This is my first fic, so please be gentle!! ;)
Title: Revealing Strength
Author: CopperAndGold
Feedback: Please!
Spoiler Warning: None, really... but it is set in season 5, after Family.
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me... me as in moi... not ME... Mutant... Oh, and to hell with it! You know what I mean. *grumble*
Rating: R? Who really knows... there will be swearing and if the mood strikes me, maybe some witchy lovin'.
Pairings: W/T primarily, but the whole cast is there.
On with the show...
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Revealing Strength
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Part 1
*******
Willow was sitting at the Magic Box’ research table, hugging a cup of coffee while Buffy was in the back, training. They were waiting for the others to arrive so they could figure out what had happened the night before. The witch could hear her best friend taking out her frustrations on the punching bag, and her mutterings between hits. “Great job at being The Slayer, Buff.”
Thump-thump “Can’t even protect your best friend’s girlfriend!”
thump-THUMPWillow was about to go to the training room to try and placate her friend when she was startled by the chime of the bell over the door. Xander, Anya and Giles rushed into the shop.
“Willow, what has happened?” Giles exclaimed, seeing the troubled look on the redhead’s face. “Are you alright?” Willow simply shook her head from side to side, knowing that if she tried to speak, her voice would get caught in her throat.
“Where’s Tara?” Always straightforward, Anya ploughed on not noticing the look of anguish wash over Willow’s face. “If this is a meeting, shouldn’t everyone be here?”
“Guys?” Buffy rushed out of the training room when she heard the others arrive. “Good, you’re all here. Something happened last night and we need all the help we can get.” She wiped a towel over her face and sat down next to Willow, offering her a sip from her water bottle. Once the redhead declined with a shake of her head, Buffy guzzled its contents down.
Anya’s patience was growing thin. She hated when people didn’t answer her questions, as if she wasn’t standing in the same room as them. “Where’s Tara? She should be here. She’s good at figuring things out once she decides to speak.” Having noticed his best friend’s reaction to the mentions of Tara, Xander stepped next to his fiancé. “Ahn…” He gave her a reproaching glare, his eyes quickly darting back and forth between Willow and Anya. The latter, of course, didn’t get the hint.
“What? It’s true! She’s shy and all, but she only speaks when she knows what she’s talking about. Unlike some of yo-”
“Tara’s been kidnapped.” Willows voice was so soft and pained, a pin dropping could have been heard. A tremor could be seen in her limbs as tears silently made their way down her cheeks. Her efforts at keeping a cool demeanour were shot once Buffy laid a hand on her shoulder. She started crying harder, and ran to the bathroom.
Giles took off his glasses, and pointed them towards his Slayer agitatedly. “Buffy, could you please tell me what in the bloody hell is going on?”
Buffy sighed and rubbed her forehead with her hand, trying to get all the facts straight. Truth was, she really didn’t want to be the one telling the story. “See… last night, Willow and Tara… well, they were… uh… sleeping? And I guess while they were, you know… sleeping, something came and took Tara away.” She knew she looked far too uncomfortable to be credible, but she couldn’t help but think Willow should be telling the story. Especially if the details counted, which lets face it, they always did.
“Wouldn’t’ve Willow noticed something, or some
one come into the bedroom and take her girlfriend out of bed?” It was a perfectly reasonable question, thought Xander. So why was Buffy looking at him with her Slayer glare?
“Well, normally she would have… but she was really, uh… distracted?” Buffy tried her best fake smile, but it came out as a grimace. Noticing the disbelieving looks from her friends, she grunted irritably as she pushed up from her sitting spot, and started pacing. “Okay, so they weren’t sleeping. They were… they were…”
“We were making love.” Willow walked back into the room, a determined look on her face. The usually shy witch bore no sign of embarrassment as she sat at the table. “She was making love to me.”
“Oh! Uh, Right… right.” Giles took the opportunity to clean his glasses, and blush.
Xander got a far-away look in his eyes, and started grinning until he received a swift slap behind the head. “Ow! Okay, so I deserved that.” He said, casting a sheepish look around the room.
“Okay,” Having recovered from Xander’s libido, Anya broke the uncomfortable silence hanging between them, “so, how could you
not notice her disappearing?”
Buffy lowered her head and knocked it softly on the table’s surface with a grunt. She’d heard parts of the story before. Willow had been hysterical, running into her bedroom only clad in bed sheets. Between the witch’s sobs, Buffy had made out most of the important information. After calming her friend, she’d convinced her to put some clothes on before running out to find Tara.
A three hour search at two in the morning, had turned nothing up. They’d decided to go back home, and call the gang to the Magic Box to let them know what had happened.
“I was… uh,” Willow squirmed in her seat, some of her shyness making an appearance. “I was sort of… levitating, at the time. I uh… I wasn’t really aware of my surroundings.” She found an interesting piece of lint on her sweater, and decided to study it at length.
Anya just nodded her head, as if everything had been made clear. She was so pleased, in fact, that she decided to let Xander drool a bit. Giles, on the other hand, tried his best not to look too interested. His interest being on a purely scholarly level, of course. He really needed to understand everything that had happened. But the questions that needed to be asked, he had no interest in asking.
“I uh… I said something to her and she wasn’t answering,” Willow mumbled, “and when I came back down, she was gone. The window was open, and it hadn’t been before.”
*******
Part 2
*******
Candlelight flickered across the jagged rock surface of the cave, shadows moving in and out, as if in a shadow-puppet show. A man hovered over a form in a corner, chuckling to himself.
“What’s so funny over there?” A booming voice came from the back, making the man flinch slightly before chuckling again, and answering. “I was just thinking how, back in the day, I would’ve thought she was a sinner, or a whore. She’d’ve made me sick!” He kicked at the slumped form covered with a dirty blanket, causing a yelp from below his boot. “Now, all I want to do is sink my teeth in’er.” He crouched down and peered into the folds of the blanket. Among tangled blond strands of hair, and reeking, soiled cloth were two, deep blue eyes staring back, petrified.
“You leave her alone, Thomas. Once we have what we need from her then you can indulge.” With that, Evandor walked into the room, putting a satchel down on a table, before walking towards his friend. “You’re really a twisted fuck, Padre.” Evandor slapped Thomas on the shoulder before continuing. “Who knew turning a priest would be so much fun?”
It started as a heave, then grew into a bouncing of shoulders as Thomas started laughing uncontrollably, trying to say something between spasms. “Y-you remember the look on the—“ He sucked in a lungful of unneeded air, at which point Evandor also started snickering. “The look on the face of those—those kids at communion!?” He slapped his knee with a loud
snap and doubled over, wheezing. Evandor laid a hand on his childe’s back, trying to control his own laughter. “Yeah, I remember. The first kid in line opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, waiting for the—“ He lifted both his hands, making air-quotation-marks, “’body of Christ’ you just leaned over and bit it right out!” They were both roaring at this point, lost in their memories.
Behind them, Tara struggled to make herself as quiet and small as possible. If she was, they would forget about her. It always used to work with dad and Donnie. Well, it sometimes did. It would work now. She hoped it would.
***
“Okay, so why don’t you just do your Tinkerbel thing? Could find her that way.” Xander was really trying to keep his mind on the problem at hand. The fact that Anya was ever vigilant of his every reaction, made it much easier.
“I-I can’t get to her. It’s as if someone’s blocking me.” Willow looked down at the table, twisting her fingers together in her lap. “I can’t feel her. She – I could always feel her.” Xander reached over and laid a hand on his best friend’s shoulder. He turned to Buffy, sending her a pleading look. Buffy could only wince, she had no idea what to do… unless.
“Spike!” At the look of confusion on the four faces turned towards her, she continued hesitantly. “Uh… h-he might know something. You know, he might want to help. A little bribery here, a little pummelling there…” She said, tipping her head and hands from side to side, emphasising each iteration, “makes Spike a useful thing.”
“Oh, and there’s always Willy. You can torture him, and get important information that way!” Anya said excitedly, happy she could help and be an important part of the group. Truth was, she liked Tara. The blonde witch was the only one out of all of them -- except Xander of course -- with whom she had a connection. Well, not a lesbian-orgasm-friend type of connection, but still.
“Good thinking, Anya.” Willow, Xander and Buffy all turned to look quizzically at the Watcher. “Erm… yes, well. As much as it pains me to say, she has a point. Buffy, you should go to Willy’s bar and try getting information there.” He then pointed at Xander and Anya, “You two should go to Spike’s crypt, and see if we can buy his services.”
As the assigned members of the Scooby gang started to march out, Willow piped up. “Uh, Giles? What about me? I have to do something! I have to help find her…” She looked pleadingly at the Watcher. She felt so useless. She couldn’t use her magicks, and without those… what good was she?
Giles set an indulging gaze upon his protégé. “Willow, you and I must stay here and research how to break whatever barrier is keeping you from sensing Tara.” At the noticeable sag of the witch’s shoulders, he added, “That is what Tara needs from you right now. That is what’s most important.”
She wanted to be out there, helping find her girlfriend. As if the physicality of searching the streets, or roughing up a snitch – even glaring menacingly at Spike – would be a balm to her worries. It would make her feel like she was
doing something. She knew she wasn’t the roughing-up type of gal. She knew she couldn’t glare a puppy to a whimper, much less a former Big Bad. No, Willow Rosenberg was not the avenger; the hero out to find the love of her life – no, that was left to those who wield the strength of body needed to cut, slash, fight, mangle, bash there way through, and save the damsel in distress. Her damsel.
Willow resigned herself to the fact that she was still bookish. Sure, they were Witchcraft books, but still –
bookish. She tightened her lips in a pretty, straight-pink line – almost cartoon-ish in nature – and nodded once, acquiescing to what the elder patriarch of the group was suggesting. Still, not liking it one bit.
“Alright then, off you lot go and please do be careful.” Giles waved them off. He walked back towards the table, sat opposite Willow and waited for the chime of the bell before saying anything more.
“Um… Willow, there are more things I need to know. Details, and such.” He took his glasses off to polish them, but they slipped and clattered across the table. Reaching for them, he continued with a nervous waver to his voice. “Y-you said that you were levitating…” He cleared his throat, pink tipped high on his cheeks. “W-was it a-a result o-of um.. o-or maybe, maybe Tara was sustaining t-the… the levitation…”
Willow sighed loudly. She didn’t want to talk about this, she always had difficulty with sexual discussions. She was not shy in the bedroom, neither was Tara. But these were things that were kept
there. The safe place where little curses whispered in the dark didn’t make it past a lover’s ear – trusting it would never leave that room, their sanctuary. Now this. Having to reveal a very private and intimate part of her sexual relationship to-to a father figure! “Do you really need to know this Giles? I-I mean, what does it have to do with Tara being kidnapped?” She squirmed uncomfortably in her seat.
Giles pinched the bridge of his nose. “I believe it is important for me to know who was doing the magick. Who was left vulnerable, if Tara was somewhat left weakened by-by… casting.” He put his glasses back on, not realising he hadn’t polished them. “If your levitation was the culmination of-of the… um, the evening…”
The witch was getting frustrated with the Watcher’s uncomfortable mutterings. She just wanted to get this going; her girlfriend was still out there! “Giles, don’t bust a blood vessel!” At Giles’ stunned reaction, she shrivelled. “It happens, sometimes… it’s not a spell or anything. No one casts, it just happens.” Truth was, she didn’t really know, herself. “Tara said that it might be natural magick… you know? Like, when the soul feels so happy and light, it can just float.” Thinking of the blonde witch, her eyes brimmed with tears; her chin started quaking. She shook her head, and cleared her throat. “So, yeah… It just happens.”
Giles became very silent, and looked as though he was trying to stare a hole through the table. “Giles?” At the redhead’s voice, the Watcher started. “What? Oh, yes… right. This doesn’t happen every time, then?” He was onto something, Willow could see it. She shook her head. “What is it?” she was getting curious.
“Well, one would suspect the best time to kidnap Tara would be when you least paid attention, as it were.” His embarrassment lifted with his new train of thought. “One could come up with thousands of other, less intricate instances when Tara would have been vulnerable...” He slowly pushed his glasses back up his nose. “Why then did, who ever this was, choose that particular time to take her? It doesn’t make much sense, I’m afraid.”
A worried frown crept across Willow’s face, she didn’t understand either. There were plenty of times when she and Tara were apart. School, for instance… they didn’t have many classes together, having chosen very different majors. And, again, times when either Tara or herself would get home hours before the other. Or, when Tara would go out to her two day a week job at the small art gallery downtown. It was all so confusing.
“Okay, lets just regroup, and look at all the facts and things that don’t add up.” She was in full investigation mode, reaching for a pad and pens she’d brought to the table on her way back from the bathroom. “One,” she said aloud, with a pause as she was writing the word down in blue, “Why Tara?” She looked up at the watcher then, “I mean, she’s not exactly Ms. Dangerous you know?” Finding nothing to say, Giles could only give a small reassuring smile that didn’t quite make it to his eyes. With a shaky sigh, Willow continued, “Two, why at that particular time? Why not take her when she’s at school, coming out of class… or on her way to work on the weekends?” Giles shook his head, and tipped it upwards, letting Willow know she should continue further. “Okay, so we know they took her at night. Probably someone with magical skills since she wasn’t able to fight back or say anything…” the last word was strangled in her throat, “they just bound her magicks and-and ripped her away fr-”
“Willow,” Giles whispered, laying a hand over the witch’s trembling one, “Are you sure you’re up to this?” She looked at him through watery, dull green eyes. Clearing her throat, she gave one sharp nod. She had to do something. “Right then, shall we continue?”
“I don’t know what else Giles… I mean, we don’t have much to go on.”
Something didn’t seem right. Giles shook his head, he too was feeling as though they were missing something. “Was anything in the room out of place or any sign of a struggle?”
Willow shook her head, and wrote it down in purple. “The only thing that was different was the window being open.”
“Hmm.” Giles hummed.
“Hmm.” Willow replied.
This was going to be a long night.
***
“So, is the stuff ready yet?” Thomas was growing impatient. The pretty little thing smelled like lilacs, jasmine, vanilla and terror. He could just taste the sweetness in her blood, tinged with the tang of her fear. He swallowed audibly –
just like the blood of Christ, he thought,
except that was just cheap wine.Evandor walked towards the table in the middle of the makeshift room, and deposited a plastic bag full of herbs. “Almost ready, Padre. The warlock said we needed this potion for it to work, you know that.” He said to his childe, a reproachful tone to his voice. “You know she needs to be calm and relaxed for us to do the spell. For a witch, having her powers bound is like having a cross two inches from your face.” He chuckled lightly, “she’s anything but calm right now.”
Thomas laughed and walked towards Tara who was still cowering in the corner. “Yeah, I can smell her Evan. She smells so…” He reached out quickly, grasping the blanket in his fist and yanked on it sharply. The blanket ripped partly before tugging Tara into a twirl. She shrieked as her body was flung forward in a spiral, the blanket flying through the air. She landed with a painful
thump at the vampire’s feet – naked, shaking and embarrassed – much to Thomas’ delight. “She smells like a choir boy…” He crouched to be eye-to-eye with his snack-to-be, and whispered, “who was asked to stay late
again.” A sinister grin tugged at his lips when he noticed the fear in the girl’s eyes. He demurred at what he saw next, deep in the pools of blue. Defiance. Anger. Righteousness.
“Stop playing with your food, and come help me.”
*******
Part 3
*******
Buffy walked into Willy’s bar, a determined grace in her every step. As usual, the clientele quieted. Most averted their gaze, not wanting to be noticed. Others, the more rebellious of the bunch, stared as she made her way over to Willy. The bar tender noticed the change in the atmosphere before seeing the tiny blonde reach the bar. Too late to run away, he just clutched his towel, resigned to the inevitable. “What is it this time, Slayer? I don’t know anything.”
Buffy put on her most innocent smile. “Now, Willy. Didn’t you go to school? Don’t you know it’s bad luck to answer a question before you know what it is?” He fidgeted, and motioned her towards a more private spot. She followed quietly, knowing that she would need to put on some kind of show for him to live through the night. He was a valuable snitch after all.
When they reached the other corner of the bar, she reached over and grabbed his shirt. Yanking him halfway across the bar, she punched him sharply in the nose. “Ow! Why’d you do that for!” He bellowed, covering his bleeding nose with the towel he still held.
“A friend of mine is missing; a witch. You’re going to tell me what happened to her.” When he started shaking his head, about to say he didn’t know anything, she reached across the bar and grasped his shirt again. She stared into his eyes, a promise of pain in hers.
“Okay, okay!” He hissed, “A witch? Which witch? The redhead?” The lighting from behind him shimmered across his glossy head, and she couldn’t hold back the look of disgust as she asked herself, for the hundredth time, what in the world he could possibly be using in his hair. It sure didn’t smell like gel. “It doesn’t matter which one it is,” she tightened her grip around his shirt, “who do you know would need a witch?”
He looked nervously from left to right, making sure no one was listening in on their conversation. “There were these guys… vampires,” Buffy shook her head,
vampires… figures, She thought. “Go on.”
He swallowed and continued, “They came in here two nights ago, talking about some crystal they needed for a ritual. Somethin’ about plungin’ the city in darkness, or somethin’.” Buffy’s eyes grew wide at that, but she still didn’t know what that had to do with Tara. “What does that have to do with them needing a witch?” she pulled on his shirt, twisting her fist so the material would strain against his chest.
He winced as the few hairs on his chest were painfully pulled taught. “They-they said something about a witch having the crystal. Something about one of the Slayer’s people.” That got Buffy’s attention. She asked, “Anything else?”
A crystal? Which crystal!? Willow and Tara have hundreds… She was trying to figure out the logistics of having to go through all of her friends’ witchy paraphernalia, when Willy started talking again. “Yeah, they said something about ancestry, about it being the only one they could get because it was so old. But that’s all I know, I swear!”
She looked him in the eye, and decided he was telling the truth. She needed to get to Willow and Giles as soon as possible. She cocked her free arm back, and slapped him across the face with a resounding smack! The blow was meant to make more noise than to inflict pain. It still stung though, proven by the bar tender’s “Ow!”
Buffy let go of his shirt, and with a satisfied smile, said in a perky voice, “Thanks Willy!” before walking quickly out of the bar.
She was definitely onto something.
***
Willow’s head was resting against the cool surface of the research table. They had been talking about last night for what seemed like hours now, reducing its subject matter to a more clinical, descriptive dialogue. Both of them decided that the levitation had something to do with the reason why someone would chose that particular time to kidnap Tara.
But why?
“This is useless. If levitation is random, there’s no way to make sure that this was a calculated attack!”
Thinking back to the night before, Willow could remember every detail, and her heart ached. She could remember how Tara had approached her, wrapping her arms around Willow’s tiny waist. She whispered soft little nothings in the redhead’s ear, knowing that it didn’t matter what she said. It was the tone of her voice, the honey-filled low huskiness of Tara’s voice that turned Willow’s knees to butter. The way she’d felt her lover’s soft hands whisper up her thighs; her warm breath across her stomach. Willow felt a shiver run up her spine as another memory flashed through her mind.
Yes… God, I should have known!“Giles! It wasn’t like other times!” She snapped her head off the table, a wide grin crossing her face. Her hands started fluttering through the air in front of her as she was trying to find the words, and get the Watcher’s attention.
“What do you mean, Willow?” Seeing the excitement on the witch’s face sent relief through his veins. Willow turned her body towards him, taking in a big gulp of air before explaining. “Usually, when I levitate… it feels like Tara’s holding me. L-like she’s hugging me a-and there’s nothing but her. I-I can feel her all around me, and in me.” At that, her cheeks flushed, but she ploughed on. “But, last night it didn’t feel like that.” Eyes wide, she looked at Giles, an expectant look on her face. She’d figured it out, surely he got it too.
“Go on…” Apparently, he hadn’t. She sighed, “Giles, it wasn’t like other times. I-it wasn’t… the
experience that made me levitate. I-it was something else… or, maybe even
someone else!” Her hands spread the air in front of her, as if the meaning of what she said would appear in the space between them.
Giles whipped his glasses off his face. “Of course! Whoever took Tara made sure you wouldn’t notice by making you levitate. Something that happens on occasion, enough for you not to think it out of the ordinary. So, it wouldn’t alert you to what was happening!” His excited expression darkened as another realisation struck him. “That must also mean that whoever is behind this has been monitoring you; watching you for some time.”
Willow felt her stomach churn.
Eew! Those perverts! Then again, whoever would take Tara away wouldn’t be upstanding citizen material. She sighed, and heard Giles make a noise between a grunt and a hum. “What is it?” she asked, wondering if he’d thought of something else that could disturb her even more.
“If you could remember the last time, last night excluded of course, that either you or Tara have levitated during… well, yes… levitated, we could reasonably determine a vague timeframe in which this person might have been planning the kidnapping.” He looked towards Willow, expectant.
She glanced at the ceiling, as if it held the key to the compartment in her brain where that memory might be stored. After a few moments, she looked at Giles and said, “I think it was a week ago… yeah, I remember because we’d killed that J’ehfro demon that night. We got home covered in goo, and decided to take a shower…” Realising she might be over sharing, she quickly amended. “Uh… a week ago.”
“Right… right.” Giles was too busy adding the data to his mental list to even notice Willow’s blush. “So, there is reason to believe that they might have been studying you for a week.” He quickly realised something, and asked “Is there a window in the bathroom, through which someone might be able to see?” After noticing the stunned look on Willow’s face, he added “Because if this levitation happened in the shower, they would have needed to be able—“
“No, Giles. It wasn’t in the shower… In the bedroom. There’s a window there, and it being on the second floor…” She blushed for what felt like the thousandth time that night, “we don’t usually mind the curtains. So, yeah… a week of Tom peeping.”
Stupid curtains.*******
Part 4
*******
The door to Spike’s crypt swung open, sending a draft of air and sunlight through the small space. Xander and Anya walked in, looking for the resident vampire. When they didn’t see him on the upper level of the crypt, they walked further in as Xander called “Hey, bleach brain! We have to talk to you.” Anya slapped him across the arm, hissing “Xander! We want his services. You’ve told me a hundred times that if I want something from someone, I should be polite and ask nicely.” Xander turned to his girlfriend, “Ahn, that’s with regular people. They have feelings we actually care about. This is Spike. An undead, leashed, rabid dog.”
“Well, if it’s not the whelp and his lunch special.” Spike stepped onto the top level, having ascended the ladder from bellow. “What do you want, and why do you think I’d give it to you?” He threw himself into his lazy-boy, draping one leg over an armrest. Flicking open his precious Zippo lighter, he lit the cigarette that was perched precariously between his lips. “And make it quick,” he said through an exhale of smoke, “Passions is about to come on.”
Xander’s patience for the bleached vampire had always been very short. He didn’t appreciate having to keep company with a soulless, evil creature. But, he had to admit, Spike had come in very handy in the past. Besides, surely he could keep his anger in check to help Tara?
“Come on, monkey boy. I haven’t got all day.” Or maybe not. At Spike’s taunting remark, Xander stormed forward and grabbed the vampire’s shirt. Pulling him out of the chair, he hissed “Tara’s missing. She was kidnapped last night. Do you know anything about it?” His dark eyes piercing into Spike’s blue ones. A nasty grin spread across the vampire’s face, his tongue lightly grazing the tip of a canine. “So Glinda’s gone missing… bet that got Red’s knickers in a twist.” He chuckled softly.
Before Xander could say a word, he heard his girlfriend speak. “Actually, Willow wasn’t wearing any panties at the time of the kidnapping.” Anya gave helpfully. Xander’s eyes bulged before he twisted his head towards the ex-demon. “Anya!” Is all he could muster. At Spike’s laughter, he turned back to look at the vampire still in his grasp. “Shut up!”
Spike swept the offensive hands off of himself, wincing at the warning zap of the chip in his head. “Listen, I don’t know a bloody thing about the witch, okay?” He brought the cigarette back to his mouth, pulled hard on it, and blew the smoke into Xander’s face with a smirk. “Besides, I wouldn’t tell you if I did.” Xander’s face hardened, his jaw muscles clamping. “Not without getting something for my troubles, anyway. A vampire’s gotta keep up the lifestyle you know.” He twitched his eyebrow, and glanced in Anya’s direction. She shuffled her feet uncomfortably, a blush gracing her cheeks.
Still got it, he mused, proud of himself.
“Right, you want money as usual,” the carpenter spat, “before you get anything, I need to make sure you know something.” He leaned into the vampire, his deep brown eyes boring into blue ones, “Make it good.”
“I know somethin’ good about your precious Glenda, Red’s bird. Somethin’ that might be useful. Plus,” he grinned, “I know a couple o’ blokes who’ve been askin’ ‘round for a witch. For the right amount of cash, and stock of AB, might know where they shack up for the night.” He winked then, and slithered away from Xander before popping another cigarette in his mouth. “Three hundred for the info,” he glanced down at the television before growling, “bugger! Make that four, you made me miss the beginning of Passions!”
***
TBC…
Please feedback!!! I wanna know if I'm pissing some kittens off. ;)
Edited on Sept. 9th to change the rating from R to NC17. ;)
Edited by: CopperAndGold at: 9/9/04 2:17 am