"Mission Statement" (Post-Season 6)

[mollyig]

Cheers, Jimmy Olson made me laugh, as did the whole DOSS thing.



Willow's idea is certainly interesting. Wonder will she find a way to accomplish it. time (or you, really!) will tell I suppose.

Adding up the total of a love that's true, multiply life by the power of two
Indigo Girls

[Grimlock72]

Willow's idea sounds interesting enough, but it's a HUGE scale increase we're talking about here. From one vamp to all vamps on this globe, hmm... requires massive amounts of power. I would think Willow wouldn't want to harness that amount of power anytime soon.



Tara is back to being shy I see, shame... she has such a nice singing voice. Bit encouragement from Willow seems to help there, heh. Still not feeling sorry for Xander btw.



Grimmy

"You hurt Tara," Willow said too calmly. "The last one who tried that was a god. I made her regret it." -- Unexpected Consequences by Lisa of Nine

[snuggle79]

hey you, out there in the hot weather area!



Willow's idea sounds interesting!

And i liked Tara's comment about "channelling Dawn"

Great update!

snuggle79

__________________

"I got so lost"

"I found you, i will always find you"

Edited by: snuggle79 at: 12/1/02 7:51:38 am

[Bagheera]

BFR from Paris - I've struck a minor delay in this story, trying to figure out just what Tara will sing. I think I have it sorted out now. Liking the "channelling Dawn" - Willow just loves hearing her girl singing. She can't get enough. And Tara has been doing less than her fair share these last few weeks. Restore soul *.* spell. It's just an idea of Willow's at the moment, but it would certainly make a big difference.



mollyig - Hi and thank you. Spike and Xander sharing a few cleansing ales? Wait and see. Ditto for Willow's idea.



Grimmy - good point about the power required to cast the *.* Willow is trying to treat spells like computer command lines. Who knows if this is possible? But an interesting idea anyway, and it also means that and are talking openly about just what place magic should take in their lives. Trying to do a spell, even a difficult and powerful one such as this that will be of such obvious benefit, is probably a good thing. And not sorry for Xander - he's probably lucky Willow only kicked his ass once.



snuggle79 - Hi, it's warm and sunny again, after a bit of rain on the weekend {curse, grumble} 's idea definitely interesting, but in need of much work. And thanks re: the Dawn comment. She's been absent for all of this little story. Probably busy causing trouble at Sunnydale High with the SITs.

"I am a girl. I am nice. I can play. I can jump. I can sleep." My daughter's first essay (aged 5)

[eccentrictulip]

how did i miss two updates?? i've been slacking. i loved the "doss" bit....HA. for some reason i got an image of pirate spike in my head when he first started talking. i don't quite know why. wouldn't that be something....buffy on the high seas.....

anyway. tara's going to sing again and xander got his just desserts. life is grand. thank you for the update!!! i hope there's more on the way soon......

*please use both hands....*

[Bagheera]

eccentrictulip - Thanks for your kind words of encouragement, and your hopes for more are answered below. Pirate Spike? - could it be the boots? I dunno, I just pictured him slouching on a chair in a dark corner of the Bronze doing his best James Dean. High Seas Buffy - it's a great title. There would have to be an AU story in there somewhere.



Part 4

Rating PG13 - Adult themes, drug references, occasional coarse language

Song credits:

“Crossroads” - Waits/Burroughs

“One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer” - John Lee Hooker



It’s been a strange sort of a night, Tara thought to herself as she made her way through the packed bodies to the stage. Patrons squeezed aside for her. Those that knew her by sight offered a smile or a word of recognition and encouragement as she passed. This would be her first public singing engagement since Giles and Anya’s wedding reception. Tara had more or less given up returning Lorne’s increasingly urgent calls, seeking live gigs in Los Angeles or studio time. The blonde witch was finding it hard to be bothered by it all. Her brief episode of depression aside, Tara was coming to the understanding that she loved music so much that the last thing she wanted was to make it her career. Once money came into the equation, it inevitably brought compromise. She looked back with nostalgia at the months she had spent on the highway, just her and Willow drifting across the country, palpating the cold apex beat of the continent’s winter heart. Light pocket and light heart; that had been the way of it. They had almost never made enough money from Tara’s playing to cover food, shelter, and travel to the next town, relying on slender checks from Giles and the generosity of fans to get by. It had been a wonderful adventure, just getting away with Willow for a while, escaping Sunnydale, rediscovering themselves and rediscovering each other.



Okay, but what now? Tara wondered. This Bronze crowd craved entertainment, and Tara had no doubt that she could deliver, but she wanted it to be on her terms. As she hoisted herself onto the stage, she saw Devon off to one side near the dressing room. The poor guy looked exhausted as he towelled himself down and reached for a beer. Tara thought she understood what he and the other Dingoes had gone through. Maybe they had experienced that one night of perfection, when music, band and audience had been as one. You could spend a lifetime trying to find that moment again; you could consume an entire pharmacopeia attempting to recreate it inside your head. Unfortunately, the fear that you would always fall short of that ideal would almost inevitably lead to failure. And where did the love of music go in all of this? It would wither and die. Tara was desperate not to let that happen to her. Even if she only ever played to an audience of one, herself, or at most two, herself and Willow, Tara had an idea that it might just be enough. Besides, she now had college to think about, again.



Tara swiftly made her mind up. The crowd wanted to rock the night away, and the Fems together with the ex-Dingoes’ rhythm section had the necessary firepower to deliver. But Tara wanted a bit more than just mindless entertainment. It was an uphill battle in a place like Sunnydale, she knew, but if it was possible she wanted to raise a little consciousness if she could. Try to get people thinking about what kind of a place Sunnydale was and what went on there. About what had happened to her and people like her. The blonde witch stepped over to the two guitarists and outlined what she wanted. They both nodded, and a short set list was agreed upon quickly.



The crowd was hushed as Tara stepped forward to the mike stand at the front of the stage. Tara looked out into the crowd, as Margherite picked out a simple melody in a minor key, letting the music hang unresolved in the dark nooks and crannies of the Bronze. Sherri joined in, improvising around her partner’s playing. Then Tara began to recite, slowly, as the stage lights dimmed and a single spot shone out:



“Now, Warren was a good straight boy to begin with, but there was bad blood

In him; someway he got into the magic bullets and that leads straight to

Devil's work, just like marijuana leads to heroin; you think you can take

Them bullets or leave 'em, do you? Just save a few for your bad days



Well, now, we all have those bad days when you can't shoot for shit.



The more of them magics you use, the more bad days you have without them

So it comes down finally to all your days being bad without the bullets

It's magics or nothing

Time to stop chippying around and kidding yourself,

Kid, you're hooked, heavy as lead



And that's where old Warren found himself

Out there at the crossroads

Molding the Devil's bullets

Now a man figures it's his bullets, so it will

Hit what he wants to hit

But it don't always work that way



You see, some bullets is special for a single aim

A certain stag, or a certain person

And no matter where you are, that's where the bullet will end up

And in the moment of aiming, the gun turns into a dowser's wand

And points where the bullet wants to go.”



Tara stood still and silent with her hand over her heart when she had finished, letting the guitars ring out for a couple more bars. Slowly, she raised one hand, gave the signal and on cue, the twin guitarists unleashed their assault. The bass and drums chimed in, the crowd cheered, and the mosh pit began to heave in time with the beat. Tara grinned, stamped her foot and began to sing.



Willow, like most of the other Bronze patrons, had stood stock-still throughout Tara’s recitation, riveted by the eerie scene her words had set. At the first mention of Warren’s name, a tear had formed at the corner of Willow’s eye. By the finish, it had overflowed and slowly trickled down her cheek. It still hurt Willow to be reminded, even indirectly, of what she had done. She knew that Tara hadn’t done it with the intention of hurting her. If anything, the ghosts of the past haunted Tara just as much as they affected Willow. That much had been plain tonight. And now, as Tara and the band dispelled the strangeness with some honest and uncomplicated rock, Willow felt her own mood begin to lighten. Moist-eyed, she smiled proudly at her lover.



“Hey Red,” Faith appeared at Willow’s ear.



“Oh hi Faith,” Willow greeted her. “Any more stake action tonight?”



The fugitive shook her head. “Nah, usual quiet night in Sunnydale. Could be some action later, though,” Faith smirked, glancing in the direction of Buffy, now clearly visible at the bar.



Willow smiled uncertainly. “So, will you tell Buffy about dusty ex-poophead Parker?”



Faith’s eyes were hooded. “No,” she said, almost too quietly for Will to hear. “I don’t think Buffy really needs to know. Hey,” she brightened, “it’s not like he’s the only one. I’ve staked vamps that used to be guys that I can remember going with, back in the days…”



“What, you’re meeting them as vampires? Is this a regular thing?” Willow asked.



Faith nodded. “Every once in a while. Not so many lately. Sunnydale, right? I don’t tell Buffy, usually. I mean, it’s not like B doesn’t know what I used to be like. And so do you…” Faith looked away and trailed off into silence.



“Faith, it’s okay. I am so over you and Xander,” Willow said firmly. “I mean hello, everyone gay now.”



“Sure. We’ve all got our skeletons right? Or in some cases, vampires. Buffy told me about Spike. All of it. If ever see that bastard again…” Fortunately for Spike, Faith’s back was turned to the dark corner where the vampire and Xander sat drinking.



“I mean, you and Buffy?” Xander was saying. “Honestly Spike, what were you thinking?”



“Scoff all you like, Tonto, but I know Buffy. What makes her tick. We’re kindred spirits, we are.” Spike tipped his head back and emptied his bottle.



“And the flowers and candy; what was all that about?”



Spike pursed his lips. “I’ve been dealing with a lot of stuff these last months. Lot of garbage in my head. Can’t think straight a lot of the time.”



“Same as usual, I guess,” Xander grinned and drank.



“It’s different, Sam Gamgee. You wouldn’t understand, and I don’t much feel like telling you. I didn’t have the words to tell Buffy what I felt about what happened between us and what’s happened to me since. Still don’t. But I had to do something. It was dire I know, but it was the best I could do.”



“Let me get out the violins for you Spike,” Xander offered sarcastically.



“Get your wallet out more like mate; we’re dry.” Spike gestured at the table where the bottles were indeed all empty.



“Same again?”



“Whatever. Beer, and plenty of it.”



“Coming up.” Xander stood and headed in the direction of the bar.



Buffy joined Faith and Willow in their little cranny. She handed a drink to Faith.



“Hey Will,” Buffy greeted her friend with a hug and a kiss. “Great to see Tara back in the spotlight.”



Willow beamed. “I know, I’ve missed this so much!”



“So let’s dance!” Faith grinned, taking Buffy by the hand and leading her onto a tiny patch of unoccupied floor. Willow sipped and followed, just missing Xander as he passed on his way back from the bar. Faith and Buffy set to in their best slam-dancing style, which as it happened was ideally suited to what the band was cranking out, while to one side Willow kept her eyes fixed on the stage and Tara as the redhead bounced happily in time to the music. But she so wished that Tara would take a break and come down and dance with her.



Xander set the fresh batch of drinks down on the table.



“Brilliant,” Spike commented, reaching for one and taking a long draught. “More birds flying, I see,” he added, noticing Buffy and Faith dancing together.



Xander looked over his shoulder at them. “Jealous are we, Spike?”



The vampire shrugged. “Wot, of that refugee from 'Once Were Warriors'? Are you?”



“Why should I be?”



“Don’t play the innocent with me, Sancho Panza. I know you and Buffy are ‘just friends’, but that wasn’t always what you had in mind, was it?”



“It wasn’t like that, and will you stop calling me names?”



“No problem, Will Scarlet. It must really piss you off, right, all those years playing the sideman, biding your time, waiting for that one time when Buffy would look at you that special way. Then I came along…”



“I was never a sideman, I’ve done my share of saving the world, which is more than I can say for you.” Xander took a large, angry swig of beer. “You’re really asking for it.”



“Oh yeah, right. I could rip your head off in a heartbeat, mate. Headache wouldn’t even hit me by the time you were dead. Might almost be worth it”



“You think I can’t take you?” Xander challenged the blonde vampire. “You think just because I’m gay, I’m suddenly soft?”



“Oh, THAT’s what it’s all about is it? What the world needs is a gay superhero, right? You? Don’t make me laugh. We’ve got one of those already and she’s on that stage over there right now. The Burner. You’ve just got to mention her name out loud and half the demons in Sunnydale will shit themselves. If they're physically equipped to, that is. Listen,” Spike leant forwards so that his face was inches away from Xander’s. “You want to know what the demon world thinks about you since the news about you broke?”



“Ha, see? I’m big news in the demon world. I’m a celebrity.”



“Not exactly. When the word got out that the Slayer’s gun-dog is a bit ‘Stoke-on-Trent’, opinion was divided into three camps, so to speak. One group felt that it was your right to be what you are and to say it, out loud and proud if that’s what you’re into. Another group basically couldn’t give a toss one way or the other.”



“And the third group?”



“Well, they’re by far the majority, and they all said: ‘Xander who?’”



“And where do you fit in Spike? As if I care.”



”Mate, my opinion of you hasn’t changed a bit. I always thought you were a prat, and I still do.” Spike drained his bottle, slammed it down on the tabletop and looked Xander in the eye. The young man followed suit, albeit rather more slowly. “My round I think,” the vampire added, rising to his feet and heading in the direction of the bar.



A minute later he retuned to Xander with four bottles of ale. Large ones. Xander looked at them and at Spike warily.



“What is this?” the builder asked suspiciously.



“Wot? You think I might be planning on getting you drunk and giving you one? A vigorous rogering in a Sunnydale back alley? Not likely, mate.” Spike grinned cold-eyed at the human. “For that I’d have to fancy you, and I don’t. I’m going get you legless pissed, find some vampires to feed you to, and then I’m going to drink the last stale dregs of blood from your worthless corpse.” He winked at the young man.



Xander could only laugh. ”You’re despicable, Spike.”



“Feeling’s mutual, mate.” Their bottles clanked together and they both drank deeply.



On the stage, Devon had at last rejoined the band. Tara surrendered her place at the microphone with a smile and a hug for the tall, stoned singer, and she lowered herself to the dance floor amid cheers and clapping. Grinning, her face aglow with a faint sheen of sweat, she made her way through the crowd back to Willow’s side. The redhead greeted her with a vice-like embrace.



“Oh baby,” she whispered in Tara’s ear. “You were wonderful.”



Tara panted and hung out her tongue. “Drink,” she managed to gasp, her voice a little burry. Willow passed her a bottle and Tara drank gratefully.



“Are you sorry about missing out on a quiet night?” Willow enquired archly.



Tara shifted her body and pressed herself against Willow. “Who says I missed out?” she countered. “The night is still young.”



A moan caught in Willow’s throat. She pulled back a little so she could look Tara in the eyes. “Take me home?” she whispered. In answer, Tara kissed Willow softly on the cheek and glanced over at Faith and Buffy. The Slayers looked like they were enjoying themselves too much to leave right away. Besides, they would be likely to do a final sweep before they headed home to bed.



“Are you trying to seduce me, Ms. Rosenberg?” Tara asked, eyebrows raised.



“So now I have to try?” Willow answered, snuggling against Tara once more.



After brief farewells, Tara and Willow left the Bronze, while Faith and Buffy continued dancing. At the rear of the bar, Xander and Spike’s drinking session was approaching its conclusion.



“Thish band is rubbish!” Spike complained.



“No they’re not!” Xander shot back. “They’re the Dingoesh! They’re fricken great!”



“They don’t play anything half decent,” Spike pointed out.



“Like what?” Xander asked between guzzles of beer.



“Oh…” Spike thought for a moment. “How about

I ain’t seen my baby since-a nigh on a week

I need a drink so bad I c-c-can’t even s-s-speak

I wanna get drunk wontcha listen right here

I want one bourbon, one scotch and one beer”



Xander and Spike chorused, like a pair of dischordant wolves: “One bourbon. One Scotch. One Beer!”



“You’re crap,” Spike told Xander very seriously.



“You’re crap,” the young man contradicted. “You’re not even in key!”



“Bleeding am! You’re the one who’s sodding off key!”



“Well,” Xander belched, draining his last beer, “Much as I would love to stay here and continue this dishcussion, I better be going.” He reached into his pocket for his car keys.



“Hang on mate! You’re not planning on driving, are you?”



“S-shure, why not?” Xander got to his feet.



“Because you’re rat-arsed, that’s why! Just this one time, I’ll shee you home, right? I don’t want another death on my conshensh, even shomeone as ushelesh as you.”



Xander shrugged, and the unlikely pair made their way out of the Bronze. Something about the way they walked (was it Spike’s loping gait or Xander’s drunken stagger?) caught Faith’s attention. She didn’t recognise Spike, but something triggered her Slayer senses. She turned to Buffy for a quick word.



Away from the bustle and chaos of the Bronze, the Sunnydale streets were quiet and empty. Spike was looking around nervously while Xander relieved himself against a wall.



“Come on, Donkey, get a move on,” the blonde vampire urged, scanning for any sign of trouble.



“What’s your hurry?” Xander asked, zipping his pants.



“You heard him, what’s the hurry?” came a deep menacing voice behind them. Spike whirled. Three tall vampires were right behind them. Another five or six emerged from the shadows all around. There was no hope of escape.



“Sod,” Spike muttered. “Listen Xander old mate, just want you to know that all that about feeding you to the vampires, remember that? Jusht joking, okay?” The vampires hissed, snarled and attacked.



(To be continued)

Edited by: Bagheera  at: 12/4/02 3:13:50 pm

[BFR from Paris]

Spike and Xander?

Or am I reading too much into this?

[Bagheera]

BFR from Paris - Mais non! There will be no X/S aka Xander/Spike in this story, or as I prefer to call it - Spandex.

No. They despise each other too much. Okay, Xander did have the thought of getting really, really drunk and taking someone completely inappropriate home, and I can see Spike and Xander getting blind together (they are male, and after all, Giles and Ethan did it), but I think even rat-arsed, porcelain-bus-driving-Xander would draw the line at having sex with the Spike. And Spike likewise would draw the line at Xander.

Besides, they're about to get ripped apart by a pack of vampires. Enjoy the next part (soon... a few days)

And yes, all this may seem a bit off-topic, but something rather important will happen in the next episode that will bear fruit in the next story in this series. And there will be W/T smoochies in the next part, despite the apparent Spike and Xander focus.

"I am a girl. I am nice. I can play. I can jump. I can sleep." My daughter's first essay (aged 5)

[AntigoneUnbound]

Bagheera--Hello, good soul! I just got caught up on "NM" tonight and it just reminded me of how much I enjoyed "Mission Statement" and its sequel, which of course translates into how much I enjoy your writing.



Where to start...The scene at the graveyard, at Vampire Tara's grave was wonderfully done. I thought that of all the poignant elements, the one that touched me the most was Willow saying that she wanted to kiss Tara, but hesitated b/c it felt disrepectful V. Tara. I mean, that's an incredibly difficult tension/balance to achieve, I think: Tara and V. Tara aren't the same, yet they share something incredibly powerful. Willow loved/loves both of them, though w/ different nuances and shadings. The fact that Willow's hesitation felt so true and touching to me speaks to your ability to create both Taras in a compelling way.



And how much did I love the exchange w/ Parker? ("I don't know, Mary," Bagheera wondered aloud. "You'll have to tell me.") I loved it immensely. I think what cracked me up most was that his identity was revealed in mid-babble: "...and gracious Goddess, Parker Abrams, why am I not surprised it's you?" (I don't know if I got that quote exactly right; please forbear any mistakes.) I mean, she was just rambling along and suddenly she realized who he was and her way of blurting it out made me laugh with delight. I also loved her "babe in the boneyard" comment. You really write humor, and humorous dialogue, very effectively. I so enjoy that part of your work. The parallel, or continuation, in your comment about losers and misfits was really ingenious. I love those little tricks of language.



The moment of my belly's deepest laughter, however, was Tara's comment about D.O.S.: "Wasn't he some idiot hack TV producer who had three series cancelled in a single season?" I literally rocked forward in my chair at that one.



I also enjoy reading your description of Tara's love of music and the relationship she wants to maintain with it. Your description of the "cherry high" (be it music, drugs, or any peak exerience) is really captivating. One of the things I like most about Tara (present tense most definitely intentional) is that she is so aware of the gifts of her life, and she appreciates and respects them as they deserve. I see her as Xander's characterological antonym in that way. She won't take Willow for granted; she won't take her life for granted; she won't take music for granted.



I, too, had a moment of "Spike and Xander?!?" but your explanation to BFR from Paris allayed my curiosity. And "Spandex"--OK, that's priceless. I'm quite interested to see what transpires here, w/ their attack; I'm also curious to see how you'll write Spike, given his history in your works. I mean, here he seems to be genuinely hoping to keep Xander from plowing his car into a telephone pole. (And why am I not surprised that Xander, who would be the first to chastise someone else for such behavior, wouldn't think twice about driving home when he's this drunk?) Your dialogue w/ them is also realistic. I especially enjoyed the repeated references to Xander's side-kick status.



Finally--I loved the line from your daughter's essay! Tell her that whenever she wants to join the Kitten brigade, she'll have an honored seat waiting for her!



Can't wait to read more.

Mary

[Bagheera]

Antigone Unbound:





Simply overwhelming. While it's delightful when any Kitten writes in to say how much they like a particular story or scene or line, your feedback stands alone because not only do you say you like my stuff, but you also explain with such enthusiasm and clarity, why. And coming from a writer of such talent as yourself, it gives me a great deal of pleasure. Now to some specifics:



The graveyard scene. "NM" grew out of this scene alone. I don't know how hard you've looked for news of Season 7 (you don't seem to have answered my earlier private e-mail on this subject - did you get it?) and you've said earlier you don't have UPN. If you're totally unspoiled, I can tell you that the scene was written to parallel a scene in Episode 4 of S7 in which and Xander visit Tara's grave. Yuck, right? I wrote the whole scene several weeks ago, then I added in the dialogue at the beginning once I could get hold of a transcript of what Xander and Willow actually said to each other at the start of the scene - it turned out fine in the end, even if the original Xander/Willow dialogue was kind of trite and appalling, if I may say so. btw - I think the writing quality of S7 is well down on previous years. You're not missing much.



Willow/Parker and humourous dialogue in general. Dare I say, your own activities in this area have inspired me to lift my game. And "Doss"? {snicker} Couldn't resist that little dig, and who better to say the line than Tara?



I am delighted by your comments about Tara's character. I agree with you on all points there. Just how much Tara appreciates her gifts and doesn't take anything for granted will eventually come to light in the next story in this series. It's good that you've picked up hints of it already.



"Spandex" - Bit more about where Spike is headed in the next part. There will be some complications. And Xander: That was rather fun, getting him progressively sloshed. Did you note the last side-kick reference to "Donkey" - Shrek pops up once again in this story.



Thanks and best wishes,

B

"I am a girl. I am nice. I can play. I can jump. I can sleep." My daughter's first essay (aged 5)

[AntigoneUnbound]

Hey Bagheera! Thanks for the exquisitely kind words about my feedback. I just love getting into the characters and when they're written like you write them, it's so easy to do.



So--I must have missed your e-mail about Season 7 material. From what you're saying (in fact, I guess I'm quoting you here), I'm not missing much. I'd heard that there was a scene where W&X go to Tara's grave; I also hear that ME couldn't spring for a decent tombstone, considering the inscription sans emotion...I'm sorry I missed the e-mail, though. I'll check back through.



One other thing I meant to mention specifically: that whole lamenting on Willow's part about what tends to come upon them unexpectedly. Oh, the times I've longed for an espresso cart...OK, not necessarily in the middle of a cemetery, but certainly in the middle of the night! That was a great touch. And yeah, the Donkey reference was a kick (no pun intended). It's just this refrain "singing" the song of Xander's 7-year status.



I'm off for the week-end, but I can't wait to read more! Hope you have a great one.



Mary

[the vamp nurd]

Catching up is fun...



The vamp nurd........ DMW's biggest fan

[Bagheera]

Antigone Unbound - Thank you again. The tombstone inscription as far as I know is as I've written it in this story, except for the birthdate - there's a thread about that somewhere else on the Board also. Anyway, here's the end of this story, and there's more degradation for Xander. How odd.



the vamp nurd -

Messing with the new interface. You crazy scouser you. Enjoy the next part.



Part 5

Rating: M15 - Adult themes, sexual references, occasional coarse language, violence.

Disclaimer - Off-Topic warning. This update contains a bit of B/F. Not a lot, just a bit. Readers who think this is OT can skip the relevant sections. They can be identified because they have a line of *************s above and below. One word of warning - if you skip them, you may miss some background to stuff that happens in the next episode of this series.



Spike shoved Xander aside as the vampires charged, but the blonde vampire was almost as drunk as the carpenter. Two vampires caught Spike by the arms while a third punched him, hard, a couple of times in the face. The three of them then hurled Spike against the nearest wall. Spike crashed into it face-first and, momentarily stunned, he fell to the ground. Meanwhile, one of the other vampires clubbed Xander into unconsciousness, hardly necessary as it happened. Snickering, one of them hoisted the young man onto his shoulder and they set off for their nest.



Tara and Willow had had a far less eventful walk home. Once, Tara thought she heard footsteps running away from them down a side alley but when she looked, there didn’t seem to be anyone there. It could have been imagination.



Willow hummed and swung Tara’s hand in hers as they walked, keeping time to an imaginary rock band.



“You can sing if you want to,” Tara said at last. “I sing to myself all the time.”



“You know that I can’t,” the redhead answered in all seriousness.



“I know that you won’t; it’s not the same thing,” Tara chided Willow gently.



“That was so much fun tonight,” Willow continued. Tara just nodded, giving Willow’s hand an extra squeeze. “Okay, I really meant at the Bronze mostly, because earlier, visiting your grave, maybe not exactly fun, but moving, and - and comforting, and special and not bad.”



“Visiting my grave could have been a lot worse,” Tara agreed.



“Well, yeah, like there could have been a whole lot of real scary vamps, not just the poop-head…”



“Yes, but I was also thinking it must have been a lot worse for you - when I was still there, under the earth,” Tara said.



Willow stopped walking, lost in thought for a moment. “I was different then,” she said quietly at last. “I’d just come back from England, I was…I’d go there and sit and talk to you and I’d wonder why I couldn’t cry. I wasn’t quite myself…”



“Not-quite-Willow?” Tara asked kindly, taking the redhead comfortingly in her arms. Willow nodded silently against Tara’s shoulder.



“Tara, you brought me back,” the redhead murmured, her words partly muffled by the collar of Tara’s coat. “No-one else could have done it.”



“And without your love, what would vampire Tara have been?” Tara asked pointedly. The blonde looked around; they were just a few blocks from Buffy’s house. She slipped her arm through Willow’s and they recommenced walking. “Sometimes we forget what a horrible place Sunnydale is. I like your idea about souling every vamp on the planet, Willow. Maybe it’s impossible, but it’s the sort of thing we should be doing. And with your talent, who knows?”



“Well, yeah, though I was thinking earlier, vampire Parker with his soul back; who would notice?”



“Ouch. I wonder how long Faith and Buffy are going to be?”



Willow smiled broadly. “Something in mind, Tara?” They quickened their pace.



*********************************************



Slumped in the shadows next to a wall, Spike shook his head. His nose and forehead were cut, and a little cool blood ran into his eyes. He looked, and saw the vampires in a tight little knot a short distance away up the alley. One was carrying a limp bundle over its shoulder. Spike tried to rise and get after them, but a moment later he froze as two pairs of running feet came pounding up the alley behind him.



The vampires were chuckling amongst themselves, paying scant attention, and two of them were dust by the time the rest realised that the Slayers had caught them. From his vantage point lying in the shadows by the wall, Spike saw it all and it was as swift as it was brutal and balletic. After their initial surprise assault, Buffy and Faith tore into the vampires with a flurry of kicks and punches. Faith was momentarily felled by a lucky vampire punch, but the vampire over-reached and was staked by Buffy, even as Faith lashed out with a hooking foot, tripped a flanking vampire and staked it before it even hit the pavement.



The few remaining vampires fell back, trying to keep together, knowing it was their only chance of survival, but at last they broke and ran for it, dropping their burden. Faith leapt to her feet and brought down one with a well-aimed bolt from the little crossbow she kept under her coat. The running feet of the panicked vampires faded into the distance. There was a moment of utter silence. Spike grovelled in the dirt, pulling his coat over his head to hide his light-coloured hair and minimise the chance of being seen. Any thought he had entertained of joining the battle and proving his good intentions had vanished when he had identified Faith. He was certain that Buffy would never harm him after all this time, but he had no such reassurance when it came to the younger Slayer. And jokes about her tattoos and the array of metal she wore in her skin aside, Spike, deep down, feared this Slayer like no other.



“Hey,” Faith said quietly after a moment. She casually moved a little closer to her partner in slayage.



“Hey yourself,” the older woman replied, reaching out and taking Faith by the hand.



“You, um, wanna get after them? See if they’ve got a nest?” Faith asked tentatively, swaying still closer to Buffy. Even Spike noticed Faith’s deep, rapid breathing, and her deep brown eyes locked on Buffy’s.



“It’s…nah, tomorrow, right? We better see if the victim’s…okay…” Buffy seemed equally preoccupied.



“Yeah, okay, we better…” the end of the sentence was lost as Faith and Buffy, as if drawn by powerful magnets, embraced and kissed.



Moans and sighs reached the vampire’s ears, and he could see Faith’s hands roaming in places that Spike knew could have only one effect on Buffy. But here, out on the street, not even bothering to skulk in the shadows the way he and the Slayer had done!



*********************************************



The key grated in the lock, and Willow pushed open the front door. She and Tara stepped inside, and as the door swung shut behind them, the women melted together and kissed. Willow was tempted to undress Tara on the spot and make love to her, and she knew that the blonde felt exactly the same way about her. At various times, when they had been alone in the house, the pair had made love in just about every room, except for the pantry (too small) and other people’s bedrooms (not polite). They had not been systematic about it; it was just as the mood took them. The front hall was nice, Willow knew, it had a lovely wall that you could lean your weight against and the rug felt just exquisite under bare feet. But not tonight. The Slayers would be home anytime soon, and Dawn was somewhere about. Tonight it was the upstairs bedroom, but it was nice to have a little introduction to whet the appetite, Willow reflected, taking Tara’s bottom lip and pressing it between her own. The blonde witch’s hot breath caught in her throat with the new contact; her arms encircled Willow’s back, stroking and squeezing.



“Willow, darling,” Tara whispered.



Willow opened her eyes, smiling. She reached out and caressed Tara’s cheek. Then she looked about and frowned. A twitching bluish-grey glow was coming from the darkened lounge. The television was on. The redhead took a pace towards the open doorway and called: “Dawn?”



A bleary-eyed face topped by long tangled hair popped up from the couch. Next to it, Miss Kitty’s head also appeared. “Rrrr?” the cat commented, recognising the witches. The feline head vanished from sight; a second later there came a muffled thump and the cat came trotting across the floor and, purring, began rubbing herself against the witches’ legs.



“I was sleeping,” was Dawn’s rather redundant explanation. “I didn’t see anything,” she added hastily.



“We were just kissing, Dawn,” Tara chided the teenager, though not harshly.



“I know, I know, and you have every right to and this is your house as much as mine but - but, it’s supposed to be uncool to watch your parents kissing, right? It’s like the capital city of the state of Teenage Embarrassment. And you guys are, to me, as close to…d’you know what I mean?” the teenager finished hastily.



Willow and Tara looked at one another in silence for a moment, and then they both laughed. Tara held out her arms and Dawn rolled off the couch and stepped over for a hug. Willow joined the embrace, kissing Dawn’s cheek. Miss Kitty gave a little mew of protest, for Dawn had almost stepped on her.



“Do we seem so old to you?” Willow asked the teen. “Besides, Buffy is your legal guardian.”



“The law might say so, but no way am I letting her tell me what to do,” Dawn sniffed. “She’s still just my bossy big sister.”



“Dawn, it’s time you went to bed,” Tara said, pretending to be stern. They all laughed then, but Dawn obediently kissed the witches, turned the TV off and jogged upstairs to the bathroom.



Tara grinned self-consciously. “She’s still our darling little girl,” she said.



Willow nodded in agreement. “Every time you think you couldn’t possibly love Dawn any more, she does something like that, and she resets the scale of loveableness. It’s like it’s logarithmic or something, the only trouble is that that’s a lousy comparison, because logarithmic scales measure unpleasant things like loud noises and - and earthquakes, whereas Dawn, she’s the opposite -”



“Shh,” Tara whispered, covering the redhead’s babbling lips with her own. With one hand, she caressed Willow’s neck, losing her fingers in the heavy locks of her lover’s hair, while her other hand hooked into the waistband of the redhead’s jeans, pulling her close. The blonde’s breast heaved as she took a deep breath that was laden with desire. She felt her hardening nipples brush against Willow’s. “Upstairs…now,” the blonde witch said in a low voice.



*********************************************



Faith stopped kissing Buffy and pulled back. “We should,” she hesitated as she took a couple of deep breaths, “we should see if this guy’s okay, right?” The dark-haired Slayer made as if to examine the prone figure of Xander, still slumped motionless and as yet unidentified in the middle of the street.



“Faith,” Buffy said commandingly. The younger woman turned. “You’re not going to leave me high and dry like that are you?” she demanded.



“Hardly dry,” Faith retorted.



“Get back here - now,” Buffy ordered. Faith flew back into Buffy’s arms and began kissing her with redoubled passion. She caressed the older Slayer feverishly, slipping a hand down the front of Buffy’s pants.



“B, someone might come,” Faith whimpered between kisses.



“I certainly hope so.” In answer, Faith groaned incoherently, showering Buffy with kisses, over her face, ears and neck. Buffy leaned back, moving her feet apart to give Faith easier access. “Ohh, Faith, I love you…I love you…I love you…”



Spike cowered on the ground, trying to stuff his fingers into his ears, cursing his sensitive vampire hearing. At that moment he wanted to be deaf and blind. He ground his teeth helplessly as jealousy and despair flooded through him. His world was falling apart. Buffy had never once spoken those words to him, now she was raining them down on this tattooed harlot, this nobody. This little tramp that, if it weren’t for the accident of fate that made her a Slayer, would be living out a pointless life as the trailer trash that she undoubtedly was. The vampire buried his face into the dirt and screwed his eyes shut.



“Faith, I love you!” Buffy shouted in the darkness a final time, and with an explosive release of breath she collapsed against the younger woman. Faith supported Buffy in her arms, rocking her and kissing her gently.



“Please don’t do that again,” Faith whispered. “At least, not so loud. If we get busted and I get fingerprinted, I’m fucked, you know that, right?”



“Oh Faith I’m sorry, for a minute there I forgot.”



“I know. I love it when you let yourself go like that. Just - not so publicly, ‘kay?”



Buffy nodded. “Hm-mm,” she said. “Shall we - see if this guy needs any help?”



Faith nodded. She walked the few yards up the alley, bent down and turned the unconscious young man over, gasping as she recognised him.



“Faith? What’s up? Is he okay?”



“It’s Xander Harris!”



“What?” Buffy rushed to Faith’s side.



“He’s okay, I think. Jesus B, he’s shitfaced,” Faith exclaimed, as the stale beer aroma hit her.



Buffy sighed. “What a way to finish off our patrol. We better take him home. Okay, do you want the head end or the foot end?”



“If I have a real choice, I’d like to have none of Xander’s ends, thanks,” Faith said uncharitably. “But if it’s okay by you, I’ll take the head end - that way, at least I can still look at your ass while we’re walking.”



Buffy slapped herself on the forehead. “What am I thinking?” she exploded. “I bet his car’s around here someplace; we just need to find it.”



“Can you drive?” Faith asked.



“Better than he can right now,” Buffy replied, and hefting the still-unconscious Xander, the Slayers shuffled along the alley towards the main street.



“If he pukes, I’m dropping him and he can take his chances,” Faith grunted.



“Faith,” Buffy said to her companion in a chastising tone.



“What?”



“Nothing…”



When they turned a corner and were out of sight, Spike, still in his patch of deep shadow, rolled to a sitting position and rested his back against the hard bricks. He put his face in his hands, shaking his head.



“Any man ever tries to tell me it’s a turn-on watchin’ two girls goin’ at it, I’ll sodding KILL him,” the vampire said to himself furiously, grinding his hands into his eye sockets. “Buffy, why? Why? What do you see in that bint? How could you say THAT to her when you never…not even once? What has she got that I haven’t got? Eh?”



The vampire banged his clenched fist again and again on the hard asphalt, oblivious to the pain it caused him. He closed his eyes. “Got to do something, do something. Got to make her see…” he mumbled to himself over and over.



*********************************************



Safe in Tara’s arms, Willow closed her eyes and imagined that the bed she shared with her lover was a boat on an endless ocean. Tara’s hands washed over her and their orgasms rolled like waves. Hair draped over skin like the softest seaweed. Fingernails teased and pinched like tiny delinquent crabs. She rested her head on the swell of Tara’s breast and sighed.



“Tara, I love you,” Willow whispered.



“I love you, Willow, truly.”



“And forever?”



“No matter what.” Willow sighed once more and closed her eyes. What a long, strange night it had been. Curled in a ball at the foot of the bed, Miss Kitty merely purred.



The End of “Night Manoeuvres”

A new episode will follow soon. It’s called - oh no, that would be telling…

"I am a girl. I am nice. I can play. I can jump. I can sleep." My daughter's first essay (aged 5)

Edited by: Bagheera  at: 12/12/02 2:37:39 pm

[AntigoneUnbound]

Ah, Bagheera--way to leave us wantin' more...



I think that of all the things I liked about this update, the dialogue was my favorite. The exchanges b/w Willow and Tara, b/w Faith and Buffy, b/w W/T and Dawn--they all had not only wonderful material but also great rhythms, if that makes any sense. The sentences and speaking turns just have really innately enjoyable tempos to them. And the content of those exchanges, obviously, has to be good or the form wouldn't enhance it.



As I've mentioned before, I love how you write Faith. Obviously, a lot of us saw some SERIOUS homo-eroticism b/w Faith and Buffy on the show, and you carry it out with a most enjoyable gusto and realism. I always enjoy seeing her name appear in your stories.



Oh, the igominies Xander must endure...I find him far more workable as a plot device than as a fully realized character, but that may well be unique to me. In any case, I like how you used him in this story. (Forgive the callous double meaning of the word "used" here.)



Your characterization of Spike captures so well his moral complexity. He tries to do the right thing, but the motivation is almost always a compromising factor in that b/c he's usually doing it to impress or persuade Buffy. The inner dialogue you gave him was wonderfully powerful, and very realistic. And that ominous foreshadowing wherein he vows to make Buffy see things his way--I recoiled at the image, which of course means that I'll be eagerly awaiting its realization in your next story.



Speaking of foreshadowing--was I imagining that element in Willow and Tara's last exchange where they vow undying love and devotion "no matter what"? Could be my alarmist tendencies coming out, but I guess I'll have to wait to find out.



I'll be checking frequently; may the Muse muse movingly within your mind. (Hey--maybe we could invite Kittens to come up with an official muse of Willow and Tara lovin'! Hmm...I'd like to suggest "Clittoria.")



Take care,

Mary

[AntigoneUnbound]

Hey Bagheera--I forgot to mention in the reply I just sent that I completed my own responses to feedback to "On Second Thought," which is now in the completed fics archive, and let's just see if I can make this sentence any longer, shall we? Anyway, I replied to your "six wicket" (or was it "sex Wicca"?) feedback and wanted you to know.



Again--I can't wait to see what next emerges from your creative energies!



Mary

[snuggle79]

hey!

Quote:

---

Not-quite-Willow?” Tara asked kindly, taking the redhead comfortingly in her arms. Willow nodded silently against Tara’s shoulder. “Tara, you brought me back,” the redhead murmured, her words partly muffled by the collar of Tara’s coat. “No-one else could have done it

---

so true..



I actually liked Dawn in this part.

Oh, and reading the parts in fuchsia was uh..kinda eye hurting, well at least for me...see...that's how my eyes looked liked after reading it..

I can't wait for the next part(s), cause i have the feeling, that you are coming up with some big things about W/T and Spike.

Great update!

snuggle79

__________________

"I got so lost"

"I found you, i will always find you"

Edited by: snuggle79 at: 12/12/02 12:05:32 pm

[the vamp nurd]

Quote:

---

Messing with the new interface. You crazy scouser you. Enjoy the next part.

---

Bagheera honey it's the only way to play....



Love the fic.....



the vamp nurd DMW's Puppy "spank me bitch*

[Bagheera]

Antigone Unbound - Dear Mary, thanks as ever for your kind comments and analysis. Dialogue? It was fairly important in this part, because even though this part brought this episode to an end, and therefore some things happened, "NM" was also a lead-in to the next episode in this series. And as much as "things that happen" are important, of greater importance are the interactions between the characters, their positions and their conflicts. And the way these positions are occupied and maintained are through what they say to each other or about each other. So yes, W/T, B/F, Dawn/Buffy, S/B - lots of things going on here, so lots of dialogue. Hope it all worked. There were some things that had to be left out precisely because of that tempo and rhythm that you talk about, but they can appear in later instalments.

Faith? Me too. Willow/Tara is the focus and is the relationship that drives the entire MS story line, but when it comes to individuals, there's just something about Faith's combination of strength and fragility that makes her great fun to write. She's also a great one for speaking the truth, which is always useful.

Xander? Not much for the Xand-man to do this time except get bottled in the side of the head and get rescued. You're right, he was a plot device to bring B/F and S together in a particular way. Once he's fulfilled his purpose, he gets carried off stage like any other prop.

There was rather a lot of foreshadowing in this part, which you correctly picked up on. I will have the teaser to the next story posted soon, it's almost done. And I like your idea of an official Muse.

I'll have to send you a private e-mail soon, this is getting rather long. I noted your final response to "OST" - wow, thanks.



B



snuggle79 - Thank you very much. Aw, you liked that little W/T exchange? Me too. Just reinforcing the point of how important they are to each other's well-being.

Liked Dawn? You sound surprised. Dawn in this story is meant to be likeable, unlike in RW Buffy.

Sorry about the fuchsia coloured text. As you can see, I've edited it to make it all one colour. The B/F bits are bounded by asterisks now. The mods weren't keen on it either.

Big things are indeed coming for all the Scoobies, won't be long.



the vamp nurd - That's delightful, thank you. And don't get me wrong; play with that interface any way you like. Glad you're enjoying this.

B

"I am a girl. I am nice. I can play. I can jump. I can sleep." My daughter's first essay (aged 5)

[Bagheera]

“Bastard Universe”

This story takes place in the “Mission Statement” arc, a couple of weeks after “Night Manoeuvres”

Rating: R18 for coarse language, violence, sexual references and adult themes.

Disclaimer: JW, ME, you own the characters, you treated them infamously, it’s time someone else had a turn.

Preview: In this tale, Willow and Tara find themselves enduring their most difficult test yet as the Hellmouth’s deepest and darkest secret is finally revealed.



Willow trotted down the stairs, humming to herself. It was a tune Tara was fond of, something about hearing the racecourse bells on a sunny Saturday, covering the window and going back to bed. Well, it was Saturday, she and Tara had done exactly that (except for the racecourse bit, Sunnydale didn’t have one), very satisfactorily, but now it was late morning and the redhead’s growling stomach was telling her in no uncertain terms that the time for indulgent sleep-ins (or more accurately, lie-ins) was long past.



As expected, the kitchen had already been vacated by the time Willow got there. The Slayers were gardening and hanging out the washing, while Dawn was seated on the porch with a book, pen and notepad. From upstairs, Willow could hear the plumbing singing softly to itself as Tara showered. It was one of those glorious warm Sunnydale mornings when life seemed to tingle with limitless possibilities and the world’s problems seemed a million miles away. Willow heart soared. She set about making an extra large pot of tea, just in case the Slayers and Dawn wanted some, and put some bread in the toaster.



Vampires do not keep set hours. They need sleep just the same as mortals, but they can be equally as active during the daytime as at night, provided that they do not venture out of doors. Spike entered Willy’s via the basement. It was a quiet time for the bar, but there were still a handful of demons and vampires about. The blonde vampire stalked up to the bar and ordered an Apple Crush (A positive poured over chopped ice). He sipped and with an apparently careless and casual glance, looked around. He signalled the barman with a tilt of his head.



“What? There’s nothing wrong with the drink,” the barkeep said defensively.



“Need some information,” Spike said curtly. “About a Slayer. Name of Faith.”



The barman smiled coldly, picked up a towel and began polishing glasses. “What do you want to know about her? But I’ll give you a friendly warning: ask too many questions, she finds out, you’re good as dusted, bro.”



“Save it. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt.”



The barman chuckled. “Maybe she’ll sell me your coat when she’s through with you. Don’t think you’ve got anything else that’ll interest her…Talk to Leon,” he pointed out a wizened-looking vampire slouched in a dark corner of the bar. “He’s been around, got lots of stories about Slayers. Don’t know how much of it’s true. Word is he was part of the Mayor’s crew a few years back. If he was, he’ll know of her, all right. But you don’t want to believe everything he says. They say he was still outdoors for a second when the solar eclipse finished – fried his brains a bit.” The barman circled his forefinger at his temple a few times to emphasise the point.



Spike sighed, offered the barkeep a curt word of thanks along with a stingy tip, took his glass and walked over to where the thin, wasted-looking vampire was sitting. The barman watched Spike’s receding back with cheerful contempt and returned to his duties.



“Hello, mate,” Spike greeted the vampire in a light-hearted manner. “What’re you drinking?” Leon looked at him suspiciously.



“What could the Soul Vamp want?” Leon muttered, half to himself. He did indeed look sunburned. Unlike most vampires who tend towards the pallid and bloodless look, Leon’s face was an unhealthy brick red, the skin dry and seamed like old boot leather. The fingers of his fleshless hands were curled like claws. He reached out for his highball and sipped.



Spike wrinkled his nose. Might be wasting my time, he thought to himself. This vamp was so far gone, he was drinking Suck, a cheap and revolting concoction that Willy obtained from local hospitals. Consisting of nothing more or less than the contents of operating room suction bottles, it was the drink of choice of vamps that were too weak and too poor to afford anything else. Apart from blood, it might also contain quantities of any other body fluid you could imagine; it was often heavily watered down and frequently contained chunks of fat, clot, and traces of dissolved anaesthetic gas just for that little extra kick. Even at his most desperate and crazed, Spike had never been reduced to drinking it, while Leon was knocking it back by the glassful. The blonde vampire forced back his nausea and sat.



“Friendly chat, that’s all,” Spike managed to say, “about a mutual acquaintance. By the name of Faith.” Leon grimaced, shrugged, knocked back the last of his drink and passed over the empty glass in expectation of a refill. Wordlessly, smiling thinly, Spike returned to the bar.



While the toast was just crisping up nicely and the tea was brewing, Willow, for want of anything better to do for the moment, opened her laptop and switched it on. Dawn drifted in, having heard the kettle boiling.



“Good morning Willow?” the teenager chirped.



“Hi Dawnie. Tea?”



“Yes, please,” the shiny-haired one grinned, passing over her mug. Willow launched the mail program on her laptop, then set about pouring the tea and buttering her toast. Dawn accepted her mug gratefully and sat on a stool in the kitchen, sipping. Willow had just sat down before her computer and sunk her teeth into her toast for her first bite of actual food for the day (as opposed to other, even more sensual forms of biting, of which it must be said there had been more than a few already that morning) when Tara walked into the kitchen.



“Hi,” the blonde greeted her lover with a squeeze and a lingering kiss on the cheek. “Is there any tea spare?”



“Hmm mmfffmm fm,” Willow pointed at the pot, her mouth full of toast and melted butter. “Wmmm mfm hm?”



“That’s okay honey, I’ll get it,” Tara smiled. “Researching?”



“Mffm…” Willow swallowed, took a sip of tea, and continued, “no, just the mail.”



“Oh.” Tara poured her tea and noticed a couple of slices of bread still in the toaster. A gentle wisp of steam was still rising from them. “These anybody’s?” she asked Willow, indicating them.



“I was kind of hoping they could be yours,” Willow smiled. Tara grinned and accepted the little gift. The hacker turned her attention back to her laptop for the moment. Miss Kitty came padding into the kitchen, yowling. Dawn had fed her earlier that morning, but there was always a chance of seconds, the cat knew, if she made just the right amount of noise. She meowed and nibbled at Tara’s legs.



“Morning Miss Kitty,” Tara sang softly to the cat. The blonde looked up at Willow. “She still won’t talk to us,” she complained, but without rancour.



“I know,” Willow sighed. “I really thought that spell we tried on her last week to make her talk would work, didn’t you?” Tara nodded and made a sympathetic shape with her lips. “I think all it’s done has made her really smart.” Miss Kitty turned and regarded the red-haired witch for a second, blinked and turned away again.



“Maybe you shouldn’t be pushing her,” Dawn put in.



“I guess not,” Willow agreed, giving her attention back to the screen and scanning more mail messages, “but I’d really like to know where she was when she was lost for all that time.”



“Well I think it’s cool, a cat having secrets,” the teenager asserted. “She’s like – Cryptic Cat or - Mystery Moggie.”



“Rr,” Miss Kitty said to Dawn warningly, as if to say, “Excuse me, not a ‘moggie’, thank you.”



Willow glanced at the preview of the next message on her screen and frowned. It had a black border around the text, usually a sure sign that it was an advertisement, and the hacker was momentarily annoyed that her spam filter hadn’t booted it. Her finger hovered over the Delete key for a moment, but then she noticed the sender’s identity. As she read, the hacker’s expression changed, from annoyance through shock, disbelief and finally profound grief. She looked at Tara, her green eyes already filling and the drops threatening to spill at any moment.



Tara noticed at once. “Honey? Willow, what’s the matter?” Dawn stared in silence, waiting.



Willow sniffed, blinked once. Finally, she managed to say in a tiny, broken voice: “Riley’s dead.”



(To be continued)

[SilverWingedNemesis]

Holy crap. Riley's dead?



Buffy's not going to be happy!!! No siree!!



Thanks for the update!!



~NICKOLE~

------------

"I'm just kinda taking life as it happens. Throwing spaghetti at the wall and seeing what sticks."-Amber Benson

[AntigoneUnbound]

Bagheera--



Oh.



Shit.



What a fantastic mingling of light and dark in this chapter, Bagheera. You paint us such a warm, inviting picture of Willow and her family on a sunny morning, complete with toast, gardening, and laundry; and then you take us into a dark bar (made darker, I think, by the fact that you set that scene during the day--it serves as great contrast) and invite us to eavesdrop on what promises to be a most disturbing conversation. And here I have to say what a fantastic touch you added by giving the names of various drinks: the Apple Crush and Suck, the latter having been so explicitly described as to make my stomach lurch. I mean, that's just a great touch, Bagheera; the kind of thing that gives us the best possible seat in the house from which to watch the action. Ditto your description of Leon. I don't think I've ever encountered a vampire who had been slightly burned but survived, and it's a wonderfully unique touch.



Very ingenious of Spike (in a heinous, reprehensible way, of course) to seek out info before plotting a course of action against Faith (and, by extension, Buffy). Say what you will about Mr. Dyed By His Own Hand, he's a smart one. I find myself wondering what information Leon will pony up, esp. if Spike is spotting him some Suck, and my, wasn't that just an evocative sentence?



I love that Willow can be mumbling around a mouthful of toast and Tara can understand her. Again, a great descriptive touch that brings our girls into sharper distinction in our minds' eyes.



But Riley...He's another one that seems to elicit a lot of different reactions from people, and he seems about as different from Faith as two people can be. How will Buffy react to his death? How will it affect her relationship w/ Faith?



AND WHAT'S THIS MAJOR CHALLENGE OUR GIRLS MUST FACE?!? You can't really expect me to go about the mundane task of grading papers when I know that angst is afoot!



I'm so glad to see the next installment up so soon, Bagheera. This is my kind of holiday spirit!



Mary

[the vamp nurd]

capt cardboard is dead?



Only kidding.



Riley no comment, MKF cute.



"Wanna bite me Willow?" Tara to Willow Howling at the moon.



[Quick plug]

[Bagheera]

SilverWingedNemesis - Hey, nice ID, but it raises one question: exactly whose nemesis are you? Buffy will be unhappy as you say - next update.



Dear Antigone Unbound - sorry about the lurching tummy. Thanks as always for your ever-welcome comments. Light vs. dark - a handy horror-story cliche, it must be said. Nothing like a bit of sun-drenched suburban normality before we plunge back into the dark side. Interesting how you describe "Willow and her family"- that's sweet and very apt.

Spike will go about his heinous business very soon, and of course it will be couched in excuses and rationalisations about true love and doing what's best for Buffy. "Dyed by his own hand"

Lucid Toast-munchy Willow? Glad you liked. Just another happy-home touch.

Riley - can't see many folks on this Board shedding tears over him, the impact as you say will have to be on Buffy and Faith.

2nd instalment is nearly ready. Happy holidays; some of us are still working. : -->



the vamp nurd - captain cardboard? or was it captain cucumber? Just kidding. I'm glad you like MKF

"I am a girl. I am nice. I can play. I can jump. I can sleep." My daughter's first essay (aged 5)

[Bagheera]

Part 2

Rating: PG13 for angst and adult themes. Violence.



“Ah, Faith,” Leon chuckled. “What a girl she was. Apple of the ole Mayor’s eye. Everything she wanted, she got. Nice apartment, clothes, toys…”



“This is not some adopted waif we’re talking about, you berk,” Spike interrupted. “Sod Dickens. Sod Merchant bloody Ivory. Faith is a vampire Slayer.”



Leon nodded and sipped a little more of his vile drink. “She was a Slayer all right. Anybody the Mayor wanted out of the way, Faith was only too eager to please her old sugar daddy. And quite a few he didn’t ask for, she did ‘em for fun. Freebies. Girl was a one-woman slaughterhouse.” The wizened vampire looked wistfully into the distance and drank again.



“Wait a minute. You mean people – mortals? Humans?”



Leon shrugged as if to say, “so what?” But then he said: “Well, there was the Mayor’s assistant. Allan. Never really got to the bottom of that one. Coulda been he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or maybe he was gonna rat on the operation and Faith took him out. Personally I think that’s what happened. And there was some professor of archaeology that knew too much. And a few others. Like I said, she was great to have around.”



“What happened to her?”



Leon winced as a painful memory came back to him. “Mayor got blown up, the other Slayer, the whiny little self-righteous one, put Faith into a coma, nearly killed her. When Faith came to, she’d got religion.”



“Oh, no,” Spike offered in false sympathy.



“Yeah,” Leon agreed. “It can bring down the best of us. I don’t know this next bit first-hand now, but word is that Faith went to the LA cops and confessed everything: murders, shady deals, everything. I heard she confessed to a whole lot of stuff she hadn’t even done. They locked her up and threw away the key.”

________________________________________________

“The wheel stopped turning,” Buffy, pale and red-eyed, was sitting on the couch. Ashen-faced, Faith was beside her, holding the older Slayer’s hand. The others were gathered in a silent circle around the room. “The last thing he said to me was ‘the wheel never stops turning.’ He was wrong.”



“Buffy,” Faith said quietly.



“I have to go upstairs now,” Buffy said quietly, detaching herself from Faith and leaving the room. Stricken, the younger Slayer watched her go.



“Buffy? B?” Faith asked her lover’s retreating back. There was no response. “Damn it!” the brunette raged, slamming an angry fist on the couch. Deep within the upholstery, a spring twanged in protest. “It feels like she’s sticking that knife in me all over again!”



Tara touched the anguished Slayer gently on the arm. “I don’t understand; c-can you tell us about it?”



Faith looked down and nodded. “She’s blaming me, I just know it. I just want her to come out and say it; I can’t stand it when she locks me out like this.”



“It wasn’t your fault when Riley left,” Willow said.



“Maybe not, but it’s what B’s thinking right now. I just wish she would say something. If she screamed at me or – or hit me, I could deal, but – but her silence hurts me more than anything…” Faith trailed off, putting her hands to her face, letting her long dark hair fall over her eyes.



“I don’t think that’s what Buffy’s thinking,” Tara opined. “I think she’s just trying to deal with his death, th-the same as the rest of us. But if you think Buffy might be blaming you, wait for the right moment and just tell her you’re sorry about what happened. Then talk about it. But for now, try to give her some time and space.” Faith nodded but said nothing.



“It sucked when he left the last time,” Dawn sniffed, brushing tears from her cheeks. “I don’t have words for how it feels now.” Willow nodded and hugged the teenager.



“Please, read the whole thing,” Tara asked Will.



“Tara, I don’t think I can,” Willow responded.



“Sam was grieving when she wrote this; I think it would mean a lot to her. I-I think she might - feel that we’re there with her, talking with her. She might need it,” Tara finished awkwardly.



Hesitantly, Willow complied. “I’m sorry to send this by e-mail,” Sam’s message began, “but I can’t rely on the mail service in this place. I know that the satellite phone works and that this message will get through. There is no easy way to say this. Riley died yesterday…” A sigh circled the room as the hacker read.



Riley and Sam’s unit had been pursuing some demons through marsh country. From the message, there was no indication even which continent they were on. They had temporarily lost the trail and set up a bivouac. Riley had been scouting the perimeter when some great beast had risen from a nearby pool and attacked their camp. He had fought it off with his pistol, forcing it to retreat back under the water, and he was just about to toss a grenade after it when a pair of long snaky tentacles had emerged from the black water, wrapped around his legs and pulled him under the surface. Amid the commotion and trashing, there had been a single underwater explosion. Riley’s grenade had gone off, killing both him and the creature instantly. Sam wasn’t certain how long it would be before they would be able to bring Riley home for burial. A helicopter had been summoned to take Riley’s body back to base; Sam had gone with it, but now all of their transport was currently needed to reinforce the expedition that had suddenly lost two of its most experienced members. Sam promised to let them know when she would be back Stateside and the time and place of the memorial service.



Sam’s message concluded: “Riley rarely spoke about his time in Sunnydale, but whenever he did it was always with great fondness for all of you. His ancestors hailed from county Galway. In his memory and in memory of those who came before him and travelled so far, please do me and him the honor of raising your glasses tonight in a toast.”



“We have been invited to a wake,” Willow said quietly when she finished reading the message.



“We should go – tonight,” Tara suggested. “We’ll go to the Bronze, I guess. I’ll call Giles and Anya, if you like.”



“I’ll call Xander, he’d want to be there,” Willow said. “And Tara – take your guitar with. Riley would have liked to have heard you, I think. You always know the right song.” The blonde nodded.

_________________________________________________

“Okay,” Spike smiled frostily at Leon. “For the bonus question: if she was doing time for murder, why is she back on the streets?”



The wizened vampire was silent. He held up an again empty glass. “You think a few of these is all this information’s worth?”



“Of course not,” Spike said affably. He reached into a pocket and flashed a handful of notes, showing them to Leon just long enough for them to register in the vamp’s half-fried brain. “The drinks are just a retainer. Meet me downstairs in ten, give me what you’ve got, and you get the tip. Okay?” Leon licked his lips and nodded. Spike rose and without another word headed for the basement exit. No-one in the almost-empty bar paid him the slightest attention.



Spike waited for a few minutes in the sewer tunnel under the bar. As a reflex he patted his pockets, but then he remembered – he didn’t smoke cigarettes anymore. To give himself something to do with his hands, he slipped them deep down into his coat pockets and waited, whistling very softly through his teeth.



Leon didn’t keep Spike waiting long. With eager steps he descended the metal ladder into the underground gloom. Spike took one last look around to make sure no one was watching and gave an imperative toss of his chin. He inclined one side of his head towards Leon, who sidled up close and whispered in Spike’s ear. When Leon had finished speaking, Spike’s eyebrows shot up and he nodded.



“Interesting, my friend, very interesting indeed,” Spike said quietly, “and here’s your tip.” Snarling, Spike pulled a stake from his coat pocket and jammed it into the vampire’s chest. Leon screamed as he was dusted.



Nonchalantly, Spike brushed dust off his stake and his long dark coat. “Oh yeah, the tip: always cover your tracks, mate,” he smiled.



(To be continued)

Edited by: Bagheera  at: 12/22/02 2:53:51 pm

[the vamp nurd]

Spike's jealous?



At least Riley went out with a bang bad pun sorry.







& - life's best couple.

[Bagheera]

the vamp nurd: RIP Riley. Although not recorded in the text of the story, and it was muffled because his head was underwater at the time, Iowa's last words were: "Blast it!"

And Spike: he's as jealous as can be. But he always was. Silly bugger. But as you'll see, he's just one the bastards populating this bastard universe.

"I am a girl. I am nice. I can play. I can jump. I can sleep." My daughter's first essay (aged 5)

[AntigoneUnbound]

Bagheera--The body count's a-risin', eh? Honestly, what did Leon expect when Spike invited him to move it outside? It was very sneaky and even more ingenious for you to keep us in the dark about the story behind Faith's early release. Spike's reaction lets us know that it was something compelling. ("I wonder what Bagheera has up that tricky sleeve," Mary wondered to herself.)



It was tough to read the scene of Buffy's reaction to the news of Riley's death, b/c it captures what I see as one of her deepest Achilles heels: her tendency to pull into herself when she most needs to let the people who love her do just that. And poor Faith is just dying inside, wanting to comfort Buffy but knowing or at least suspecting that she may be the last person to do so right now. I know that feeling of wanting the other person to yell, cry, do anything but retreat into silence--it's excruciating.



That was a wonderful little exchange at the very end, when Willow tells Tara to bring her guitar b/c she always knows the right song. That touch very nicely captures one of what I see as Tara's essential characteristics: when it comes to all things emotional, esp. those pertaining to pain and sadness, Tara just KNOWS what to say and do. She'd be a helluva grief counselor.



So here's a question for you, oh wise Bagheera: what form of speech is the word "sod," and how can you use it? When Spike (on TV) says "soddin'," is that in fact what he's saying (if that makes any sense)? Or am I spelling/pronouncing it all wrong? It seems like a parallel for "fuck," in both meaning and form possibilities. Any pointers on the profanities would be much appreciated.



I await the next installment like (to quote Xander to Cordelia, back in S-2) a big dumb dog.



Mary

[Bagheera]

Dear Antigone Unbound

Once again I swoon at your eloquent and lyrical responses. What better Christmas cheer could there be than a missive from you?

"The story behind Faith's early release" - Well, if you recall that in "The Prodigal Returns" (MS Episode 9, quite a few pages back in this thread now), Faith tells that she broke out of stir to avoid being killed. The burning question is, how much of this does/did Leon know? I won't keep you waiting very long.

Buffy and her responses to grief and loss: she's like that, isn't she? She ran away after Angel, she fell apart and had to be rescued by Willow when Dawn was kidnapped by Glory. There are a few other examples. Sometimes I think she has worse abandonment issues than Dawnie.

And yes, W&T remain the sensible pair who are holding this shambles together, and there'll be more of that coming, I promise.

"Sod" and "Sodding" - now, not being a Pom (you might say "limey"), and given the state of their cricket team I am forever grateful of that fact, I cannot speak with absolute expertise, but you are essentially correct about the usage of the word and your spelling's right too. "Sod!" is an exclamation much like "Damn"; you can invite someone you don't like to "sod off" and "sodding" is an adjective that can be added for emphasis (as in "sodding Tories!"). Its usage more or less parallels the word "fuck" except that it has no sexual connotation that I am aware of. For that, you may use the word "shag" instead, as Spike has done once or twice on the show.



Have a festive Christmas and a safe and fulfilling New Year.

"I am a girl. I am nice. I can play. I can jump. I can sleep." My daughter's first essay (aged 5)

Edited by: Bagheera  at: 12/22/02 8:52:47 pm

[snuggle79]

ok, now that was unexpected. Riley's dead??

And Spike being jealous... hmm, can't wait for more.

great update!



snuggle79

__________________

"I got so lost"

"I found you, i will always find you"

Edited by: snuggle79 at: 12/23/02 6:40:28 am

[Bagheera]

snuggle79, Thanks very much, more coming soon. Have a happy and safe Noel.

"I am a girl. I am nice. I can play. I can jump. I can sleep." My daughter's first essay (aged 5)