be at the Bronze tomorrow night," she offered hesitantly. "He probably doesn't want to come here since you threw him out the window and all." Buffy winced. "God, I can't believe I did that. I can't believe I tried to kill him. He probably saved my mom's life and I almost...." "But you didn't." Willow cut her off firmly, having heard this particular guilty gush three times in the last hour. "And he didn't exactly make it easy for you to figure out what happened." "But still...." Buffy stared out the window. "Willow, he killed her for me. She said he loves me, and then he killed her for me. What do I... What can I say to him after that?" "I don't know," Willow admitted, way out of her league. She'd take her nice, simple unrequited crush over this any day. "I wish I could help." "You are helping," Buffy said quietly. They sat in an awkward silence, then Willow cleared her throat. "Anyway, you missed the subtle hint, which meant, you *are* coming to the Bronze with us tomorrow night, aren't you?" "I don't know.... It'll be Mom's first night home. I should stay with her." Willow gave her a Look. "Buffy, she kicked you out of the hospital today because you were driving her crazy. I don't think she'll mind if you go. She'll probably push you out the door." Buffy grinned reluctantly. "You're right, she will." "So you'll go?" Willow persisted, leaning forward. "All right, all right!" Buffy started laughing. "You are really stubborn, you know that?" Willow shrugged and grinned. "I've been taking lessons from the best." Buffy made a face at her, then swatted her with a pillow. Willow instantly retaliated, and all seriousness was utterly forgotten. ***** The Bronze was rocking, relieved teenagers flocking the dance floor and trying to make up for the four days of musical deprivation. The trio stood in the entrance for a long minute, comparing the lively, cheerful place to the grim emptiness of only a couple days before. This way was *much* better, Willow decided. "Ah, the Post-Fumigation Party," Xander breathed happily, apparently in perfect agreement with Willow's thoughts. "Okay, so what's the difference between this and the Pre-Fumigation Party?" Buffy asked with amusement. "Much hardier cockroaches," Xander shot back. Buffy rolled her eyes, apparently realizing she'd walked into a *very* old Sunnydale joke. She still seemed amused, though; a rousing pillow fight followed by a full night's sleep in an actual bed had done wonders for her appearance and her attitude. She looked almost normal, if still a bit distant. "So, no word from Angel?" Willow asked for no reason. Then she caught a glimpse of the reason, leaning against the far wall, watching the three of them with eyes so intense Willow could almost feel them. Correction, watching Buffy. She looked away quickly, not wanting to blow his cover if he didn't want to be seen. They owed him that much, at least. "Nah," Buffy said, making a small face and trying to pretend it didn't matter. She completely blew the effect by wistfully adding, "It's weird though. In a way, I feel like he's still watching me." The hell with Angel's cover. "Well, in a way he sort of is," Willow gave him away without another thought. "In the way that, he's right over there." Buffy followed Willow's gesture and froze as her eyes locked with Angel's. In a second, everyone else in the room disappeared for both the Slayer and the vampire. Willow watched with interest and the slightest touch of envy as Buffy walked to meet Angel on the dance floor, both moving as if they were pulled together by an invisible string. If Xander had been even a little less intent on being cool and mature, he'd have been pouting. "I don't need to watch, because I'm not threatened," he declared to no one in particular, seating himself with his back very deliberately to the dance floor. "I'm just gonna look this way." Willow smiled and seated herself opposite him, adjusting herself until she had the best possible view. There was no way she was going to miss this -- now, if only she could lip read. Not that it mattered much; Buffy and Angel's faces were speaking volumes. Angel actually smiled once and Willow grinned in response -- he had a nice smile. Then, slowly and inevitably, Angel leaned forward to kiss Buffy, and Buffy wrapped herself in his embrace, oblivious to the crowds around them. Willow sighed with vicarious happiness. "What's going on?" Xander asked suspiciously, eyeing her. "Nothing," Willow lied, straight-faced. Xander smiled unconvincingly. "Well, as long as they're not kissing." It was probably best not to answer that, so Willow didn't. The couple on the dance floor moved apart slowly and reluctantly (to Willow's admittedly biased eyes); with only a few more words, Buffy backed away from Angel, her face sober. He stared after her as she left the dance floor, and, like two nights before, only Willow saw what was in his eyes. But she could only watch for a second before it felt like an invasion of privacy, and when she looked back, he was gone. Xander popped to his feet as soon as Buffy was within speaking range, opening his mouth to say something possibly witty, and almost certainly insulting towards Angel. But the look on her face stopped him before he could get the words out. Buffy was smiling a little, sadly, as if she'd just lost something really valuable, and had already resigned herself to never getting it back. Her eyes were very calm and steady, like they belonged to an entirely different person -- someone much older than sixteen. Xander hesitated, then, instead of saying anything, awkwardly put his arm around Buffy in a silent gesture of support; she leaned her head against his shoulder. Willow watched in helpless silence. "Are... are you okay?" she asked finally. "Sure," Buffy answered quietly and unconvincingly, straightening. Xander took the hint and let his arm fall away, but stayed close to her. Willow couldn't bring herself to mind. "We both... I know it would never work. It's just... one of those things." She sighed, fingering the cross at her throat, then grinned a little crookedly, and was suddenly sixteen again. Suddenly Buffy again. "Sometimes fate just sucks dead bunnies through a straw, you know?" Willow returned the grin with sympathy and relief. "I hear you," she agreed, rolling her eyes towards Xander. He, of course, was oblivious, all of his attention on Buffy, but Buffy got it and her smile widened a little. "Look, guys, I'm not really up for partying tonight. Would you mind if we bailed?" "Oh, hey, anywhere you want to go," Xander assured her instantly. "I'll... um, *we'll* walk you home." "Actually, I was kind of thinking more along the lines of Ben & Jerry's," Buffy admitted sheepishly. "I feel the need for a *major* chocolate binge." "Ice cream it is, then." Xander slung his arm around her shoulders again, but put the other around Willow this time, slipping into his adorable 'protective' mode. Willow was willing to settle for that; she put her arm around his waist, on top of Buffy's, and snuggled in. "And will it be Chunky Monkey for the ladies, or Triple Brownie Overload?" "Chunky Monkey," Willow answered promptly, at the same time that Buffy said, "Triple Brownie." They were still debating the point as they left the Bronze and headed down the street towards the ice cream bar, talking at the top of their lungs as if they could drive the night away by sheer volume. Willow lagged a few steps behind the other two, watching the shadows out of the corner of her eye. She thought she saw one of them move, but didn't worry about it; she was pretty sure she knew who was lurking there. On impulse, she called out softly, "Good night, Angel." There was no answer, but then, she hadn't expected one. So she just grinned and kept walking. She wasn't afraid of the shadows anymore; not as long as Angel was one of them. Finis - --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Perri I *am* the Buffy Evangalist! NatPacker-*-Horsechick-*-Pretender-*-Cohenhead-*-DDEB2-*-AGA-*-SunS-*-CoJ "I'm putting a collar with a little bell on that guy." -- Xander ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 15 Oct 1997 19:09:27 -0500 (CDT) From: perridox@enteract.com (Perri Smith) Subject: BUFFYFIC: The Stranger (7/8) See disclaimer in part 1. The Stranger (Part 7) by Perri Smith Copyright 1997 ***** They made it as far as the hospital room before Willow stopped, hearing Giles's voice from inside. He sounded upset, and looked even more so when he came striding out of the room, already pulling his coat on. "We have a problem," he announced, as the pair fell in step beside him. "Tell us something we didn't know," Xander said. Willow just looked seriously up at Giles, past the point of shock. "What happened now?" "I discovered who attacked Buffy's mother," Giles told them as they hurried past the nurses' station and onto the elevator. "And it wasn't Angel." "It wasn't?" Willow and Xander chorused in ragged, surprised unison. "Then... who was it?" Willow asked. "Someone called Darla, a vampire who presented herself as one of Buffy's friends." Giles punched impatiently at the elevator button, as if that would make it go faster. "She tricked Buffy's mother into inviting her inside, and then... Damn! I should have seen this coming, I should have taken precautions--" "What precautions?" Willow asked sensibly, as the elevator doors opened at last. Giles didn't bother to make sure they were following, or to head for his car, just took off down the street at something close to a run. Xander and Willow followed, Willow still arguing, "You didn't know someone would... Oh, no." Her eyes went wide as the implications hit. "Then Angel *isn't* the bad guy, he *didn't* hurt her mom, but Buffy's going to try to kill him anyway! We have to stop her!" "We do?" Xander blinked at her as well as he could while stumbling at a near run down a pitch-black street. "I mean, we don't know Angel didn't--" "Xander!" "All right, all right!" Xander backed down. "Where are we going?" "The Bronze," Giles told them over his shoulder without slowing. They didn't have any time to spare. Buffy had been gone for almost an hour, more than enough time to.... Willow forced the thought away and raced after Giles as he pushed his way through the underbrush, using a shortcut Willow hadn't even known existed. "We're near the Bronze," she panted, recognizing the buldings through the trees. "What now?" "We keep looking for her." "I've got a question," Xander spoke up from the rear. "What if we find her, and she's fighting Angel and some of his friends. What the heck are we gonna do about it?" Good question. A really good question. But not one Willow really wanted to hear. They'd do *something*, that was all that mattered. The Bronze was dark and deserted when they broke out of the trees and onto the parking lot. The fumigation hadn't been finished yet, so there were no lights, no music. It looked creepy as sin, even to someone who *wasn't* busy trying not to picture what was probably happening inside. Giles tried the side doors, which were locked, of course. No matter how much time they spent inside, never *once* had they been able to get into the Bronze when it was really important. There was a certain amount of irony in that, but Willow wasn't in any condition to appreciate it. "Xander, try the front," Giles ordered sharply, throwing his weight against the side door again. "Willow, the upper level, where Buffy got in during the Harvest." "Right." They both started to split off towards their assignments, before a sudden, sharp *crack*, instantly recognizable to anyone who'd ever seen NYPD Blue, stopped them in their tracks. "Did you just hear...?" Xander asked nervously. Yes, they had. Giles had gone from upset to downright grim and Xander looked like he'd be panicking if it wouldn't ruin his 'cool' image. Willow swarmed up the fire escape faster than she'd known she could move, and found the fire door standing open, the lock broken. Buffy had been through here, all right. She gestured frantically to the other two, then ducked through the door, crouching low to stay out of sight. Because they weren't alone. Voices echoed through the club eerily, bouncing off the concrete walls. A woman's voice, smug, irritating, familiar. The twang of a crossbow and Willow held her breath as she looked over the railing, hoping to see a pile of dust. Instead, she saw a blonde vampire, her face fright masked and a gun in each hand, looking down at a crossbow bolt that stuck out of her stomach. Buffy was hastily reloading and, in the shadows behind them both, Angel dragged himself up from the floor, clutching another bolt lodged in the wall beside him, his face a mask of pain. "Close," the blonde vampire said smugly. "But no heart." She dragged the bolt out of her stomach with a grunt, then threw it away casually and lifted her guns again. She fired, the shots echoing like cannon. "We need to distract her," Xander said urgently. "Fast." Willow didn't stop to think how dumb it was, or how unprotected they were. She filled her lungs and shouted with all her might, "Buffy, it wasn't Angel who attacked your mom, it was Darla!" It distracted the vampire, all right. Darla turned and fired up at their balcony. Xander and Willow bellyflopped as Giles wormed his way across the floor to one of the Bronze's battered lightboards. Beneath them, Darla jumped up on top of a pool table, and began strolling along it, confidently, unstoppably stalking the Slayer who hid at the other end. A little too confidently, as it turned out. Buffy jumped up from her hiding place and jerked the heavy table forward as if it weighed nothing. Darla lost her balance and fell backwards as Buffy shoved the table away from her as hard as she could, nearly dumping herself on the floor in the process. Flat on her back on the moving table, Darla fired wildly from both guns, keeping the Slayer down. Buffy wound up behind the bar and the dubious protection of the counters and cabinets. The table stopped and Darla regained her composure, swinging her feet to the ground and walking forward towards Buffy, firing carelessly, as if she didn't care who or what she hit. Probably, she didn't. Willow recognized her now, the blond vampire who had kidnapped Jesse, who had tried to kill Giles in the Bronze what seemed like a lifetime ago. Willow had stopped her that second time, but there was no holy water, no weapons now. Nothing to do but watch as the bullets pounding into the bar, shattering glass all around Buffy's hiding place. She tried not to think of how that first encounter with Darla had ended, of Jesse turned into one of the monsters they'd been fighting. Of Jesse lying in a pile of ash.... A sudden slam beside her startled Willow out of her grim thoughts. Giles had lost patience with the lightboard and begun pounding it into the table and, where care hadn't worked, brute force did. The lights flickered, then began to strobe. As Darla blinked in confusion, Buffy raced for better cover. Darla adjusted quickly, filtering out the distractions to focus in on her target. With sinking dread, Willow realized the vampire was done with playing games. "Come on, Buffy," Darla sneered. "Take it like a man." Xander's eyes were focused on Buffy, as if he could will the bullets to bounce off of her. Giles was still fussing with the lightboard, trying to make it produce something useful. Buffy was hidden, and Darla had her back turned. So Willow was the only one to see the tall form separate himself from the shadows, the crossbow bolt he'd used to pull himself to his feet now clutched in his hand. And she was the only one to see him lift his arm to bury the bolt in Darla's unprotected back, straight into her heart. The vampire staggered under the force of the blow. Bending under whatever it was vampires felt before they died, she turned, staring up at Angel with betrayed, disbelieving eyes. For a moment, she looked almost human. "Angel?" she whispered. It was all she could say before she fell, her body collapsing to dust before she reached the boards. One gun clattered to rest on the floor; nothing else remained. Everything seemed to have stopped moving, only the lights strobing in their relentless rhythm. Willow had stopped breathing; she could only see Angel's face, caught half in shadow, half in light. Buffy stepped out from her cover, staring at Angel with wide, amazed eyes. He looked back at her, his face blank and his eyes eloquent, although Willow had no idea what he was saying. Somehow, she thought Buffy would know. Slowly, Angel turned and walked back into the darkness, staggering a little as he went, leaving the four mortals to stare after him. - --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Perri I *am* the Buffy Evangalist! NatPacker-*-Horsechick-*-Pretender-*-Cohenhead-*-DDEB2-*-AGA-*-SunS-*-CoJ "I'm putting a collar with a little bell on that guy." -- Xander ------------------------------ Date: Fri, 17 Oct 1997 13:06:28 -0700 From: Lisa Rose Subject: BUFFYFIC: 50 Ways to Bleed Your Lover 50 WAYS TO BLEED YOUR LOVER (To the tune of "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover" by Paul Simon) Your problem is simply too much soul, sweet Darla said The answer will come as I give neck instead of head I'd like to help you on your way to being dead There must be fifty ways to bleed you, lover She said it's really not the worst of worlds, I guess For with strength and life eternal I'll erotically you bless Now let's repeat the act, though it may create a mess 'Cause I have fifty ways to bleed my lovers Fifty ways to bleed my lovers Chorus: I'll sip on your wrist, Chris Bite on your neck, Rex Drink from your vein, Wayne Until you're like me I'll siphon your heart, Bart It's all part of my dark art Just taste of my blood, Judd And let your soul flee She said there will be several moments of raw pain But it's good because it helps us all to feel alive again You'll soon appreciate that, Now listen as I explain all the fifty ways... She said the time has come to drink on this tonight And I believe in the morning you'll begin to fear the light Then she sucked me, and I shivered 'cause she probably was right There must be fifty ways to bleed your lover Fifty ways to bleed your lover Chorus (Lyrics copyright 1997 by Lisa Rose; title inspired by Jim) - ------------------------------------------ http://www.wco.com/~cybrpaws/lilbuffy.html ------------------------------ Date: Fri, 17 Oct 1997 16:36:58 EDT From: annanara@juno.com (Annanara a.k.a Anna) Subject: BUFFYFIC: Graveside Goodbye Graveside Goodbye by Annanara Disclaimer: I don't own any of the BtVS chracter, Joss Whedon and the WB do. The lyrics are from A Celtic Tale: The Legend of Deirdre by Michael and Jeff Danna. Xander stood among the many stones that made up the forest-like atmosphere of the Sunnydale Cemetery. He gazed longingly at the darkening sky which had once been a beautiful blue earlier. The day had been obscenely clear, crisp, and breezy with a hint of Fall coolness in the air. But now...now the sun was setting, covering the sky in a blood red. She had asked that it be done after sunset. She knew asking such would be dangerous, but it was for the benefit of one member of their group. One who couldn't be here till the sun was safely below the horizon. She had wanted him to be present, she wanted them -all- to be present, for she knew that we'd need each other now more than ever. But, she was the person he needed more than ever. She was always what he needed and now she was gone. She was his heart, his soul, his home, and now she was gone forever. She would never be returning, she would never surprise him when he wasn't paying attention, and she would never know exactly how much she meant to him. In skies of frozen snow Where winds of sadness roam Red's sun burning low You were my home Where I would go The small group huddled closer as the sun sank below the horizon. He would never see another sunset with her again. Never hold her close. Never wrestle with her or tackle her on a sunny weekend with the rest of her friends. Xander watched the last tendrils of light retreat, the immaculate green grass becoming dark. It reflected the feelings in his heart. It all seemed so unreal, so unnatural. A dark, horrible mistake. A nightmare come true. But the longer he stared at the tombstone before him, he knew it was no dream. In green fields Now unknown Your name upon The standing stone Angel arrived a few moments later, dressed in black as always. He had with him a yellow rose. The rose of friendship. He laid it carefully upon the fresh grave. She had been buried earlier in the day, but in an unofficial will she had requested that we have this private gathering. She was always thinking of others, why couldn't she have thought about herself for just one moment? If she had, he was sure that she'd possibly still be around today. If only she hadn't tried to help him. If only he hadn't gotten careless for one moment... Love invites One last call When death from life Begins to fall One of the vampires had been slowly backing him into a corner. It held a stake clutched in it's hand, ready to bring it down on him. He started reaching out blindly for things to throw at it. She had seen his trouble and rushed over to help him. He stumbled backwards, turning his back to the vampire for one second. The vampire raised it's arm and brought the stake down, but before it hit him, she pushed him out of the way screaming his name. The stake dropped right down through her chest. He never did find out who staked the vampire, but it turned to ashes as he held her in his arm. All he could think was that his love was dying. He smoothed back her hair, the blood on his hands blending into her hair easily. Rocking her gently, he was desperate to believe that she wasn't really dying, that she'd miraculously heal before his eyes. He knew it wasn't going to happen, but all he could do was hope. They all knew there was no way she would survive long enough for help. And she knew best of all. She had put a bloody finger up to his lips, shushing him. Giving him the sweetest and saddest smile he had ever seen, she whispered, "I love you, Xander." He replied that he loved her and her smile was so bright it was hard to believe she was dying. Her eyes slowly fluttered, then shut for the final time. He felt her body relax and could have sworn he felt a cold rush as her spirit left. He screamed in pain and outrage. She was truly gone. He continued to rock her body in his lap, gazing upon the gentle face of his love. Her face had a faint smile as if she had died happily. If it weren't for the blood and the stake in her tiny body, it looked as if she had simply fallen asleep. She should be asleep, he had thought. She should be in bed, far away from all this. She shouldn't have risked her life...and lost. The streams no longer go To tides of distant seas No love can grow old Without memories Your arms my home Where I would sleep The tears came again, falling unashamed as he looked upon her tombstone. He fell to his knees before the grave and cried. How can I live without you? he silently cried. I don't want to be without you! I need someone to show me how to do my math, to prod me to do my work, to be there when nobody else is. I needed you to stay, so I could sort out my feelings about you. To know if there could have been something more... Tears Now unfold How can I now Alone grow old Dusty Stars Shed their lights When death from life Slips silently to the night The night became darker and the danger increased. The moon lit up the graveyard, shining it's light upon such a dark occasion. As he cried, Buffy came up behind him, putting a comforting arm around him. Giles knelt on his other side, Ms. Calendar standing behind him. Cordelia even rested a hand on his shoulders, as did Angel. Eventually everyone was crying in a group hug, supporting each other. They were all painfully aware of the one person who should be with them and wasn't. That loss made them all hold on to each other that much tighter. The group slowly dispersed, Buffy and Angel staying behind to make sure Xander got home safely. They left Xander at the grave and walked a discreet distance away, giving him a private moment. Xander studied the marble tombstone one last time before leaving; his hand following the carved letters of her name. The light of the moon made it so easy to see the inscription... Willow Ann Rosenberg November 26, 1980 - October 15, 1997 Beloved Daughter and Friend - -------------------------------- The End Yes, I know it's sad, but I couldn't help myself. I was listening to the song and this story just came to mind. Let me know what you thought! Annanara GASPer, Keeper of Giles' Skip "That went well. I think." --Giles, SAR Keeper of Willow's Box of Raisins ------------------------------ End of buffyfic Digest V1 #41 ***************************** 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.