No Place Like It (AU)

[fluffylamb]

Title-No Place Like It

Author-fluffylamb A.K.A Kerry

Rating-PG13 at its absolute friskiness

Disclaimer-I am borrowing little boy Joss Whedon's creations for a while. I am also borrowing the land and characters of L. Frank Baum, a storyteller whose tales has been enchanting half a dozen generations of children. I think Ted Turner and Warner Brothers can come after me now. As long as nobody sends me any money for this, things should be good from a legal standpoint.

Feedback-Yes please, but be nice; it's my first fic. If you're mean to me, I'll key your car.

Summary-Willow meets a friend

Notes-Thanks to the readers and to Rocci, beta reader extraordinaire. Thanks also to Artemis (Chris) for all the wonderful AU/uber fics that there what got me thinking about putting the BtVS characters into this particular world.



Chapter 2-The Scarecrow



Willow followed the yellow brick road out of the Munchkin city. She was still trying to wrap her brain around the sudden twist in her life. Past the outskirts of town were the fields of the Munchkin farmers. Several of them called out Willow’s name and waved to her. She returned the waves thinking, Wow, news spreads fast out here.



Soon she found herself passing through a vast cornfield. The tall stalks rows like green walls on either side of the road. The only sound she heard were her own footfalls, the relentless whispering of the wind against the corn and the occasional cry of a crow. She was certainly glad of Miss Kitty’s company, for she felt very small and alone. It was not longer before she heard a distressed voice ahead of her. Being unfamiliar with this land, she approached cautiously. In the sky above the field, a murder of crows circled and dove at a flailing figure amid the corn stalks.



“Shoo! Go away! Get lost! Leave me alone!” wailed the birds’ helpless victim.



Despite the Good Witch’s warning not to stray from the path, Willow walked into the corn and entered a small clearing in the field. Upon Willow’s approach, the crows took flight. She could now see that it was a scarecrow that they were attacking. He was held high off the ground by a pole caught on the back of his shirt. He did not yet see Willow who was staring at him with eyes wide with wonder.



“That’s right you little monsters, fly away!” he shouted at the retreating birds. “Better not come back or you’ll get a whole mess of the same! Ha, ha!” He turned his head and saw Willow. “Hello,” he chirped.



Willow still stood gaping at the talking scarecrow.



“Um,” he said, “Can you talk?”



Shaking her head to clear it, she answered, “Of course, I can talk. I’m very good at talking, well at least in terms of sheer number of words that I speak, but if it’s making sense all the time, well then, I might come up a little bit short there.”



The Scarecrow tried to decipher the strange girl’s answer for a moment and then gave up. At least he knew she could talk. “Well,” he said, “I seem to have come up a little bit tall here. Can you get me down? There a stick over there that the farmer used to hang me on this nail.”



Willow looked where the Scarecrow pointed and saw the stick. She used it to poke at the bit of shirt caught of the nail until at last the scarecrow came free. He fell in a heap at her feet, picked himself up and prompted fell down again. When he rose the second time, Willow grabbed his arms to steady him. “Are you alright?” she asked with concern. “That was quite a fall.”



The Scarecrow slowly moved away from Willow, with one hand on her arm until he was sure that his feet would support him. “I’m fine. A fall like that is nothing. My whole body is stuffed with straw, my arms legs, even my head. I cannot be hurt. Thank you for getting me down. Who are you and what brings you here?”



“My name is Willow and I’m on my way to the Emerald City to see the Wizard. I’m hoping that he’ll know a way to get me back to Sunnydale. What is your name?”



“My name? My name is. . .I don’t have a name,” the Scarecrow frowned and scratched at the dark curly straw on his head.



“No name?” asked in surprise.



“I don’t think so. In fact, I don’t think at all. Can’t.” He pointed to his head. “No brain,” he explained with a goofy grin.



“Oh, well, maybe you could come with me to the Emerald City and ask the wizard if he can give you a brain. I’d like to have company on my trip,” the redhead added.



“The Emerald City? To get a brain? Alright. It’s better than being stuck up on some pole like some farmer’s butt monkey. To the Emerald City we go. Where is the Emerald City?”



Willow’s face fell a bit, “You don’t know the way?”



“No. I’ve been hanging in that field my whole life. I don’t know anything about anything except corn and crows.”



“Your whole life?” Willow couldn’t imagine being trapped in one place for her whole life.



“Yup, ever since yesterday,” sighing sadly at his own plight.



“Yesterday? You’ve been up there since yesterday? Yesterday and today are your whole life?”



The Scarecrow nodded, “The farmer put me together in the morning and put me in that field at lunchtime.” He saw the less than sympathetic look he was receiving from the girl. “Hey! Just hanging around with nothing to do but fend off crows makes for a very long day.”



“I guess. Come on, let’s go.” They pushed through the cornstalks and returned to the yellow brick road. Together, Willow, the Scarecrow and Miss Kitty continued down the road to the Emerald City.

"In fluent aphasia the subject talks at great length, but are unaware that what they are saying makes no sense."
Art said, "I know a lot of people with that problem." -Kim Stanley Robinson's Blue Mars

Edited by: fluffylamb at: 10/27/03 3:20 pm

[Arwen276]

Yes freakish is kinda good!

I love the wizard of oz-iness!

but it's too lonely without a Tara...

umm The scarecrow reminds me of Xander in a way.





~Arwen

Hear That Baby? You're My Always... Willow

[Spot]

Hey! great update, got me hooked. Poor Willow though, I could smack her parents. And don't worry abou tthe no smut, although about 10 different kittens beat me in saying that. A story without it can easily be as good as one with it



I am VERY dull (see subject) I read the first update i saw (i must have been away for a while, sry) and then the first page ended. Being half-asleep, I assumed that was all that was posted so far and replied to your update about 3 chapters ago, not getting that there was a whole second page with 2 more updates. *smacks forehead* anyway, very good updates (and i know what i'm talking, or um, typing about this time). Love the idea. So cute. cant wait for more!

-michelle



*instead of double posting, edit your first post and add anything new to that one.

Edited by: Warduke at: 10/24/03 10:41 pm

[Grimlock72]

Heh... well fluffylamb you got an advantage here, I've never read the story this is based on. Probably has to with me being from the Netherlands since I guess it's mandatory reading-stuff in the USA :-) Anyway, as such much of this story I'll read as being original.. and probably praise you for it



I hope the scarecrow-person makes Willow feel less lonely, I don't want her to feel sad or lonely. She had enough of those feelings, she's a bit short on the happy side of feelings. Fun when Willow stated that she can talk, boy can she ever...



Good thing that the scarecrow was attached TO the pole, as opposed to put on top of it. The latter would make for painfull walking : -->



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

[FlyingPoppy]

This is cheering me up, thank you

I'm having fun figuring out who is going to be who. I think we have a prime candidate for Margaret Hamilton's role...

but where is Tara going to fit in??

Life can suck, but at least there's chocolate - Cicca

[snuggle79]

Interesting scarecrow..i like it!

Great update!

snuggle79

This is how everyday should end and start ..and all the stuff in the middle

The greatest thing you'll learn, is just to love and be loved in return.

Edited by: snuggle79 at: 10/24/03 2:25 am

[sam darls]

Ooh, great update..it made me smile. Loved it!!. Love sammi xx

[Draco119]

I love this fic. The Wizard of Oz was one of my favorite movies when I was a kid so it's really cool to have the Scoobies take up the roles of the characters.



Willow, Miss Kitty and the scarecrow. You gotta love that!



I when the scarecrow said that he didn't want to be any "farmers butt monkey." Hmmm...butt monkey, that sounds oddly familiar.



Anyway, keep up the great work. I can't wait until they meet the Tin Man.

[fluffylamb]

editted because the chapter posted twice.

"In fluent aphasia the subject talks at great length, but are unaware that what they are saying makes no sense."
Art said, "I know a lot of people with that problem." -Kim Stanley Robinson's Blue Mars

Edited by: fluffylamb at: 10/27/03 3:18 pm

[fluffylamb]

Well I figured I'd take a few minutes while my vile broccoli is steaming to deliver comments and thanks to those who left feedback. I have to give the next chapter one last edit (probably while I'm eating the above mentioned vile broccoli) and I should have chapter 3 up later tonight.



Arwen-I know it’s lonely without Tara, but don’t worry we’ll be meeting her shortly. I was going for the Xander-Scarecrow resemblance, so I’m glad to see I didn’t totally miss the mark. Since I’m not using a lot of Scooby names other than Willow’s, I have to depend on characterizations.



Spot-You are not dull; you were simply delaying your own gratification. Yeah, that’s it, just spreading it out. You’ll have to get in line for your swing at Willow’s parents. I’m glad I’ve got you hooked and I hope you continue to enjoy the story.



Grimmy-The Wizard of Oz is an American classic, or at least the movie is. I don’t think a lot of people have read the book. Most of the brilliance here is Frank Baum's, the author of the classic tale. Willow has a way to go and a few more friends to meet, but I think she likes having the Scarecrow with her, even if he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed. And, yes, the Scarecrow could have been in a world of hurt had he been planting on top of that pole. Ouch.



Flyingpoppy-I live to cheer people, except for those who I live to torment. There are actually quite a lot of those, but none on the Kittenboard. I think there’s a prime candidate for that role, too. No guessing, though. You’ll see soon where Tara fits and I hope that you find it appropriate.



Snuggle 79-He’s interesting in a totally mindless, but well-meaning way, I think.



Draco119- It was one of my favorites, too. Every time I watch it, the wonder and delight is still fresh. If I’m doing my job right, things should sound familiar. Your wait for the next companion will not be long.

"In fluent aphasia the subject talks at great length, but are unaware that what they are saying makes no sense."
Art said, "I know a lot of people with that problem." -Kim Stanley Robinson's Blue Mars

[fluffylamb]

Title-No Place Like It

Author-fluffylamb A.K.A Kerry

Rating-PG13 at its absolute friskiness

Disclaimer-I am borrowing little boy Joss Whedon's creations for a while. I am also borrowing the land and characters of L. Frank Baum, a storyteller whose tales has been enchanting half a dozen generations of children. I think Ted Turner and Warner Brothers can come after me now. As long as nobody sends me any money for this, things should be good from a legal standpoint.

Feedback-Yes please, but be nice; it's my first fic. If you're mean to me, I'll key your car.

Summary-Willow starts a new adventure

Notes-Thanks to the readers and, of course, to Rocci, my beta



Chapter 3-The Woodcutter



The walk through the corn passed with companionable chatter between Willow and the Scarecrow. It was a fascinating experience for both of them. The Scarecrow hung on Willow’s every word, transfixed by her descriptions of her life in Sunnydale. For Willow, it was somewhat frustrating to have to define more than half the words she used. Conversation with someone as brainless as the Scarecrow was taxing but she found his child-like personality endearing.



The sun had not reached its peak in the sky when the cornfield through which Willow, the Scarecrow and Miss Kitty had been walking ended and the yellow brick road led the travelers into a pleasant forest. The trees were widely spaced and the sun shone through the leafy canopy to warm the fresh air. A little way into the trees, the companions passed a small cottage, which looked like it had not been occupied in quite a while. The part of the roof had collapsed and the window shutters hung loosely on their hinges. Seeing no sign of any occupants, they continued down the road. Not fifteen minutes after they passed the ruined cottage, they heard a soft whimpering moan coming from the woods.



“What’s that?” cried the Scarecrow, “It’s not one of those vampires that you talked about, is it?”



“No, I don’t think so. It’s too sunny in here. They’d just go poof,” the redhead reassured. “Keep your eyes out.”



The Scarecrow looked at her strangely, and then said, “I don’t know about yours, but my eyes don’t come out.”



“It’s a figure of speech. It means to keep your eyes open and pay attention,” Willow told him, trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice. I’m glad I didn’t say ‘Keep your eyes peeled.’ Who knows what he’d have done.



Willow caught a glimpse of something shining between the tree trunks ahead. Carefully rounding the bend of the road, Willow was astonished to see a motionless figure made entirely of silvery metal standing just off the path among the trees. It held an axe in its raised hands and at its feet was a pile of short, sharp bits of wood, which it had obviously been cutting. Its sad gaze was fixed straight ahead. Willow and the Scarecrow approached the figure while an uninterested Miss Kitty curled up for a nap in the middle of the road. Willow stepped close to the frozen figure and reached her hand out to touch its hinged jaw. Just before her fingertips touch the metal face, the eyes unexpectedly shifted toward her and the figure let out a moan. The sudden noise and movement startled the girl, who stepped back quickly. Unfortunately, the Scarecrow had moved right behind Willow and she tripped over him, sending them both tumbling to the ground.



The Scarecrow rose and offered his hand to Willow to help her stand. She again approached the Woodcutter as it continued to moan softly.



“You can talk, but you can’t talk, I mean you’re supposed to be able talk, aren’t you?” Willow asked. “Why can’t you move?” Touching her hand to the metal surface of the woodcutter’s arm, she detected a slight dampness. She looked closer at the discoloration at the elbow joint of the raised limb.



“Oh, you’ve rusted! You’re all rusted shut, or still, or something.” she concluded. “But what can we do? A can of WD-40 isn’t part of my standard gear, but oh, I bet it is for you because, duh, that’s like essential stuff if you’re made of metal.”



Willow watched as the Woodcutter’s eyes turned and fixed intently on a point beyond Willow’s shoulder. The girl followed the stare to a stump on which rested an oilcan. Retrieving the oilcan, Willow first oiled the Woodcutter’s elbows and shoulders. The Woodcutter lowered the axe, but could not release it until Willow oiled the tarnished wrists and fingers. With newly freed hands, the Woodcutter took the oilcan from the redhead who stood back and watched in fascination as the Woodcutter oiled all the rusted joints, starting at the neck and working down. Finally, the Woodcutter oiled both sides of the jaw hinges.



With hands on slim hips, the Woodcutter asked in a distinctly feminine voice, “Do you have any idea how hard it was to stand there for that long without being able to talk?”



Willow took off her backpack and sat down on the stump where the oilcan once rested before asking, “What happened? How long were you there?”



The Woodcutter flexed the loosening joints of her body and answered, “I’m not sure exactly. About a year? I was caught in a sudden rainstorm. I rusted solid midswing.”



“But your oilcan was right there. Couldn’t you have, you know, lubed up?”



“Nice phrasing there, uh, what’s your name?”



“I’m Willow and this is the Scarecrow.”



“Hi,” the Scarecrow waved. “Oh, you dropped this,” he said, handing the Woodcutter her axe.



“Hi, thanks. So, anyway, let’s just say it wasn’t the best time for me. It was just after. . .no, let me start at the beginning.”



Sensing a lengthy tale, Willow pulled out the sandwich and banana she had packed in her bag for school. It wasn’t quite noon yet, but she was eating that banana, lunchtime be damned! She started eating while the Woodcutter spoke.



“I am a Woodcutter and I live in this part of the forest. Many of the Munchkins that live outside of the city get their wood from me. I get news from them and from other travelers who pass through on the yellow brick road. One day last winter, actually two winters ago if you count the one where I was stuck out here, a brooding young man was traveling cross-country through the woods during a snowstorm when he found my home. I probably shouldn’t have invited him in, but it was best for him that I did because the storm got worse and worse. He had suffered in the forest from the cold and hunger. Although I don’t eat, I keep food on hand for travelers in need. The storm ended, but the young man stayed while he regained his strength. Although he and I were only together for a short time, I knew that I had fallen in love with him. Soon he was strong enough to continue and he left. When he did, he took my heart with him. Since that day, I have been hollow, unable to love,” the Woodcutter finished for a forlorn, self-pitying sigh.



“That’s really sad. Aren’t there others like you? Other woodcutters?”



“No, I am the one woodcutter in all the world. I stand alone against the overgrowth.”



“That still doesn’t explain the rainstorm and the not oiling,” Willow said.



“Oh. Well, after the brooding young man left, I didn’t have the heart for anything: my work, taking care of my house, taking care of myself even. I carried the oilcan out of habit, but when the rain started, I just didn’t care.”



“Wow. I’m glad we came along, then, because you shouldn’t be alone when you’re all hurty like that. The Scarecrow and I are going to the Emerald City to see the Wizard.”



“Yeah! I’m going to ask him for a brain!” the Scarecrow nodded brightly.



“And I’m hoping that he knows the way to get back to Sunnydale.”



“Do you think that the Wizard could give be a new heart if I asked?” the Woodcutter asked hopefully. “And I can help get you safely through the forest. It grows darker as the road passes through the western part of the woods.”



“You can ask him, sure. We’d be glad to have you with us.”



Willow was pleased with the new addition to the group. It was good to have another companion and Woodcutter seemed more knowledgeable than the Scarecrow. As Willow tossed the banana peel into the bushes and packed away the remaining half of her PB&J, she realized, “Oh my God! It’s got to be lunchtime! I’ve missed half a day of school!” Her stomach did a sickening roll and the redhead was glad she was already sitting.



“Missing school?” asked the Woodcutter, “So?”



“She likes school,” the Scarecrow whispered to the puzzled Woodcutter.



“Likes school?” The Woodcutter shrugged and turned to the redhead. “I guess we all have our thing. At least yours isn’t hopelessly unsuitable and incompatible men.”



“Nope,” Willow agreed, “Unsuitable men definitely not my thing. We ready?” She picked up the Woodcutter’s oilcan, capped it and stowed it in her bag. She also collected a few of the pointed wood shards from the ground and added them to her backpack. Sunnydale habits die hard.



With that, Willow, the Scarecrow and the Woodcutter returned to the yellow brick road to collect Miss Kitty and continue the journey to the Emerald City.

"In fluent aphasia the subject talks at great length, but are unaware that what they are saying makes no sense."
Art said, "I know a lot of people with that problem." -Kim Stanley Robinson's Blue Mars

[FlyingPoppy]

Quote:

---

No, I am the one woodcutter in all the world. I stand alone against the overgrowth.

---

If I had been drinking when I read that line it would've ended up all over my keyboard and up my nose. You actually made me guffaw. Seriously. Again I have to thank you for improving my non too cheery mood.



I like your Willow dialogue, when I read it I hear her voice, I don't often do that.



So, I'll soon see where Tara fits eh? That can only mean......

Life can suck, but at least there's chocolate - Cicca

[Grimlock72]

Heh, as soon as a brooding figure was mentioned I figured the woodcutters name should be Buffy . Willow didn't tell her that the evil witch got smashed, wonder if she'll care.



I can see Willow as the kind of girl going through such an adventure. The scarecrow at least has a REASON why he knows so little, thats more than Xander ever had, heh : --> . Loved the self-commentary of the woodcutter, so much insight, heh :-)



Willow missed school... does she ever wonder WHY that bothers her so much ? Eventually she'll realize that her parents won't show affection whatever grades she gets. They will LIKE her good grades sure, but I think they don't understand how to love a child... money won't do it. Willow needs parents who will love her first and look at her grades AFTER that. Sure Willow likes school, but is that just to please her parents into liking her ??



Yeah I wonder about such things



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

[sam darls]

Hehe..I loved this part...and of course the confusion wouldn't put me off the story- I love it...Beautiful. Love sammi xx

[fluffylamb]

Happy Halloween all. I need to do a little editing, then I can post my Halloween treat.



Poppy-Yay, I earned a guffaw. I’m glad that you were beverage-free, because nose spraying can be painful, embarassing and tough on the hardware. I like writing Willow’s dialogue. It just snowballs sometimes. I hope you like the next part. Yup, it means we finally meet you-know-who, smartypants.



Grimmy-There really is no excuse for Xander, is there? There’s little backstory about the Tinman in the movie, but in the book, his is actually a tragic love story not unlike Buffy’s.



I don’t think Willow likes school simply to earn her parents’ approval. It’s the one venue where she shines, at least up to that point in her life. I wonder if her teachers’ approval is somehow a substitution for her parents’ love. Hmmm.



Sam Darls-Hey Sammi. I never should have doubted you. Shame on me. I’m glad that you’re still enjoying the story.

"In fluent aphasia the subject talks at great length, but are unaware that what they are saying makes no sense."
Art said, "I know a lot of people with that problem." -Kim Stanley Robinson's Blue Mars

[fluffylamb]

Title-No Place Like It

Author-fluffylamb A.K.A Kerry

Rating-PG13 at its absolute friskiness

Disclaimer-I am borrowing little boy Joss Whedon's creations for a while. I am also borrowing the land and characters of L. Frank Baum, a storyteller whose tales has been enchanting half a dozen generations of children. I think Ted Turner and Warner Brothers can come after me now. As long as nobody sends me any money for this, things should be good from a legal standpoint.

Feedback-Yes please, but be nice; it's my first fic. If you're mean to me, I'll key your car.

Summary-Willow starts a new adventure

Notes-Thanks to the readers and to Rocci my beta reader. Sorry to all for taking so long to get Tara back into the story. Enjoy.



Chapter 4-The Lion



The forest darkened as Willow, the Scarecrow and the Woodcutter continued down the road to the Emerald City. The trees grew closer together and seemed to menace the companions as they passed. Unseen animals cried out and crashed through the brush. The ominous atmosphere of the woods quickly dampened any small talk between the travelers. Miss Kitty walked so close to their feet she threatened to trip them. Willow, who had never before ventured into a wilderness like this, grew afraid.



“I don’t like this part of the forest. It’s all dark and shadowy,” she admitted in a small and trembling voice.



“Don’t worry, Willow,” replied the Woodcutter, extending her arm to the young girl, who placed her hand through the offered arm and walked closer to her friend. “I’ll keep you safe.”



“Yeah, we’ll protect you, Wills,” agreed the Scarecrow, right before he tangled his feet together and fell flat on his face.



Willow and the Woodcutter stopped to allow the Scarecrow right himself. “Sure, if anything comes after us, I can chase it off with my axe, and Scarecrow can. . .Scarecrow can fall on it,” the Woodcutter said with bright smile.



The Scarecrow, still brushing himself off, nodded. “Right, I can. . .hey!”



“Come on,” Willow told him with a smile, taking his hand with her free one.



With her two able protectors, well maybe one able protector and one really well intentioned protector, so near, Willow felt a little bit better. They all warily watched the shapes moving through the trees and looked ahead, hoping to glimpse any break in the trees. Despite Willow’s growing hunger and the dull ache in her legs from the walking, they pressed on, not wanting to linger in this oppressive wood.



Miss Kitty was walking a few paces in front of group when she stopped and sniffed the air. Willow watched in concern as her pet ran several yards ahead, toward a spot by the edge of the road, obviously drawn to a scent.



“Miss Kitty, no! Come back here,” she called. The little cat turned and regarded her for a moment, before turning back to peer into the trees. She meowed at whatever she had detected. Without warning the huge form of a lion burst from the trees and lunged at the black and white cat.



Before Willow could even react, the Woodcutter shouted, “Get back, beast!” and ran with a raised axe to intercept the lion. The Scarecrow, too, dashed ahead, intent on keeping Miss Kitty from becoming lion snackage.



The lion cringed at the loud shouts. Whimpering, she glanced sadly at Miss Kitty and backed away from her attackers. Miss Kitty began hissing at the two forms rushing to her rescue.



Willow’s momentary shock passed as she watched the reaction of the lion and Miss Kitty. “Scarecrow, Woodcutter! Stop!”



The Woodcutter skidded to a stop at Willow’s command. The Scarecrow plowed into her back and bounced off. Miss Kitty rubbed her face against the lion’s paw. The lion cowered under the looming axe, but her eyes shifted from the Woodcutter to Willow who had caught up to the group. Willow stepped in front of the Woodcutter, who grasped her arm to pull her back.



“Willow, no. Me with big axe, remember? Me good at cutting things. It’s dangerous. I don’t want see you get hurt,” she pleaded.



Gently brushing the restraining hand aside, Willow said, “No, I don’t think it is.” She turned to the lion, “You weren’t going to hurt Miss Kitty at all, were you?” She knelt in front of the large, trembling animal, looking into pale and soulful blue eyes. “You aren’t going to hurt me.”



“N-no,” replied the lion in a tiny, tiny voice.



Willow jumped slightly in surprise that the lion answered in words. This was indeed a strange land. The redhead’s sudden movement startled the fearful lion, which in turn jumped. Willow stretched her hand toward the shaking animal. The lion flinched away from the raised hand, but otherwise stayed still. Willow held the lion’s gaze as she slowly brought her hand down on the lion’s tawny head. With growing confidence, she stroked the soft fur of the lion’s head and neck. Miss Kitty crawled into the space between Willow’s knees and the lion’s paws and began to purr in contentment.



The Scarecrow and Woodcutter watched the scene unfold with skepticism and disbelief. Despite Willow’s reassurance, the Woodcutter still expected the lion to attack. The Scarecrow just looked confused.



“Um, Willow, what are you doing? I think you should get away from that thing before it starts thinking about how good you might taste.”



“Stop it! She’s a she and lion, not an ‘it’ or a ‘thing’ or a ‘beast.’ She’s not thinking that And. . .and even she if were, I’m safe with her.”



The Scarecrow insisted, “She looks likes the type that would think that.”



Shooting an annoyed glare at the Scarecrow, “What does ‘that type’ look. . . never mind. Don’t answer that. We are so not talking about this.”



The Woodcutter raised her hand, “I second that.”



“Thank you,” Willow said to the Woodcutter, “And put that axe down. Hello, safe now!”



The Lion was silent through the whole exchange, still wondering whether to turn and run. The hand petting her head felt so nice though. When those green eyes turn back to her, she knew that she wouldn’t run.



“It’s OK, sweetie,” the redhead told the Lion, “We aren’t going to hurt you. Why don’t you get up?” Willow stood and the lion sat up.



“I-I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just. . .I haven’t seen any other cats in so long. I was so excited when I saw your little one,” said the Lion. “Is she part of your pride?”



“Miss Kitty? Um, well, she’s like a pet. And there are no other cats? What about other lions? Where is your family?” Willow asked.



“Well, ever since I was little, I w-was with my mom. It was just the two of us. There aren’t many lions east of the Emerald City. My father used to range through this area, but he hasn’t been here for a long time. I don’t know where he is. Mom and I were happy together. I didn’t like to h-hunt. My mom always, you know, got the food for us.”



The Lion’s voice grew sad. “But she got sick a few years ago. I-I-I didn’t know w-what to do. I tried to, you know, take care of her, to h-help her get better. But I couldn’t and she didn’t. Then she was gone.” The Lion’s head drooped and her tears splashed on the yellow bricks. Her shoulders shook as her breath hitched in her chest.



Nothing could keep Willow from slipping her arms around the neck of the grieving Lion to try to ease her pain. “I’m so sorry about your mom. You were alone. What happened?”



“There is a pack of hyenas that lives in the forest and the leader decided that they should take care of me. ‘To keep me safe’ he said, but I know they did it for themselves. They’d never be attacked if they had a lion with them.”



“They used you?” the redhead asked angrily. Willow shuddered, “Hyenas are just unpleasant.”



The Lion nodded, “They said I’d never survive alone, that I’d never be anything without them. I believed them for a long time. I didn’t know w-what else to do. I stay with them for so long, too long. Just a few w-weeks ago, I ran away from them. I needed to know that they were wrong, that I was more than what they wanted me to be. I never really belonged with them. It’s been hard learning to live on my own, but better than living with them.”



“Good, I’m glad you left. You don’t deserve that,” said the still angry redhead.



“I heard you and smelled another cat, I thought that maybe, I don’t know, maybe it was a new pride, so I followed the scent to the road and here we are.”



After hearing the Lion’s story and judging the sincerity of her words, the Woodcutter felt horrible about her earlier actions. The Woodcutter knelt beside the Lion opposite Willow. She placed her silver hand on the Lion’s shoulder. “I’m sorry about before, the axe-thing and all.”



“It’s OK. You saw this big monster lion jump out of the woods at you friend’s little cat. You reacted.”



“You’re not a monster,” Willow said firmly. “You should come with us to the Emerald City.”



“Yes!” cried the Scarecrow. “We are going to see the Wizard. I’m going to ask him for a brain. The Woodcutter is going to ask him for a heart. Willow is going to ask if he knows how she get back to Sunnydale.”



“Really? I can, um. . . can come with you?” Hope shone in her eyes. “I can ask if he know where the other lions are.”



“Of course, you can come with us.” Willow gestured toward Miss Kitty, “I’m not like ‘death to all cats’ or anything.”



With that decided, Willow, the Scarecrow, the Woodcutter and the lion started down the yellow brick road toward the Emerald City.

"In fluent aphasia the subject talks at great length, but are unaware that what they are saying makes no sense."
Art said, "I know a lot of people with that problem." -Kim Stanley Robinson's Blue Mars

[Grimlock72]

Hehe... Hyena's ARE unpleasant indeed... using the poor lion, tsk tsk.. A lion with blue eyes, never heard of that one before . I would guess a lion can smell the difference between a cat and a lion though, unless miss kitty is a baby lion :-). Poor lion didn't have a very nice life after her mom died... at least she ran away from the hyena's on her own.



A lion who doesn't want to kill animals to eat WILL have a tough time surviving. It's not like Willow has enough food to feed a lion. A lion who's vegatarian... hmm... :-) I can easily see Willow getting upset at the hyena's over using the lion, unfair treatment and all.



Story keeps surprising me, which is a good thing



How DOES little Willow hug a big lion ?? Must take some effort, even though this IS a friendly lion.



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

Edited by: Grimlock72 at: 11/2/03 3:02 am

[FlyingPoppy]

Lion's not had an easy life eh? She was very brave to run away from the hyenas, considering she never really had to do anything for herself before. I wonder what finally made her decide to leave?

Lion can't run away from the situation, even though all her instincts are telling her to, because of Willow. I like that you still have that connection between them without it being weird. Which it could be.

You're subtley changing this, it's obviously the same story but at the same time different. Can't wait to see where you take it next

Life can suck, but at least there's chocolate - Cicca

[Spot]

Yay update!

Aww poor Tara, her mom died here too, but at least she found Willow.

Very interesting update, loved it.

cant wait for the next one!

-michelle

"Love is giving someone the ability to destroy you, and trusting them not to."

[fluffylamb]

I'm sorry that I've been slow with the updates. Classes are eating my time like I cannot believe. Thanks to those who took the time to leave feedback. I means a lot to hear what readers have to say. Thanks also to all who are reading. I'm going to post a short bit a little later, after dinner.



Grimmy-Hyenas are indeed unpleasant. You don’t know the half of it. Although Miss Kitty may have the heart of a lion sometimes, she’s just a little house cat. Desperation and loneliness can make you latch onto the slimmest hopes, and I think that’s what the Lion felt when she caught MK’s scent. Yes, her life was very hard after her mom died, but life with the hyenas wasn’t right for our Lion.



No, Willow’s certainly not carrying enough to feed the Lion. It’s going interesting to see what the Lion is going to do about food.



I’m glad that I can keep surprising you, especially in the midst of a familiar tale.



Flyingpoppy-What make her decide to leave? I think she just got to the point where she couldn’t take it anymore, you know? She just had enough. Yeah, I am doing my best to keep the connection there without there being weirdness. Yick.



Spot- Our girls will always find each other. I’m glad you’re enjoying the story.

"In fluent aphasia the subject talks at great length, but are unaware that what they are saying makes no sense."
Art said, "I know a lot of people with that problem." -Kim Stanley Robinson's Blue Mars

[fluffylamb]

Title-No Place Like It

Author-fluffylamb A.K.A Kerry

Rating-PG13 at its absolute friskiness

Disclaimer-I am borrowing little boy Joss Whedon's creations for a while. I am also borrowing the land and characters of L. Frank Baum, a storyteller whose tales has been enchanting half a dozen generations of children. I think Ted Turner and Warner Brothers can come after me now. As long as nobody sends me any money for this, things should be good from a legal standpoint.

Feedback-Yes please, but be nice; it's my first fic. If you're mean to me, I'll key your car.

Summary-Willow starts a new adventure, but meets some old friends

Notes-It’s short, but hopefully sweet enough. Thanks to the readers and to Rocci my beta reader. Enjoy.



The dark forest grew darker still as night fell. Willow was exhausted and even the comfortable silver sneakers failed to dull the ache of a long day of walking.



“Lion, how much farther is the edge of this forest?”



The lion considered the question for a moment. “At this rate, h-half a day. Maybe a little less.”



Willow groaned at the answer, slipped off her backpack and plopped down in the middle of the road. Everybody could see how tired she was. The Lion sat down behind Willow so that the redhead could lean against her.



“What are we going to do, Willow? It’s dark. The Woodcutter and I don’t need to sleep, but you and the Lion need to rest, right?” asked the Scarecrow.



“Sleep. Rest. Complete and total cessation of movement. Mmmmm, yes,” moaned the weary girl. “Is there any where to stay the night, Lion?”



“Not anyplace near the road. I’m sorry.”



“We should stay on the road,” said the Woodcutter. “The Witch of the North said you’ll be safer if you stayed on the road.”



Patting the yellow brick beneath her, she sighed and said, “Well, it’s not exactly five star accommodations, but I can’t walk all night.” She shivered with the cooling of the damp air.



The Woodcutter saw Willow’s shiver. “I can cut some of the dead wood near the road and we can make a fire.”



The Scarecrow panicked. “Fire! No fire! Fire is not of the good. Please, Willow, no fire,” he whined.



Willow pulled several items from her bag and felt around the bottom. She rummaged through the side pockets, too, but her search was fruitless. “I don’t have any matches. Unless you have something to start it, it looks like fire won’t be the order of the day. Or night.”



When Woodcutter shook her head, the Scarecrow did a little dance. The Woodcutter took two deliberate steps away from her jigging companion before asking him, “What was that?”



“It’s the No Fire Happy Dance. No fire! Yay! No fire! Yay!”



He continued to dance while the Woodcutter rolled her eyes at his antics. She picked up the oilcan from the pile near Willow’s bag. Mindful of the moisture in the heavy air, she oiled her joints well before handing it to the redhead who tucked it back in the bag. The Woodcutter reached out and grabbed the Scarecrow by the back of his neck, effectively ending the No Fire Happy Dance.



“You should rest now, Willow. Dancing boy and I will patrol the area to make sure no big bads bother you.”



“You can rest against me, Willow,” offered the lion. “You’ll stay warmer.”



Willow turned to scratch behind the lion’s ears and said, “Thank you.” Willow sat with her back against the lion’s shoulder. Miss Kitty jumped into Willow’s lap. The slow, steady rhythm of lion’s heartbeat was already lulling her tired body. “Goodnight guys,” she said to the Scarecrow and Woodcutter. “Goodnight, my lion. Sleep well.”

"In fluent aphasia the subject talks at great length, but are unaware that what they are saying makes no sense."
Art said, "I know a lot of people with that problem." -Kim Stanley Robinson's Blue Mars

[sam darls]

Ooh, bad me- I missed two updates..but I loved them, they were lovely and just great. Thank you. Love sammi xx

[fluffylamb]

Title-No Place Like It

Author-fluffylamb A.K.A Kerry

Rating-PG13 at its absolute friskiest

Disclaimer-I am borrowing little boy Joss Whedon's creations for a while. I am also borrowing the land and characters of L. Frank Baum, a storyteller whose tales has been enchanting half a dozen generations of children. I think Ted Turner and Warner Brothers can come after me now. As long as nobody sends me any money for this, things should be good from a legal standpoint.

Feedback-Yes please, but be nice; it's my first fic. If you're mean to me, I'll key your car.

Summary-Willow starts a new adventure, but meets some old friends

Notes-Wow, It's been a while. Sorry about that. I got wicked bogged down this semester. Classes are done, though and I am free for a while. I'm glad to have the time to get back into this story. Thanks for reading.

Response to Feedback Bad you, Sammi? Hardly! I'm glad you like the updates.



Chapter 6-New Day



Willow woke with a start. “I can’t fall off the rubber ducky!” Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she realized what was the rise and fall of the waves beneath her rubber ducky was actually the rise and fall of the Lion’s breathing. She also realized that she was receiving three puzzled stares from her companions.



“I, um, I talk in my sleep. Usually it’s pretty weird stuff, but I probably didn’t really need to explain that since I just demonstrated it for you, didn’t I?”



The Scarecrow and Woodcutter looked at each other and simultaneously shrugged their shoulders at her rambling statement, while the Lion’s body shook with quiet laughter.



“And, I babble sometimes, but hey, there’s another thing that needs no explaining, what with the babbling demonstration that followed the sleepy-talk demonstration.”



The Lion laughed even harder, earned her a playful elbow in her side “Hey, none of that. I like Willow-babble,” the Lion insisted.



The jostling of the Lion’s laughter awakened Miss Kitty. The little cat yawned and stretched before jumping off Willow’s lap. Willow stood and twisted her back, trying to loosen the knots in her muscles. Willow acknowledged that the likelihood of finding a public restroom nearby was remarkable slim. She pulled a pack of tissues from her bag and headed toward the woods.



“Where are you going?” asked the Scarecrow.



“I, um. . .I need to, uh. . .I have to. . .powder my nose,” she finished weakly. The Scarecrow and Woodcutter looked confused.



“If you’re going into the woods, one of us should go with you,” the Woodcutter insisted.



“No! Uh, thank you, but powdering one’s nose is a private thing. A very private and alone type thing that I have to go do. Alone.”



The Lion clued in to what the redhead was saying. “Oh, that! Let me just check to make sure there’s nothing dangerous or just unpleasant over there and then I’ll powder my nose on the other side of the road.” The Lion bounded into the woods and came back to the road, pronouncing it all clear for Willow before heading into the woods on the opposite side.



“But she didn’t take any powder,” noted the Scarecrow.



Willow and the Lion returned where the Woodcutter and Scarecrow waiting, still with slightly confused looks on their faces. Now that Willow had taken care of that need, her hunger voiced its presence with a loud rumble, which was echoed by the Lion’s stomach.



“You’re hungry, too, eh? Let me see if I have anything left in my bag.” Willow felt around and pulled out a bottle of water and two silver foil-wrapped packages. “Ah, Pop Tarts: the breakfast of champions.” She tore open one package and pulled out one of the toaster pastries and offered it to the Lion.



The Lion looked doubtfully at the frosted square and asked, “That’s supposed to be food? What is it?”



“It’s an overly processed and nutritionally void pastry with jellyish stuff inside.”



Having not received an answer as to whether Willow’s offering was food, the Lion sat down and stared at Willow expectantly.



“It. . .it’s like sweet bread with mushed up fruit in it,” the girl said, hoping that was sufficient.



The Lion nodded, “Ah, fruit. Fruit’s good.” She took a small bite of the offered pastry to taste it. Both the Woodcutter and the Scarecrow tensed when she suddenly lunged forward and nearly snapped off Willow’s fingers.



“Hey, watch it!”



“I’m sorry! I’m s-so sorry! Did I hurt you?” Tears of remorse and concern for her friend sprang to the Lion’s eyes.



“No. I’m OK. See?” She held out her hand to show that she was unharmed. The Lion licked the outstretched hand once with her sandpapery tongue, then rubbed her head against Willow’s leg in silent apology. The girl laughed and ran her fingers along the fur of the Lion’s neck. “Hey. We’re good. If you promise not to bite me, you can have the other one.”



The Lion raised her head as Willow held out the second Pop Tart. The Lion took the pastry with exaggerated care before tossing in the air and catching it in her mouth.



Willow laughed again and opened the second package. She removed one Pop Tart and returned the remaining one to her bag for later. Breaking off a corner, she knelt to offer the bite to Miss Kitty. The cat sniffed at it, sneezed and turned away disdainfully. Willow shrugged, “Fine, go hungry. Snobby cat.” She turned to see the Lion looking at her with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. “Not that all cats are snobs, of course,” Willow clarified. Jeez, I never knew Lions could smirk.



Willow splashed some of the bottled water on her face and unbraided her sleep-loosened braids. She pulled a brush from her bag and the tangles quickly surrendered to her efforts. After rebraiding her long hair, she tucked the brush back in her bag. Before she could pick up her bag, the Woodcutter grabbed the strap. “I’ll carry it. Extra strength and all.”



Willow accepted the offer, but then teased, “Back home carrying a girl’s books means that you’re going steady with her.”



The Woodcutter paused with the bag halfway to her back, then shrugged and slipped her arms through the straps. “I’m glad we’re not in your world then, because no offense or anything, but girls aren’t really my thing.”



“None taken. Girls really aren’t, um . . .hey, would ya look at the time! We should get going.”



Willow was still nibbling her breakfast as they started walking. The morning air was cool and damp, but the walking soon warmed Willow. About an hour and a half later, they reached the crest of a small hill. Their spirits lifted as they could see the forest thinning ahead of them.



“We’re getting close,” said the Lion, prancing around excitedly, “You can see the Emerald City from the edge of the forest. I’ve seen it before.”



“Really? We’re that close?” asked the Scarecrow.



“What does it look like?” the Woodcutter wanted to know.



Willow was worried about not having enough food. “How far away is it? Can we get there today?”



“W-wow, you guys are making me feel like, you know. . . big knowledge cat. Let me see. We are kinda close, but it’ll be a long day’s walk, maybe even a little bit after sunset, I think until we get there. And what does it look like? It’s like. . .it’s a like mountain with a flat top and steep sides. A mountain that shines like the sun on a lake, but green like the greenest grass there ever was. I’ve only seen it from the edge of the woods when I was a cub. My mom took me a long time ago,” she finished sadly. The tone of the Lion’s stirred a sadness in Willow who rubbed her hand across the Lion’s back.



They pressed on with renewed enthusiasm, the prospect of leaving the dreary forest behind them lightening their steps. As they approached the edge of the woods, the Lion began to feel anxious, sniffing the air and encouraging the others to quicken the pace.



Willow wanted to know what was bothering her friend. “What’s the matter? Is there something out there?”



The Lion couldn’t meet Willow’s questioning gaze. “I. . .um. I-I don’t know, no. I just, uh. . .just w-want to get out h-here, you know, out in the sun and fresh air.”



Shortly before the road led them out from under the trees, several figures stepped out of the brush to block the path. The largest of them walked toward the group. He was an older hyena, a stern and joyless looking beast who fixed his stare on the Lion.



The Lion was stunned. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She got away. She had gotten away from the pack’s taunts and horrible, mocking laughter. No, no, no! They weren’t supposed to come and find her. Her whiskers drooped and she lowered her eyes in submission, saying, “Pack leader, what are y-you doing h-here?”



“What are we doing here? What do you think? You run away. Nobody knows where you are. Nobody hears from you for days. We were worried sick.”



“I-I’m sorry, s-sir. I didn’t mean. . .I should have. . .” the Lion’s voice trailed off.



“We’ve come to bring you home,” pronounced the pack leader.



“I-I. . .I’m not going back with y-you,” came the Lion’s small, but firm reply.



“Lion, you are going to come back with us now.”



Willow’s concern grew as the exchange unfolded. She knelt by the Lion who was now crouched on her belly, “Lion, you don’t want to be with them, do you?”



The Lion shook her head vigorously, unable to squeeze words passed the lump in her throat. Willow stood, squared her shoulders and faced the hyena. “Look, if you want to take my friend back against her will, go ahead.” The hyena nodded smugly while the Lion looked at Willow in wide-eyed shock. The redhead continued, “You just have to go through me.”



The pack leader looked at the skinny little thing before him. “What? I’m not about to stand here and be threatened by some little girl.”



The Woodcutter stepped forward, brandishing her axe, “You’re not just dealing with ‘some little girl.’”



The Scarecrow moved to stand beside the Woodcutter, “Yeah, you’re dealing with all of us.”



The Lion looked at her companions through eyes shining with tears and rose to her feet, but flinched when the pack leader continued.



“I don’t believe this. You have no right to interfere with the Lion’s affairs. We are the Lion’s pack. Who the hell are you?”



Willow looked at her three friends who had grown to mean so much to her so quickly. Willow set her resolve-face against the hyena, “We’re family.”



Sensing defeat, the pack leader shook his head in disappointment. “All these years, your pack has taken care of . . .”



The Lion stood proudly and interrupted, “Pack leader. Just go.”



A young, scruffy hyena slunk next to the first. “Pack leader,” he whined, “You aren’t just going to let them. . .” He turned to the Lion, “Lion, if you don’t get over here, I swear. . .” His words were cut off by Miss Kitty’s loud and vicious hiss. The scruffy hyena looked at the arched, hissing housecat before retreating behind the pack leader. As the pack of hyenas skulked off the road, one animal turned back and shot the Lion a vicious, hateful glare. “Are you happy now?” spat the hyena.



The Lion met Willow’s eyes as a huge grin grew across her furry face.

"In fluent aphasia the subject talks at great length, but are unaware that what they are saying makes no sense."
Art said, "I know a lot of people with that problem." -Kim Stanley Robinson's Blue Mars

[FlyingPoppy]

Oops! I seem to remember a while ago you told me to go read some fic and I said I'd read everything I was keeping up with...obviously I hadn't because I hadn't read the previous update to this one. Sorry. Just slap me or something.



Lion snatching the pop tart reminded me of my dog. She used to snatch very occasionally then when you told her off, or said ouch, take it very gingerly, almost apologetically.



It was nice to see her new friends standing up for her against those nasty old hyenas. I kept thinking of that Whoopi Goldberg hyena from the Lion King, though neither of these hyenas were like her.



You have a knack for making me laugh, thank you!

Life can suck, but at least there's chocolate - Cicca

[Grimlock72]

Actually the Lion being raised (sort of) by a pack of hyena's make more sense compared to TV (although of course the remained of her familly there do qualify for 'hyena' :-). The ending read somewhat familiar, heh... still feeling sad for the lion though.



Yes it has been some time since I've last read this story, somehow I seem to have missed the previous updates as well, weird. This is such a fun story to read, neither Woodcutter nor Scarecrow getting the idea of 'nose powdering' .



Once Lion gets more self-confidence it should be perfectly able to stand up for it's self. That's the advantage of being a strong animal after all .



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