From: owner-buffyfic@lists.xmission.com (buffyfic-digest) To: buffyfic-digest@lists.xmission.com Subject: buffyfic-digest V2 #375 Reply-To: $SENDER Sender: owner-buffyfic@lists.xmission.com Errors-To: owner-buffyfic@lists.xmission.com Precedence: bulk buffyfic-digest Tuesday, November 24 1998 Volume 02 : Number 375 In this issue: BUFFYFIC: Xander's Incredible Journey (7a/?) BUFFYFIC: Xander's Incredible Journey (7a/?) See the end of the digest for information on (un)subscribing to the buffyfic or buffyfic-digest mailing lists and on how to retrieve back issues. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Tue, 24 Nov 1998 04:41:10 PST From: "Cutter Kinseeker" Subject: BUFFYFIC: Xander's Incredible Journey (7a/?) TITLE: "Xander's Incredible Journey" AUTHOR: Cutter Kinseeker E-MAIL: ckinseeker@hotmail.com FEEDBACK: Yes! Yes! Yes! Tell me what you think, but constructive criticism only please. No "it sucks" type messages. DISTRIBUTION: Ask me first. RATING: Mostly PG-13 for language and adult themes. A couple of parts will be R. DESCRIPTION: In the aftermath of "Becoming," Xander sets out after Buffy and winds up "becoming" in his own right. Xander and Cordelia find themselves at odds in Las Vegas when they run across an old enemy. The "two mysterious strangers" from Chapter Five(e) are revealed, and they mess with Xander's mind. AUTHOR'S NOTES: For those of you who were waiting for the newest installation of XIJ, I'd like to apologize for taking so long. As you may notice, this chapter approaches 10,000 words in size! That took a long time to write, plus the fact that I had writer's block for a couple of weeks, and the power went down one day and I had to rewrite almost 2000 words of the story. But finally, here it is. Tell me what you think! DISCLAIMER: I don't own jack. Correction--jack's probably the only thing I do own. The rest belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and the Frog Network. SPOILERS: Everything up to "Becoming". S S P P O A I C L E E R Chapter Seven Gambling With Your Life As Xander gradually returned to consciousness, he became aware of two things. First, Cordelia had stopped driving and had apparently pulled the car off the side of the road in a broad, flat clearing. Second, though there were no buildings anywhere to be seen, the glow of electric lights--overhead, in the night sky, and on the dim horizon--was strong, almost over-bright for the sleep-muddled teenager. "Huh?" he started to ask. His half-hearted utterance received no answer. He opened his eyes further, ignoring the pain that was building behind his nasal cavity, and cast about the car, visually seeking evidence of his girlfriend's presence. The car, as far as he could see, was empty--and there wasn't really that much car to see. He sat up straighter in the seat as if a little more height could give him a greater field of vision within the sports car. The pain in his head and cramped muscles was promptly forgotten, and panic began to sink in to replace them. Xander's breath started to come in shorter bursts, and he forced himself to calm down and think rationally. He would release his seat belt, open the door, and get out to look for Cordelia--all very calmly, of course. Undoubtedly, she had gotten a call from nature--and not on her cell phone, either--and stopped to answer it. Of course, she would never wake up Xander to tell him that sort of thing, so she had just stopped, gone off into the bushes, and- Except that was a load of malarkey. Even from within the car, with his eyes distorting images like they were, he could tell that the land for miles around was scrub and stony flatlands. There wasn't a bush in sight--except for Russian thistle, tumbleweed to the uninitiated--and even skinny Cordelia couldn't hide behind one of those. For another thing, Cordelia would sooner burst wide open from water retention than she would use so much as a mildly dirty bathroom. More than once on this trip, Xander had been required to drive miles out of their way in search of an acceptable lavatory. He sincerely doubted that a girl as picky as Cordelia would ever stoop to hiding behind bushes off the side of a highway. Finally, ever since this trip had begun, Xander had noticed Cordy's modesty factor increasing with every mile they traveled away from Sunnydale; he hadn't given it much thought, but maybe he should. Later. When Cordelia wasn't missing. Panic became more difficult to stave off with each passing moment, and each moment seemed longer than the last. Finally, without knowing quite how he had done it, Xander stood outside of the car. Not bothering to close his door, he began to circle the sporty vehicle, looking in every direction for some trace of Cordelia's passage or presence. She was nowhere to be seen, not that there was anything much to see in the middle of this arid wasteland. Xander looked over his shoulder, convinced suddenly that there was motion behind him, that someone--or something--was staring at his back. There was no one there, but there was something; specifically, a city. His mouth dropped open and his strained eyes goggled at the immensity of it. It was the apotheosis of every city he had ever been in, or heard of, or read about, or seen on television--Paris and Milan and New York and Toronto and Oz's Emerald City and Atlantis all rolled into one glittering, glowing mass of steel, glass, and stone. It was both the most perfect and the most hideous place he had ever seen in his life. *This is definitely not Las Vegas*, he thought in a daze. *I don't even think that this place exists, not in the real world.* He paused--what was the "real world"? Besides a cheesy, second-rate show on MTV? After all, he himself regularly fought demons, staked vampires, stalked cemeteries for the living dead, and shared patrol duties with the Slayer, the Chosen One of prophecy and legend. What was an impossible city compared to all of that? Pretty darned impressive, regardless of anything else. *Well, if that's the only city around, Cordelia has to be there. But how far is it?* Even as he wondered about the distance, it seemed to grow less. It wasn't so much that he was getting closer to the city--at least, he thought that wasn't it--but that the city was getting closer to him, engulfing him, almost as a human would instinctively swallow a morsel of food caught on his lip. Xander tried to turn away, to run, but time seemed to dilate; he knew that he could turn, but that it would take a lifetime--or several--just to move by even an inch. After what could have been a second or an eternity, between one blink and the next, he was within the city itself. But this city was both the same and different from the one he had seen in the distance; while many of the buildings looked the same--or had that same almost-mythic feel to them--they were ancient and crumbling edifices, rotting and half-fallen. The light, what there was of it, was subdued and noir-ish, filling every corner and side-street with shadows which danced upon the walls and moved--but only when you did not look straight at them. Under scrutiny, the shadows were still and mocking in their silence; the motion recommenced whenever Xander glanced away. He found himself darting his eyes every which way, struggling vainly to stave off paranoia. If this was Oz, it was that fabled land after some terrible natural disaster--and there wasn't a pair of tinted glasses in sight. And if this was Atlantis, it was an Atlantis that had been sitting at the bottom of the ocean for untold millennia, only to be cast up dry in the deserts of Nevada. *Screw Nevada*, thought Xander in a bitter panic, *I don't even think I'm on Earth anymore!* The silence gnawed at his mind and the shadows danced at the edge of his vision until he felt that he must scream or explode in the silence. Even as he opened his mouth, a scream did pierce the deafening silence--but it was not Xander's scream. Xander cocked his head, the panic rushing out of his body so quickly that he nearly lost his balance and fell; he listened for the scream to repeat, possibly give him a bearing on whoever it was, and he was not disappointed. The voice called out again, and as Xander was about to call back, he realized something--the voice was calling his name. He listened closely, for this time, the voice kept repeating its pitiful lament over and over again, until he finally recognized it. And when he did, he immediately started running in that direction, not wasting a single breath on a response. It was Cordelia, screaming in torment, begging him to save her. He ran on for he knew not how long, his breathing growing ever more ragged and harsh, the sounds of screaming driving him faster and harder than he had ever pushed himself before. He was almost to his destination, the screams ringing like an alarm in his ears, when suddenly they ceased. He looked around, his eyes at last lighting on a low building that looked vaguely familiar. Xander rushed inside and found himself in a large, grotesquely distorted foyer; the door slammed shut behind him with a bang loud enough to make him jump a foot in the air. He frowned; this place continued to feel familiar... Feeling slightly silly as he did so, he cocked his head to the side so that his ear was almost touching his shoulder and began opening and closing his eyes one at a time. Finally, he closed both eyes tightly, straightened up, and opened them so quickly that he was, in essence, seeing it for the first time. And then he knew where he was. He shook his head in denial, his mouth twisting downward more with each shake; his fists clenched and unclenched involuntarily and his knees quaked in terror. He was in the Crawford Street Mansion, the last place he had seen Buffy, the place where Angelus had kept the demon Acathla before he could perform the ritual that would send the world to Hell. Somehow, the entire Crawford Street Mansion had been transported to this alien city, twisted and pulled like taffy until it was only barely recognizable as its former self. Xander was so stunned when a light came on that he didn't have time to scream. The light was a spotlight, centered on an upper-floor balcony, specifically on a dark-suited figure standing on that balcony with his back to Xander. Two more shadowy figures, taller than the central one, stood on either side; there was something wrong with the way their silhouettes shifted and squirmed. The dark-suited one turned slowly, but even before he faced Xander, the teenager knew who his opponent was: Angel. Angel--no, Angelus, he was Angelus now--smiled merrily at Xander, a smile devoid of warmth or any human emotion, his evil glee written across his human face. Xander started forward, but Angelus stopped him with wave of his hand. "I give you greetings, White Knight, in the manner of my ancestors," he began in a stately Irish voice. *When did Angel get an Irish accent?* Xander wondered crazily. "As a gesture of welcome, I give you a riddle and a challenge." "What?!" Xander demanded, his confusion etched clearly on his features. "Quit playing games, Angelus! Where's Cordelia?!" Angelus laughed evilly, breaking the image of the 18th-Century nobleman he had been pretending to. "Okay, Xander, if that's the way you want to play it... I thought I would be a little polite this time--after all, it's not often I get guests. Less so, since Buffy killed me." "Buffy? Killed?" Xander sputtered uselessly. "Not that it matters," he continued unconcernedly. "Demons are eternal; you might send us away for a while, but you can't ever really kill us. Hell is a big place, and there's a spot in it for everyone!" He laughed again, with more mirth in it this time. "Here's a joke for you: A baby demon asks his father if angels can visit Hell. His father looks at him and says, 'Son, only angels can go to heaven, but *anyone* can come to Hell.' Cracks me up every time." "You said something about a riddle and a challenge," Xander prodded, hoping to get some sense out of the twice-dead demon. "Oh, yeah." He scratched his head and pointed at Xander. "Riddle me this, White Knight: What is it that never harms, but kills? That is hunted by all men, but found by few? That makes the wisest men fools and the most foolish men wise? That which breaks down all walls and builds new ones up? Think about it while I give you the challenge." Xander started to protest, but Angelus' next action shut him up easily. Snapping his fingers, Angelus turned on another pair of spotlights, these focused on the figures flanking him. On his left was Cordelia; on his right, Buffy. Both hung from the ceiling by ropes; their mouths were covered with gags, hardly necessary considering that both were obviously unconscious. They hung not over the balcony, but over its edges, dangling precariously more than thirty feet above the hardwood floor. Xander stared at Angelus with barely-checked fury; if looks could kill, Angelus would have been a cinder at that moment. As it was, his smile merely expanded, his wicked fangs visible and glinting under the bright lights as he assumed his game face. "And here's the challenge, and herein lies the choice. Which one? In about ten seconds, I'm gonna cut the ropes and both of these lovely young women will plummet to their deaths--unless you can catch one first. Oh, that's right: they'll be falling so fast that you'll only have time to catch one of them. The other will die a horrible and ignominious death on the floor below. Not much of a prize for our runner-up, I admit, but our show has a limited budget. "Well, pretty boy?" Xander might have said something--a protest, a denial, something--but in the next instant, Angelus lashed out with his claws, severing both ropes. Time stopped for Xander, both of them seeming to fall in slow motion, his arms and legs heavy as lead. Finally, he made his decision, possibly not even consciously realizing which he was running towards. He dove forward, catching the limp figure in his arms and using his body to absorb most of the shock from the blow. From behind him came a sickening thump and crunch, the sound of a body breaking in a dozen places, each independently fatal. His eyes cloudy with tears, continuing to move only by his indomitable will, Xander brushed Buffy's hair out of her eyes and looked at her. Something was wrong. He felt her cheek; it was cold. He touched the side of her face and her head lolled to the other side like a doll with a broken neck. As her throat came into view, it was clearly visible that her carotid artery had been pierced, draining almost every ounce of blood from her body. Xander shook and began sobbing uncontrollably. They must have both already been- As if reading his mind, Angelus spoke: "Wrong choice, my boy! You should have thought about it a little more carefully. I mean, come on! Would I ever let Buffy go alive once I had her in my power? Of course not! But Cordelia... I have no real interest in her. How you and that little shrew ever hooked up in the first place, I'll never know; all she does is whine, whine, whine and scream, scream, scream. It finally got so bad that I had to knock her out." Xander looked up, the tears making Angelus almost invisible behind a watery curtain. Answering the question in those tormented eyes, he replied, "Yep, that's right. Cordy was still alive. Aw, shucks. But for a consolation prize, we're going to give you not one, but two--count 'em, two!--corpses of the girls you love most in the world! And as an added bonus, I'll throw in the third for no extra charge!" A dull, heavy blow landed on the floor behind him, but Xander was oblivious. His back arched, his sightless eyes stared at the ceiling, and the only thing that was louder than Angelus' laughter was Xander's howl of anguish. Continued in next message... Cutter Kinseeker - -Chieftain of the Wolfriders - -Holder of New Moon, artifact sword - -Slayer of the dreaded beast Madcoil - -Keeper of Xander's firm belief that he could take Angelus with the help of a bunch of orderlies, cops, doctors, and nurses (KBD) - -Keeper of Xander's derisive sneer at Angelus (KBD) - -Keeper of Xander's jaunty stake-whittling tune ("School Hard") - -Keeper of Willow's longing gaze at Xander while he talks about the unattainable ("Some Assembly Required") - -Keeper of Giles' masochistic need to spar with Buffy - -Keeper of Cordelia's divine request for aspirin ("School Hard") - -Keeper of Buffy's need for a warning label (KBD) "AYOOOOOOOOAAAAAAHHH!!!!" --Cutter Kinseeker "From famine to feast and back to famine again." --Skywise Visit the Holt of Cutter Kinseeker http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Chamber/2234/ ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 24 Nov 1998 04:41:02 PST From: "Cutter Kinseeker" Subject: BUFFYFIC: Xander's Incredible Journey (7a/?) TITLE: "Xander's Incredible Journey" AUTHOR: Cutter Kinseeker E-MAIL: ckinseeker@hotmail.com FEEDBACK: Yes! Yes! Yes! Tell me what you think, but constructive criticism only please. No "it sucks" type messages. DISTRIBUTION: Ask me first. RATING: Mostly PG-13 for language and adult themes. A couple of parts will be R. DESCRIPTION: In the aftermath of "Becoming," Xander sets out after Buffy and winds up "becoming" in his own right. Xander and Cordelia find themselves at odds in Las Vegas when they run across an old enemy. The "two mysterious strangers" from Chapter Five(e) are revealed, and they mess with Xander's mind. AUTHOR'S NOTES: For those of you who were waiting for the newest installation of XIJ, I'd like to apologize for taking so long. As you may notice, this chapter approaches 10,000 words in size! That took a long time to write, plus the fact that I had writer's block for a couple of weeks, and the power went down one day and I had to rewrite almost 2000 words of the story. But finally, here it is. Tell me what you think! DISCLAIMER: I don't own jack. Correction--jack's probably the only thing I do own. The rest belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and the Frog Network. SPOILERS: Everything up to "Becoming". S S P P O A I C L E E R Chapter Seven Gambling With Your Life As Xander gradually returned to consciousness, he became aware of two things. First, Cordelia had stopped driving and had apparently pulled the car off the side of the road in a broad, flat clearing. Second, though there were no buildings anywhere to be seen, the glow of electric lights--overhead, in the night sky, and on the dim horizon--was strong, almost over-bright for the sleep-muddled teenager. "Huh?" he started to ask. His half-hearted utterance received no answer. He opened his eyes further, ignoring the pain that was building behind his nasal cavity, and cast about the car, visually seeking evidence of his girlfriend's presence. The car, as far as he could see, was empty--and there wasn't really that much car to see. He sat up straighter in the seat as if a little more height could give him a greater field of vision within the sports car. The pain in his head and cramped muscles was promptly forgotten, and panic began to sink in to replace them. Xander's breath started to come in shorter bursts, and he forced himself to calm down and think rationally. He would release his seat belt, open the door, and get out to look for Cordelia--all very calmly, of course. Undoubtedly, she had gotten a call from nature--and not on her cell phone, either--and stopped to answer it. Of course, she would never wake up Xander to tell him that sort of thing, so she had just stopped, gone off into the bushes, and- Except that was a load of malarkey. Even from within the car, with his eyes distorting images like they were, he could tell that the land for miles around was scrub and stony flatlands. There wasn't a bush in sight--except for Russian thistle, tumbleweed to the uninitiated--and even skinny Cordelia couldn't hide behind one of those. For another thing, Cordelia would sooner burst wide open from water retention than she would use so much as a mildly dirty bathroom. More than once on this trip, Xander had been required to drive miles out of their way in search of an acceptable lavatory. He sincerely doubted that a girl as picky as Cordelia would ever stoop to hiding behind bushes off the side of a highway. Finally, ever since this trip had begun, Xander had noticed Cordy's modesty factor increasing with every mile they traveled away from Sunnydale; he hadn't given it much thought, but maybe he should. Later. When Cordelia wasn't missing. Panic became more difficult to stave off with each passing moment, and each moment seemed longer than the last. Finally, without knowing quite how he had done it, Xander stood outside of the car. Not bothering to close his door, he began to circle the sporty vehicle, looking in every direction for some trace of Cordelia's passage or presence. She was nowhere to be seen, not that there was anything much to see in the middle of this arid wasteland. Xander looked over his shoulder, convinced suddenly that there was motion behind him, that someone--or something--was staring at his back. There was no one there, but there was something; specifically, a city. His mouth dropped open and his strained eyes goggled at the immensity of it. It was the apotheosis of every city he had ever been in, or heard of, or read about, or seen on television--Paris and Milan and New York and Toronto and Oz's Emerald City and Atlantis all rolled into one glittering, glowing mass of steel, glass, and stone. It was both the most perfect and the most hideous place he had ever seen in his life. *This is definitely not Las Vegas*, he thought in a daze. *I don't even think that this place exists, not in the real world.* He paused--what was the "real world"? Besides a cheesy, second-rate show on MTV? After all, he himself regularly fought demons, staked vampires, stalked cemeteries for the living dead, and shared patrol duties with the Slayer, the Chosen One of prophecy and legend. What was an impossible city compared to all of that? Pretty darned impressive, regardless of anything else. *Well, if that's the only city around, Cordelia has to be there. But how far is it?* Even as he wondered about the distance, it seemed to grow less. It wasn't so much that he was getting closer to the city--at least, he thought that wasn't it--but that the city was getting closer to him, engulfing him, almost as a human would instinctively swallow a morsel of food caught on his lip. Xander tried to turn away, to run, but time seemed to dilate; he knew that he could turn, but that it would take a lifetime--or several--just to move by even an inch. After what could have been a second or an eternity, between one blink and the next, he was within the city itself. But this city was both the same and different from the one he had seen in the distance; while many of the buildings looked the same--or had that same almost-mythic feel to them--they were ancient and crumbling edifices, rotting and half-fallen. The light, what there was of it, was subdued and noir-ish, filling every corner and side-street with shadows which danced upon the walls and moved--but only when you did not look straight at them. Under scrutiny, the shadows were still and mocking in their silence; the motion recommenced whenever Xander glanced away. He found himself darting his eyes every which way, struggling vainly to stave off paranoia. If this was Oz, it was that fabled land after some terrible natural disaster--and there wasn't a pair of tinted glasses in sight. And if this was Atlantis, it was an Atlantis that had been sitting at the bottom of the ocean for untold millennia, only to be cast up dry in the deserts of Nevada. *Screw Nevada*, thought Xander in a bitter panic, *I don't even think I'm on Earth anymore!* The silence gnawed at his mind and the shadows danced at the edge of his vision until he felt that he must scream or explode in the silence. Even as he opened his mouth, a scream did pierce the deafening silence--but it was not Xander's scream. Xander cocked his head, the panic rushing out of his body so quickly that he nearly lost his balance and fell; he listened for the scream to repeat, possibly give him a bearing on whoever it was, and he was not disappointed. The voice called out again, and as Xander was about to call back, he realized something--the voice was calling his name. He listened closely, for this time, the voice kept repeating its pitiful lament over and over again, until he finally recognized it. And when he did, he immediately started running in that direction, not wasting a single breath on a response. It was Cordelia, screaming in torment, begging him to save her. He ran on for he knew not how long, his breathing growing ever more ragged and harsh, the sounds of screaming driving him faster and harder than he had ever pushed himself before. He was almost to his destination, the screams ringing like an alarm in his ears, when suddenly they ceased. He looked around, his eyes at last lighting on a low building that looked vaguely familiar. Xander rushed inside and found himself in a large, grotesquely distorted foyer; the door slammed shut behind him with a bang loud enough to make him jump a foot in the air. He frowned; this place continued to feel familiar... Feeling slightly silly as he did so, he cocked his head to the side so that his ear was almost touching his shoulder and began opening and closing his eyes one at a time. Finally, he closed both eyes tightly, straightened up, and opened them so quickly that he was, in essence, seeing it for the first time. And then he knew where he was. He shook his head in denial, his mouth twisting downward more with each shake; his fists clenched and unclenched involuntarily and his knees quaked in terror. He was in the Crawford Street Mansion, the last place he had seen Buffy, the place where Angelus had kept the demon Acathla before he could perform the ritual that would send the world to Hell. Somehow, the entire Crawford Street Mansion had been transported to this alien city, twisted and pulled like taffy until it was only barely recognizable as its former self. Xander was so stunned when a light came on that he didn't have time to scream. The light was a spotlight, centered on an upper-floor balcony, specifically on a dark-suited figure standing on that balcony with his back to Xander. Two more shadowy figures, taller than the central one, stood on either side; there was something wrong with the way their silhouettes shifted and squirmed. The dark-suited one turned slowly, but even before he faced Xander, the teenager knew who his opponent was: Angel. Angel--no, Angelus, he was Angelus now--smiled merrily at Xander, a smile devoid of warmth or any human emotion, his evil glee written across his human face. Xander started forward, but Angelus stopped him with wave of his hand. "I give you greetings, White Knight, in the manner of my ancestors," he began in a stately Irish voice. *When did Angel get an Irish accent?* Xander wondered crazily. "As a gesture of welcome, I give you a riddle and a challenge." "What?!" Xander demanded, his confusion etched clearly on his features. "Quit playing games, Angelus! Where's Cordelia?!" Angelus laughed evilly, breaking the image of the 18th-Century nobleman he had been pretending to. "Okay, Xander, if that's the way you want to play it... I thought I would be a little polite this time--after all, it's not often I get guests. Less so, since Buffy killed me." "Buffy? Killed?" Xander sputtered uselessly. "Not that it matters," he continued unconcernedly. "Demons are eternal; you might send us away for a while, but you can't ever really kill us. Hell is a big place, and there's a spot in it for everyone!" He laughed again, with more mirth in it this time. "Here's a joke for you: A baby demon asks his father if angels can visit Hell. His father looks at him and says, 'Son, only angels can go to heaven, but *anyone* can come to Hell.' Cracks me up every time." "You said something about a riddle and a challenge," Xander prodded, hoping to get some sense out of the twice-dead demon. "Oh, yeah." He scratched his head and pointed at Xander. "Riddle me this, White Knight: What is it that never harms, but kills? That is hunted by all men, but found by few? That makes the wisest men fools and the most foolish men wise? That which breaks down all walls and builds new ones up? Think about it while I give you the challenge." Xander started to protest, but Angelus' next action shut him up easily. Snapping his fingers, Angelus turned on another pair of spotlights, these focused on the figures flanking him. On his left was Cordelia; on his right, Buffy. Both hung from the ceiling by ropes; their mouths were covered with gags, hardly necessary considering that both were obviously unconscious. They hung not over the balcony, but over its edges, dangling precariously more than thirty feet above the hardwood floor. Xander stared at Angelus with barely-checked fury; if looks could kill, Angelus would have been a cinder at that moment. As it was, his smile merely expanded, his wicked fangs visible and glinting under the bright lights as he assumed his game face. "And here's the challenge, and herein lies the choice. Which one? In about ten seconds, I'm gonna cut the ropes and both of these lovely young women will plummet to their deaths--unless you can catch one first. Oh, that's right: they'll be falling so fast that you'll only have time to catch one of them. The other will die a horrible and ignominious death on the floor below. Not much of a prize for our runner-up, I admit, but our show has a limited budget. "Well, pretty boy?" Xander might have said something--a protest, a denial, something--but in the next instant, Angelus lashed out with his claws, severing both ropes. Time stopped for Xander, both of them seeming to fall in slow motion, his arms and legs heavy as lead. Finally, he made his decision, possibly not even consciously realizing which he was running towards. He dove forward, catching the limp figure in his arms and using his body to absorb most of the shock from the blow. From behind him came a sickening thump and crunch, the sound of a body breaking in a dozen places, each independently fatal. His eyes cloudy with tears, continuing to move only by his indomitable will, Xander brushed Buffy's hair out of her eyes and looked at her. Something was wrong. He felt her cheek; it was cold. He touched the side of her face and her head lolled to the other side like a doll with a broken neck. As her throat came into view, it was clearly visible that her carotid artery had been pierced, draining almost every ounce of blood from her body. Xander shook and began sobbing uncontrollably. They must have both already been- As if reading his mind, Angelus spoke: "Wrong choice, my boy! You should have thought about it a little more carefully. I mean, come on! Would I ever let Buffy go alive once I had her in my power? Of course not! But Cordelia... I have no real interest in her. How you and that little shrew ever hooked up in the first place, I'll never know; all she does is whine, whine, whine and scream, scream, scream. It finally got so bad that I had to knock her out." Xander looked up, the tears making Angelus almost invisible behind a watery curtain. Answering the question in those tormented eyes, he replied, "Yep, that's right. Cordy was still alive. Aw, shucks. But for a consolation prize, we're going to give you not one, but two--count 'em, two!--corpses of the girls you love most in the world! And as an added bonus, I'll throw in the third for no extra charge!" A dull, heavy blow landed on the floor behind him, but Xander was oblivious. His back arched, his sightless eyes stared at the ceiling, and the only thing that was louder than Angelus' laughter was Xander's howl of anguish. Continued in next message... Cutter Kinseeker - -Chieftain of the Wolfriders - -Holder of New Moon, artifact sword - -Slayer of the dreaded beast Madcoil - -Keeper of Xander's firm belief that he could take Angelus with the help of a bunch of orderlies, cops, doctors, and nurses (KBD) - -Keeper of Xander's derisive sneer at Angelus (KBD) - -Keeper of Xander's jaunty stake-whittling tune ("School Hard") - -Keeper of Willow's longing gaze at Xander while he talks about the unattainable ("Some Assembly Required") - -Keeper of Giles' masochistic need to spar with Buffy - -Keeper of Cordelia's divine request for aspirin ("School Hard") - -Keeper of Buffy's need for a warning label (KBD) "AYOOOOOOOOAAAAAAHHH!!!!" --Cutter Kinseeker "From famine to feast and back to famine again." --Skywise Visit the Holt of Cutter Kinseeker http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Chamber/2234/ ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com ------------------------------ End of buffyfic-digest V2 #375 ****************************** To subscribe to buffyfic or buffyfic-digest, send the command subscribe buffyfic-digest or subscribe buffy to majordomo@xmission.com. 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