Fic: Alternatives

[NewRuthRising]

Oh, alright. I'll go write it then.



Ruth

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

"He killed her, didn't he?"

"They don't have a word for what he did to her."

The count of three isn't a plan, it's Sesame Street!

[NewRuthRising]

Sorry guys, I can't update for a bit; my drama exam is a week on Monday and one of my group has missed a week of rehearsals so I'm working flat out to catch us up. Once everything's sorted I'll finish the cliffhanger...promise. But just to tide you over, here's a preview.



Tara...



Willow...



Leather...



Mind games...



Fighting...



Suspense...



SEXY WOMEN IN (VERY LITTLE) LEATHER!



I LOVE ELA!



Ruth

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

"He killed her, didn't he?"

"They don't have a word for what he did to her."

The count of three isn't a plan, it's Sesame Street!

[barnabasvamp]

OK...Drama exam comes first, but right after that????



You just had to sneak in here and tease us yet again, didn't ya??

BV

"When choosing between two evils, I always like to take the one I've never tried before"-Mae West

[NewRuthRising]

Yes, yes I did. But I'm back now and working hard. God i missed the internet. A whole week without the kittens. Has anyone read the play Metamorphosis by Steven Berkoff? That 's what we had to do. After all that drama I've almost lost my voice. Argh.



Update soon. Promise.





Ruth

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

"He killed her, didn't he?"

"They don't have a word for what he did to her."

The count of three isn't a plan, it's Sesame Street!

[NewRuthRising]

i am a very bad . Sorry guys but i was dreadfully ill over easter and now i have my exams so it's gonna be a while. Very sorry.





Have some fun smilies to make up for it!



Ruth

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

"He killed her, didn't he?"

"They don't have a word for what he did to her."

The count of three isn't a plan, it's Sesame Street!

[kat1356]

I rarely delurk but I wanted to do so to say that it is much more important for you to take care of yourself then worry about keeping the kittens content. As much as we all love the beautiful fantasy world here on the board, real life takes priority above all else.



Stay well and get through your exams.



I also wanted to say that I am really enjoying this story.



kat

[NewRuthRising]

Alternatives



Chapter 15

Rating: PG13 for violence

Spoilers: All of season 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing but that which I create. All else belongs to people who can sue/excommunicate/execute me if I don’t write this.

Disclaimer #2: I am going to mess about with the ideas of religion in this fic, this is not intended to offend anyone, or contradict anyone’s beliefs, but it’s necessary for the story. I apologise in advance for any offence taken.

Summary: Willow and Tara

Feedback: Send all constructive comments to rmmik@hotmail.com (please put something like “Re: your fic” in the subject, otherwise I’ll bin it). Send all abuse to someone else.

Authors note: This chapter has some fairly disturbing scenes in it, so read at your discretion. I’ll try and include any major plot points later on so you don’t miss anything. Also, ‘Willow and Tara’ largely refers to the older, more evil couple, as do many of the Scoobie references. The main focus is on the older group here, so bear that in mind when reading. Sorry this has been so long coming. Promise to try and update again soon.







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Kel and Faith stood, facing one another, completely motionless. The younger group fidgeted nervously, while their older counterparts simply watched.



“You let my children die,” Faith hissed.



“Yes.” Kel said.



A light breeze began to blow, and Kel tensed. They were indoors.



The older Dawn came over and placed a hand on Faith’s shoulder, her face showing serious fear.



“Faith, listen,” she said. “Now is not the time. They’re coming. Don’t you feel it?”



Willow watched all this in amazement, the hair on the back of her neck standing up. Her eyes had not left her son’s the whole time. She was overwhelmed.



The other Scoobs, however, were just scared. The wind had picked up, and there was a definite tingle to the air.



Dawn whispered again. “They’re coming.”





A huge explosion rocked the shop a second later. In exactly the same place where their older selves had arrived, a cloud of thick smoke bloomed. The older Scoobs immediately formed a defensive pattern, bracing themselves for any attack. The smoke cleared, and there stood…Willow. Tara had a horrible feeling of déjà vu. Her head was bowed slightly so her hair covered her face, her hips cocked, and Tara could feel the arrogant smirk that sat, incongruous to her angelic features, on her mouth.



Willow watched herself, older, thinner and more dangerous, lift her head and take in the assembled crowd. She wore tight black pants that looked to be leather with a loose top that allowed freedom of movement. Her nails were painted a sinister scarlet, her hair was darker than it had been, verging on brown like it had been when she was younger. But it was her eyes that caught attention. They were dark green, almost black, and seemed to swallow you whole, search your soul and spit you out again. She gave a languid smile, exposing perfect teeth that were slightly too sharp, and drawled in a very un-Willow tone,



“Now that wasn’t very nice. Time travelling is against the rules. I’m afraid I had to take a payment. Tara?”



A low growl emitted from the shadows. The younger Scoobs jumped and turned to face it, whilst the older group stood their ground. From behind Willow, Tara emerged. Her hair was longer, reaching down her back to caress her thighs, and she too wore leather, her pants slung low at the hips and her top showing an abundant cleavage. Her arms were stretched out behind her, hands still in the shadows, splashes of blood visible on her forearms. Her eyes glittered gold and lengthened canines told the assembly everything they needed to know. Tara was a vampire. The older Willow touched her cheek in a gesture that was almost tender, then wrenched her head back and licked her throat, leaving a long wet trail. Judging from the low rumbling that emitted from the vampire, Tara was enjoying herself. Willow spoke again, the drawling tones grating on the ears.



“See, we had to follow you. That took up time and energy. It was quite rude of you really. So we went and found your little encampment. We took all the children. Oh don’t worry,” she said, seeing the stricken faces around her, “we took most of them back. We wanted the Slayers’ brats. The rest were just a warning. Show them Tara.”



Tara brought her arms forward. In each hand she held a child’s body, neck snapped. In her left was a little boy of around six, with dark hair, obviously Faith’s son. In her right was a little girl around the same age, with fairer hair, but still recognisable as Faith’s. Both children were limp, a hand around each broken throat, eyes glazed. Vampire Tara smiled horribly and gave each child a little shake, and both children whimpered.



“It’s my specialty,” Tara growled, her voice the same but the lack of a soul oh so clear, her tone monstrous, “break their necks but keep them alive. Paralysed. Can’t eat or drink, but can still talk. They take days to die and you can hear them scream the whole time.”



She shook both children again, and the girl, Kelly, whimpered. Michael, as they remembered his name was, whispered.



“Mama…help us.”



Faith and Buffy both lurched forward, only to be stopped by Alex and Spike. The blond vampire growled “MINE” and lunged at Tara. She flung the children at him. He caught both of them and spun, shielding them from the razor-sharp nails that raked down his back. The younger Scoobs watched, horrified, as Faith called something to him, and he calmly ripped both children’s heads off. Dropping the bodies, he turned to face Willow and Tara. Suddenly he grinned, giggled and broke into full on laughter. Just as suddenly he broke off. Clearly insane, he looked between the Willow and Tara cowering in the corner holding two babies, and the Willow and Tara who had forced him to murder the Slayers’ children.



“We’re screwed,” he decided. Perhaps he was more lucid than they thought.



“Very.” Willow replied.



“But not for the reasons you think.”



Another voice echoed from the door, behind the younger group.



“Hello mother.”



They stared. A miniature version of Willow stood on the step, mimicking her pose.



“Who is that?” The younger Buffy demanded.



“That would be my sister,” Alex replied.



“Spike’s right. We’re screwed.”



Ruth

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

"He killed her, didn't he?"

"They don't have a word for what he did to her."

The count of three isn't a plan, it's Sesame Street!

[barnabasvamp]

OMG Ruth!! Did you think you could sneak in here and update and we wouldn't notice?? Not!



Very happy you decide to come back and work on this fic again, but I see you are still up to your old tricks!



Angst and cliffhangers!



Excellent update but so heart wrenching!



Hope you get to update again beore too long.



BV

"When choosing between two evils, I always like to take the one I've never tried before"-Mae West

[NewRuthRising]

Sorry bout this guys, my grandad is having a triple heart bypass which is wrecking our holidays plans so ive been scrambling about too much to update. The next one will probably be in about a month. Grrr. Life sucks. Angst and violence ahoy, chaps!



Ruth

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

"He killed her, didn't he?"

"They don't have a word for what he did to her."

The count of three isn't a plan, it's Sesame Street!

[NewRuthRising]

Okay, I'm back at school, working hard, but I should have time to do another chapter tomorrow. Real life. Huh.



Ruth

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

"He killed her, didn't he?"

"They don't have a word for what he did to her."

The count of three isn't a plan, it's Sesame Street!

[NewRuthRising]

Alternatives



Chapter 16

Rating: PG13 for violence

Spoilers: All of season 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing but that which I create. All else belongs to people who can sue/excommunicate/execute me if I don’t write this.

Disclaimer #2: I am going to mess about with the ideas of religion in this fic, this is not intended to offend anyone, or contradict anyone’s beliefs, but it’s necessary for the story. I apologise in advance for any offence taken.

Summary: Willow and Tara

Feedback: Send all constructive comments to rmmik@hotmail.com (please put something like “Re: your fic” in the subject, otherwise I’ll bin it). Send all abuse to someone else.

Authors note: It’s getting to be a wild ride, but bear with it, things are explained. Sorry bout the wait.







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



It was as though Xander had been transported back into ninth grade. The girl before him could have been his best friend, except for the blond streaks in her hair. They watched in horror as she strode over to her parents and stood facing the group.



“Hello, little brother,” she said to Alex.



“Willow,” he acknowledged stiffly.



“You said they were dead!” Buffy, his Buffy, yelled.



The older Scoobs hadn’t taken their eyes off the twisted family unit in front of them.



“To us,” Faith replied, tears streaming down her face, “they are.”



Willow Junior stepped forward and locked eyes with her brother.



“We miss you Alex. Come home. You know you belong with us.”



Mystical energy began to swirl about her, and as if he couldn’t help himself, Alex extended his magic as well. The two energies, so very alike that times it was hard to believe they were two separate things, mingled and danced in a beautiful light show. Suddenly, Alex jerked back.



“You aren’t my sister,” he said with tears in his voice.



“My sister is dead. So are my parents. You are just corruptions of who they were. Especially that.” He pointed out the vampiric version of Tara.



“The only reason she exists is you’re protecting her with magic. Otherwise she’s just another demon, another potential pile of dust. My family is here.” He indicated the remaining Scoobs behind him.



“I’d kill you if I could.” He swore.



Kel stepped forward. “You won’t have to.”



Once more, the atmosphere crackled with tension. Kel faced off with Tara and the two Willows and stepped into a fighting stance.



“Time to take these guys down, I think.”



“Oh please,” Willow drawled, “I’ve destroyed gods, worlds, entire dimensions. What is an angel with no power going to do?”



“Only my God can destroy me. But feel free to have a go. Buffy, now!”



Kel swung into action, fighting as hard as she could. The other Scoobs formed a circle around Dawn, who sliced their palms open with a small knife and began to chant. As their blood mingled, it began to glow. Soon only the sound of fighting and the rhythmic chanting could be heard. Kel was scrapping and crawling, desperate to keep the witches away from the circle. There was a crack of bone and a blinding flash of light and suddenly all three witches stopped dead.



“Let’s see how you do without your magic,” Kel panted, nursing a broken wrist.



Tara, who had stepped into a patch of sunlight during the fray, immediately burst into ashes. Both redheads watched, open-mouthed, then roared and pounced on Kel, beating her to the floor. The Scoobs were helpless, caught in the chanting, but then light flashed again and Lucifer stepped forward from nowhere, scooping his sister up and hitting the younger Willow so hard she passed out, leaving her mother alone.



“You….utter….BASTARDS!” Willow yelled.



“Oh shut up,” Luc replied, striding forward and knocking her out as well. Casually ripping open the fabric of time, he tossed them back to where they had come from.



The chanting stopped. All that was left was silence.



Willow-the real Willow-stepped forward.



“Alex,” she whispered, touching her son’s cheek. Tears spilled from both their eyes. The older Slayers gathered up their children’s remains.



“Protect them,” Alex whispered. “Kel?”



The former angel had recovered and was glaring at her brother. “Yeah?”



“Send us home. We have to finish it.”



Kel nodded. For the fourth time, a portal opened on the shop floor. Without farewell, but with many a backward glance, the future was gone.



Finally, the Scoobs were alone.



“YOU WRECKED MY SHOP!” Anya screamed.



***



“Go home and pack,” Luc told them. “We have to get you out of the country for a while.”



“What? No!”



Luc began to pace. “Look, we need you out of America in the next two hours for at least a week, or Tara will die and everything you just saw will become inevitable. You want that?!”



The Scoobs, having no choice but to take him on his word, left to pack.



“You okay?” Luc asked his sister.



“Yeah. Stealing that much energy takes it out of you, ya know? Luc, what are we gonna do? We’re defying the will of the gods here! They aren’t just gonna let us take them on a trip to the Riviera. We need a safehouse. Somewhere not even the gods can touch.”



“I think we should go home.”



“What?! I thought you were with me on this! No, fine, you want to back out, go. I won’t let them die, no matter what the others say. You know, I thought you of all people-”



“Kel, I think we should take them with us.”



“Oh. Ohhhhhhhh. Good idea.”



He grinned. “I try.”



***



Willow woke up with her head on Tara’s shoulder and noticed three things immediately. She was in a bus, driving on the wrong side of the road, and they were doing at least seventy miles an hour.



“EEK!”



Her terrified squeak woke everybody else, whose reactions were similar. Giles was already awake, at the front where Kel was driving. The babies were in special seats next to Willow and Tara, but everyone else had just been put in seats.



“I told Kel to drive slowly,” Giles called, “Because of the little ones” His eyes glowed with fatherly pride as he surveyed the next generation of his little family.



“SLOWLY?!” The Scoobs yelled.



“Welcome to England,” Luc murmured from the back of the bus, looking distinctly green. “Bad music, seventy mile per hour speed limits and quaint castles. Enjoy.”



“But…. We were just in the dorm! We’d just finished packing!” Tara said, sounding quite panicked.



“Yes…?” Kel said.



“How are we here, Kel?”



“Tell me Tara, are you a witch? Do you understand the concepts of magic?”



Willow, who had been checking the babies, immediately came to Tara’s defence.



“Hey! Less of the sarcasm, please!”



The bus sped on.







Several hours had passed. They were still driving. The babies were fed, and were currently being entertained by Dawn and Xander. Kel was still driving. There was a peaceful quiet.



“Okay, that’s it. Stop the bus.” Buffy said.



The bus pulled over. The gang piled out.



“You’ve thrown us from crisis to crisis, pulled us out again, taken us across the world, through dimensions and time, given us kids, and here we are. What is going on?”



“I can’t tell you that. You have to trust me.”



“See, here’s the thing. How can we?” Xander piped up.



“If I tell you what’s going on will you get back on the bus?”



“Fine.”



Kel and Luc exchanged glances.



“You’d better sit down.”









Ruth

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

"He killed her, didn't he?"

"They don't have a word for what he did to her."

The count of three isn't a plan, it's Sesame Street!

[NewRuthRising]

Blimey i've been gone a while! Sorry folks. Real life bites. I'm working on the next chapter now, so hopefully by next week it'll be ready. Love to all.

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

Because you can't help respecting anyone who can spell TUESDAY, even if he doesn't spell it right; but spelling isn't everything. There are days when spelling Tuesday simply doesn't count.-The House at Pooh Corner.

[enternalpharoh]

This is a really great story very into interesting

[Modjadji]

Whew!



Just read this fic from "cover to cover", if you like, and I have a confession to make.



I'm a little bit in love with it.



The writing's great. The story is AMAZING. I'm vaguely confused, but of course you want me to be. Very dark in places, like a sort of humming darkness that resonates in your gut, and yet also manages to be hilarious. It's like Buffy and W/T distilled down to the heart and bones. Everything is bigger, better and scarier.



Much scarier.



You've gone and made me fall in love with W/T all over again. Glad you're carrying on with this, and glad I managed to catch it just as it hit the top of Pens again.



Bravo!



Mo.

No matter how short life may seem, it's still the longest thing you'll ever do.

[NewRuthRising]

Wow, thanks! That's almost exactly what I was trying to achieve. The next chapter will shed some light on what the hell Kel and Luc are playing at, but not much. Also some more of Kel and Anya's history.

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

Because you can't help respecting anyone who can spell TUESDAY, even if he doesn't spell it right; but spelling isn't everything. There are days when spelling Tuesday simply doesn't count.-The House at Pooh Corner.

[NewRuthRising]

As mine seems to have disappeared into the wild blue yonder, does anyone want to beta for me? Here's chapter seventeen, unbeta'd but ready. Enjoy.



Alternatives



Chapter 17

Rating: PG13 for violence

Spoilers: All of season 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing but that which I create. All else belongs to people who can sue/excommunicate/execute me if I don’t write this.

Disclaimer #2: I am going to mess about with the ideas of religion in this fic, this is not intended to offend anyone, or contradict anyone’s beliefs, but it’s necessary for the story. I apologise in advance for any offence taken.

Summary: Willow and Tara

Feedback: Send all constructive comments to rmmik@hotmail.com (please put something like “Re: your fic” in the subject, otherwise I’ll bin it). Send all abuse to someone else.

Authors note: It’s getting to be a wild ride, but bear with it, things are explained. Sorry bout the wait.







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



The Council of the Authority were seated in a great hall, on a staging platform, aloof from the girl they watched. It was all a formality, of course. Except for these meetings, these beings were formless, existing everywhere at once. But their Lord wanted these formalities for his wayward descendant, and they were bound to serve his will, just as she was. She, however, seemed to have forgotten that.



“But why? This is the closest we’ve gotten to getting this group right since that damned snake interfered! Why kill Tara? It’s senseless!”



She spoke with passion, the fire that made her work so difficult. If only she would understand that these bags of meat were only tools in the Lord’s eventual Plan, their deaths would not affect her. One of them must die at that point, and Tara was chosen. Hers was not to reason why, and yet she still questioned them.



“Bullshit.” Kel’s voice was cold.



“You people have lost sight of what is important. I did not sacrifice my existence so you could change your minds a few years on. Tara and Willow are the most important figures in this whole thing, but they are not pawns for you to play with. I won’t let you.”



Her sacrifice was her own choice. As for losing sight, how could they? They were everywhere, saw everything. They were God’s will. Free will was an illusion, she of all knew that. The witches were tools, nothing more. They would be used as such. Their feelings were irrelevant.



“Their feelings are the reason this Project is finally working. You want to destroy that?”



We do not want. She knows this. We are will of God. We are his voice. She has her instructions. She will leave now.









Kel’s body slumped against the altar. Luc braced her against it.



“Well?”



“No choice. They say she dies.”



“But they must know what will happen! The future will be destroyed!”



“And I’ll be left to rot in it. Maybe that’s what this is about. Maybe He’s lost patience with all of it. I know I certainly am. His whole family has been destroyed by this, maybe He just wants to give up.”



They both knew that was rubbish, so neither argued.



“I know what I have to do,” Kel said wearily, and Luc knew what she meant. He understood her, he always had. She was grateful for him, even if he despised her for what she did.



“Sunnydale it is.”



The plan was there. They didn’t need to speak. They both knew what to do. It was almost unthinkable, but a thousand lifetimes of Hell was better than an empty future. The thought of seeing their father again, talking with him, made them both very nervous, but it had to be done.



Luc, as always, took the optimistic view.



“Well, he’ll probably be so busy hating us for what we’ll do to the Slayer and her kin, he won’t have time to hate us for the rest of it.”



“He never hated you, Luc. It was me who betrayed the family.”



“And Anyanka?”



Kel suddenly became cold.



“Anyanka is nothing. She will stay out of my way.”



Again, they both knew that was rubbish.



“So what do we tell them?”



“Only what we have to.”









The bus drove on. Kel’s brief explanation had created more questions than answers, and each Scooby sat in silent contemplation. Their thoughts and emotions swirled around the bus, giving Kel and Luc headaches. Finally, almost simultaneously, they decided not to think about it. The whole bus, to a man, sighed.







Willow watched the babies sleep, thinking. This was huge. She had spent three weeks away from Tara, and now she had two children. Two very important children. She had yet to adjust to the idea. She hadn’t really even thought about it on anything more than a superficial level.



I don’t know if I’m ready for this.





Tara worried. She knew this point would come, where Willow would realise the responsibilities she had just been handed, without a by-your-leave or even a warning. This was the moment Kel had warned her about, when she would either reject them completely or take it in stride. The weight of the future settled heavily on her shoulders.



Giles watched them all. His children, both by blood and choice, together. His past and present colliding. The future depending on how they handled themselves. He knew they were angry at him for hiding his past. What was happening could shake everything apart. He more than any of them knew how dangerous this was. He hoped Kel knew what she was doing.



Luc worried. He could see the ripples from their actions spreading into the future, changing things. He trusted his sister, but the way things were now, they were steadily making things worse later. He hated playing about like this. That was Kel’s forte. His was keeping the legions of Hell under control. He missed his old, simple existence. On the other hand, taking them to his home meant he could stay there for a while without thinking about work. He had more than enough reason to agree to that.





Kel relaxed a fraction. By removing them from Sunnydale for the target timeframe, she had lessened the danger. However, the Council would be mightily pissed off, relatively speaking. She would bear the full brunt of the consequences gladly, if it kept these people alive and together. Her father loved them as his own children, that made them family. Her kind took that very seriously.



Only you aren’t your kind any more, are you Kelly?



The tiny voice in the back of her mind spoke up, quietly. This was bad. It was early. She had to get home.



‘Your kind’ loathe you. They condemned you. An eternity with us. You can’t hold us back forever. And once you let us go, we’ll destroy everything you’ve worked for, everything you hold dear. I think we’ll start with the demon girl.



I don’t care about her.



Nobody believes that, Kelly. But by the time we’re done with her, she will.



She is nothing. Leave her be.



Let’s recap, shall we? It’s such a pleasant tale, and we love to watch you squirm.



“Luc, take the wheel. I’m gonna go curl up in the back for a while.”







Love, absolute pure love, sang through her veins. The Council could see it, how she glowed with it, how it fuelled her. But the demon was important. It would never become a part of the Project if she shared love with this one, just as the Watcher would never leave his family to go to the Slayer. Both must be destroyed.



“What?”



She must destroy the demon’s love for her, completely, in such a way that the demon will believe she holds it in the greatest contempt. She must destroy it in a way that speaks to it’s beliefs, and she must make sure there is absolutely no chance of reconciliation. Also, the coven will require her assistance. A small transfer of power.



Against her will, Kel formed an idea that would utterly devastate Anyanka, and provide the coven’s power. Ever the efficient one, she thought bitterly.



“But,” she pleaded, “I love her.”



It is not said lightly, they noted, by her kind. But nevertheless, it must be destroyed.



“Why?” Her voice broke.



The demon has a destiny, more important than her feelings for it. She will carry out her mission.



“She loves me. It’ll destroy her.”



An acceptable outcome.







The coven agreed to the ritual. They came to her home, hers and Anyanka’s. She watched, miserable, as they stripped and formed the circle. She watched the ritual degenerate into a hedonistic orgy, as it was meant to. The effort of transferring power along with the heat from the women made her break into a sweat. That would help with the illusion. She heard her love approach, watched her materialise and stare around, taking it all in. Kel, among the pile of writhing bodies, indiscriminately carnal.



“OUT!”



The coven, startled, looked to Kel. She nodded.



“I’ve done what I need to.” A cruel grin, perfectly timed. Anyanka’s face fell. Her heart shattered.



She watched as Anyanka took in everything, saw her mind working over the idea that the very thing her existence was dedicated to eradicating had happened to her, that someone she loved more than she knew was possible, had used her knowledge to create the perfect torture, to break her so completely…it didn’t bear thinking about.



The last of the coven members trudged away, gathering their belongings as they went. She turned slowly to face the woman opposite, still standing, naked, proud, the infuriating smirk in place.



“Why?”



“Why not? All you ever do is whine. I was looking for a quick ride, something to take my mind off things and I got lumbered with you. Do you know what they’ve been saying at the High Council the last year or two? That I’d get my reward for being with a filthy demon soon enough. Well they were right, I’m being exiled thanks to you … BITCH!”



Kel saw each word strike her like a blow. She had done it perfectly. She had never hated so fiercely as she hated herself that moment, and she turned that on Anyanka. The Council would be pleased. She watched as Anyanka nodded slowly.



“What’s more,” she prepared to drive the final nail into their love. “Is they won’t even let me kill you. I hate you, and I never want to see you again.”



She’d overdone it. Anyanka could see through it. Bugger.



“Oh Kel,” There was pity in her voice. She had to stop it.



“GET OUT!” She roared.



Don’t make this harder, she pleaded in her mind. Don’t try to comfort me. I can’t love you. I have to hurt you. Just go.



Anyanka nodded. Anger covered her features.



“Fine. You are disgusting. I have nothing to say to you.”



She understands.





She knew what you were doing. She would have forgiven you. You could still have her.



No.



You gave it all up for nothing. The Council want them destroyed. She could have been yours forever. We feel the love that still burns within you. You could have had that. Fool.



No.







Luc felt his sister’s conflict, he knew what it meant.



They’re early, he thought. He knew there was nothing he could do but drive faster, so he drove faster.



The bus sped on, carrying it’s occupants towards an uncertain future.







Unacceptable. She will not obey us. Action must be taken. We are the will of God, and we will be obeyed. We will destroy her.









Ruth.

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

Because you can't help respecting anyone who can spell TUESDAY, even if he doesn't spell it right; but spelling isn't everything. There are days when spelling Tuesday simply doesn't count.-The House at Pooh Corner.

Edited by: NewRuthRising at: 2/24/04 2:23 pm

[NewRuthRising]

By the way, is there any way to find out what American time I'm posting? like a board clock? I'm in England and often end up posting in the wee hours from the american POV. Ta.

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

Because you can't help respecting anyone who can spell TUESDAY, even if he doesn't spell it right; but spelling isn't everything. There are days when spelling Tuesday simply doesn't count.-The House at Pooh Corner.

[schrodinger cat]

errr wow.... i really enjoyed this fic. i love your twists and turns. i didn't quite understand why kel beat up buffy. is glory her kid or something? err whatelse... i'm not very good at helpful feedback. you do angst wonderfully. building up the tension with all these hints at what's to come without giving away the whole storyline. i got so annoyed last night... i went up to Edinburgh but wanted to finish this story so i went online for an hour at a net cafe... typically the time ran out half way through the last update. so i had to wait until just now to finish it. do you understand how painful that is. it's bad enough when you're left with a cliff hanger but so much worse when you know there's more you could read.



oh i'm also a Brit - a Londoner *bursts into song 'maybe it's because i'm a Londoner, that i love London town'* sorry it's too early in the morn not to... i findwww.timeanddate.com/worldclock/

helpful for figuring out the time abroad. it gives the current time in a load of cities worldwide on one page. New York's 5hrs behind i think.... LA's 8.... if that helps at all



i just realised. i've been laughing all the way through at how you teased the kittens for the next update..... now i gotta wait on the same person to find out what happens next.... please give us an update soon pretty please with choc sauce on top .... for a fellow Brit??



Jo



sorry but i gotta say it... i love this fic but pointless details always annoy me. you said

Quote:

---

one second up here is a week down there

---

but also that two days was 50 yrs.... i thought this was way wrong so i did the math:

if 1 second = 1 week

then 1 min = 60 weeks

1 hour = 3600 weeks (60 x 60)

1 day = 86400 weeks (3600 x 24)

2 days = 172800 weeks (86400 x 2)



now 1 year is about = 51 weeks

so 50 years = 2550 weeks (50 x 51)



so 50 yrs is less than 1 hr, and 2 days is about *runs off to find calculator..... runs back remembering there's one on the computer.... does the sums...*

3388 years (172800 / 51)



i think it'd work if 1 min = 1 week

then 2 days = 2880 weeks which is err 56 years... ish



are my sums right.... i dunno 1.30am is far too early to be doing multiplication and division. please don't get annoyed by me pointing this out... it doesn't do anything to lessen the quality of your fic... i'm just pedantic in that way.

Elves are wonderfull. They provoke wonder.

Elves are marvellous. They cause marvels.

Elves are fantastic. They create fantasies.

Elves are glamorous. They project glamour.

Elves are enchanting. They weave enchantment.

Elves are terrific. They beget terror.

The thing about words is that meanings can twist just like a snake, and if you want to find snakes just look behind words that have changed their meaning.

No-one ever said elves are nice.

Elves are bad.

Terry Pratchett - Lords and Ladies

[NewRuthRising]

I was waiting for someone to catch that. Tara was in Hell for a VERY long time, ladies and gents. Willow's maths skills were wrong, for once. I wonder what that means for Tara? Hmmmmm......*TEASE ALERT*



Another update is being plotted as we speak...as I post....something like that, but won't be posted till i find a new beta. Got a few more surprises in store for you all.The Glory thing is being dealt with as well. Hehehehe. By the way, how much do we hate Luc? I want to know how badly to treat him in this chapter.



Ruth





Time to drag the muse out of bed. Hey Musey! Impatient fellow British Kittens here!





Here we go.

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

Because you can't help respecting anyone who can spell TUESDAY, even if he doesn't spell it right; but spelling isn't everything. There are days when spelling Tuesday simply doesn't count.-The House at Pooh Corner.

Edited by: NewRuthRising at: 2/26/04 8:30 am

[schrodinger cat]

my math skills were also wrong.... well more like my memory. it's 52 weeks in a year not 51.... but trying to think at 1am is hard.... (*jo wines* god when did i become this annoying). i actually quite like luc... he seems like a nice guy considering everyone's been hating him for milenia (well in hell it would have been) i mean after a while some of that has to rub off on you.... ok fine i'm sadistic, but him thinking that it wouldnt be so lonely even with a busload of people that hate him around's gotta make you feel sorry for a guy.



*waits patiently for next update (for about 10sec) gets angry, gives up and goes off in search off those scantily clad bodyguards*



Jo

Elves are wonderfull. They provoke wonder.

Elves are marvellous. They cause marvels.

Elves are fantastic. They create fantasies.

Elves are glamorous. They project glamour.

Elves are enchanting. They weave enchantment.

Elves are terrific. They beget terror.

The thing about words is that meanings can twist just like a snake, and if you want to find snakes just look behind words that have changed their meaning.

No-one ever said elves are nice.

Elves are bad.

Terry Pratchett - Lords and Ladies

[SpiritOfTara]

Ruth! Hun!

Love the fic! My eyes are now tired and watery from staring at the screen for too long, lol



You and your teasing... had me in fits of laughter in the early hours of this morning



Update soon, yes???

Hey," Tara said, "my father's a controlling fruity nut bar who made me believe most of my life that my mom and I were monsters. But I'm not gonna let him decide what I am" --"Monster Island"



I'mmm not as stupid as i look! -- Piper, Taboo

Amber the Amazon

[NewRuthRising]

Hiya folks, speshally my lovely friend April! Joy of joys, it's exam time for us kiddies. I am currently avoiding writing my French oral and about 8 pages of Drama coursework, learning a whole play plus script extracts from Shakespeare for a RADA qualification, and my guitar practice, not to mention enough Psych revision to make Freud crazy, so here I am on the Kitten! Update still in progress, but I haven't had much opportunity to tease recently, and my Amazon bodyguards are being downright neglected. You people should know by now that my muse lives on these things, so how about some encouragement?



Coming next chapter: Kel and Anya's dramatic breakup!

Kel's dramatic breakdown!

Luc's dramatic revelations!

Kel's dramatic revelations!

Yet more of Kel's dramatic revelations!

Probably an extra helping of dramatic revelations from random English people in Kel's home town!

An old enemy returns!

Another old enemy returns!

Just for balance, an old friend returns!

Someone's mother, back from the dead! Haven't decided whose yet! Ideas please!

Some highly suspect playing around with temporal and physical laws!

Plots that barely skirt the edge of heresy!

Luc's redemption! (!!!!!!!)

A few important flashbacks! Take note!

Demands for feedback!

Teasing!

And possibly even a cliffhanger!



All this, with less exclamation marks than there are in this post!



Enjoy!!



Be nice to the Amazons, they worked hard to get that sexy!



Bye!!



Ruth

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

Because you can't help respecting anyone who can spell TUESDAY, even if he doesn't spell it right; but spelling isn't everything. There are days when spelling Tuesday simply doesn't count.-The House at Pooh Corner.

[NewRuthRising]

Okay folks, I'm gonna do this chapter in bits coz its long. Enjoy. Popcorn and naked ladies provided.





Alternatives



Chapter 18a

Rating: PG13 for violence

Spoilers: All of season 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing but that which I create. All else belongs to people who can sue/excommunicate/execute me if I don’t write this.

Disclaimer #2: I am going to mess about with the ideas of religion in this fic, this is not intended to offend anyone, or contradict anyone’s beliefs, but it’s necessary for the story. I apologise in advance for any offence taken.

Summary: Willow and Tara

Feedback: Send all constructive comments to rmmik@hotmail.com (please put something like “Re: your fic” in the subject, otherwise I’ll bin it). Send all abuse to someone else.

Authors note: It’s getting to be a wild ride, but bear with it, things are explained. Sorry bout the wait.







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



“Explain something to me.” The Slayer’s voice cut through Kel’s misery, silencing the voices, if only for a moment.



“What?” Her voice was tired.



“Why did you attack me? Why for Glory? You say you’re here for us, but I’m having a hard time believing you.”



This was yet more history she didn’t want to dredge up.



“When I was younger, I paid a visit to Glory’s original dimension. I meant to just pass through, but I got…sidetracked. Really I’m supposed to kill whoever killed Glory, but I can’t go against my bloodbond to my father even for that, not with permission.” Her expression became bitter. “So I paid back what you did to her. The triumvirate managed to extract a promise of vengeance while I was somewhat…vulnerable.”



Anya, who, like the others, had been listening with interest, made an indecipherable sound.



“God, is there anyone you won’t sleep with? Is there anyone you haven’t slept with?”



Her tone was wounded, angry. Old hurts were clear, even to Buffy. Kel, however, remained calm.



“Yes. My parents, grandparents, siblings, uncle. Willow and Tara, their children.”



Buffy cleared her throat. Kel raised an eyebrow in question.



“Me,” she clarified. “You’ve never slept with me.” The idea was vaguely disturbing.



The eyebrow was raised higher. Buffy gaped.



“But….but…I’d remember that, surely?”



“Yes you would,” Kel said, absolutely certain. Anya found herself unwillingly agreeing. That you could never forget, especially from Kel. She found herself blushing.



“Then…”



“Buffy, I have two words for you. Alternate…dimensions.”



Buffy considered her words. Then her gaze sharpened.



“So you’re telling me you’ve had sex with everyone on the planet except those, what, fourteen people?”



“No.”



Buffy looked relieved.



“I’m saying that, at some point in time, I’ve had sex with every single human being that has ever lived or will ever live.”



“….”



“Bollocks,” Anya said, clearly unimpressed.



“You’ve been hanging around my father too much.” Kel replied.



“Shut up. You can’t have done that. You’re only what, twenty?”



“Anya, you and I were ‘together’ for over a century. We parted six centuries ago. From the point of view of my family, they knew I was with you for a week, then we parted.”



The others, having been listening earlier, had no trouble picking up the contempt in the word ‘together’, became intrigued. Giles said nothing about Anya’s incorrect guess of Kel’s age.



“So just how old are you? Wait, do you mean you’ve had sex with me?!” Xander’s outrage pushed his voice an octave higher than usual, and Kel smirked. Ignoring the second question, she said,



“Well, would you consider an accurate definition of eternity to be the beginning of time to the end of time?”



“I guess.”

“In that case, I’m about two thousand…”



Not too bad, Xander thought.



“Billion…”



Oh.



“Times older than infinity. Give or take.”



“…Um…”



Kel took in their shocked faces.



“What? I’m immortal, you know. Plus I have the ability to travel in time. Plus I spent time in places like Kashmir, where time moves differently. As has Tara, by the way. From my point of view, Tara is about 35,000 years old. She doesn’t look a day over 22, does she?”



Focus shifted to the witch in question, and she blushed, letting her hair fall in front of her face, just as Tara would, but…



“Wait a minute,” Xander said, giving into the human instinct to ignore things that were too huge to comprehend.



“Give or take what? A millennia?”



“A couple of months, actually. It’s my birthday fairly soon.”



“And you’ll be…?” Tara was actually quite curious, as she’d never been able to get much personal detail about her ambiguous friend.



“Twenty-nine.”



Attention rocketed from Tara to Giles.



“So what are you, sixty?” Dawn said.



Giles made a noise in the back of his throat.



“No. Actually, I’m forty-nine. My wife and I married when I was twenty, just as I was getting over my ‘Ripper’ phase and becoming a Watcher. Kel was born a few months afterwards, then Luc, two years later then Jo another two after that.”



He looked almost angry at having to reveal so much about himself, but Kel knew he was simply trying to protect his young charges from the fact that their ‘father’ had a past.



“Jo?”



“My sister,” Kel explained. “She was murdered, along with my mother, when she was fourteen.”



“A month after me,” Luc called from the front of the bus.



“Shut up, Luci.”



“Sure, Kelly.”



“Lucifer Edward!”



“Kelashmir Mildred!”



Kel stuck her tongue out at her brother. Without taking his eyes off the road, Luc flipped her off. The Scoobs were startled into laughter, some tension relieved.



“Mildred?” Tara asked quietly.



“My middle name,” Kel replied. “Our mother gave us our first names, our father our second. Kelashmir Mildred, Lucifer Edward and Jophiel Janet.”



“I thought Jophiel was a male angel? The priest I grew up with talked about him.”



“Yeah, all the good characters in the Bible were made into blokes, weren’t they? Except of course, Delilah. Gotta love her. And, naturally, Ruth and Naomi,” she winked. Tara got the distinct feeling she’d found another incarnation of her and Willow.



“So,” she said, a warm feeling sweeping over her, “Jophiel’s a girl. And your middle name is…Mildred.”



“Laugh and I’ll disconnect your nervous system,” Kel growled “I’m half English. I can’t help it, much as I wish I could. Why he had to give the other two half-decent names and not me…”



“And your other half?”



“Celtic, naturally. My mother. She had the most beautiful voice . Not quite Irish, not quite Scottish, not quite Welsh, but definitely Celtic. She used to sing to us growing up.”



The look of utter heartbreak than began to steal over Kel’s face was quickly replaced with bitterness, and Tara judged it was time to leave. Last time she had seen that expression Kel had left on one of her monthly, week long trips and come back with broken knuckles, a bruised face and seven dead Bulshaki demons.







Several hours passed and the Scoobs were getting restless. Xander was just beginning to wonder why they had been transported magically to a bus and not to, well, wherever they were going. His mind was still reeling from the events of the past few weeks, so he tried to blank it out, instead letting his gaze settle on Anya, playing with Willow Junior.



I can’t believe they have kids, he thought. Seeing Willow and Tara sitting close together, never taking their eyes off the babies, he smiled.



On second thoughts…it’s perfect. His attention returned to Anya, who was surprisingly good with the grumpier, older baby. She was gently blowing raspberries at the pouting baby until the tyke could not resist cracking a smile. He felt an ache spread throughout his body, an emptiness build inside of him.



I need her.







Kel fought back the rising tide of emotion she felt with some success, but she could tell she’d have to leave for this one. She couldn’t leave yet, though, at the very least she had to get the Americans settled in. Perhaps the shedding of blood would appease them for a while. She carefully and quietly drew her knife, placing the blade alongside her arm. The excitement that built inside her was undeniable, and it wasn’t entirely theirs. She ran the edge of the knife across her forearm, once, slicing the skin open and exposing the flesh beneath. Quickly she cast a glamour to disguise the cut from the others, and moved mere millimetres to cut again, cast again. Once the burning sensation had spread across her entire forearm, she re-sheathed her knife and examined the row of perfect parallel lines reaching from elbow to wrist. There were over a hundred, and it had taken a little over ten seconds. Making sure the glamour was anchored in her mind, she relaxed. They had faded into the background, for a time, but the need still burned inside of her. Which meant she wanted it, not them.



Too fast, she thought. They’re winning.







The journey had continued for hours, and the humans on board were beginning to feel the effects, when the bus pulled into a lay-by and they gratefully piled out, the babies in their parent’s arms. A quick glance to check there was nobody watching, and Kel made the bus vanish, whether by simply making it invisible or sending it somewhere Tara couldn’t tell, which was unusual for her. They walked through a small patch of forest, following Kel and Luc, through to a wide, plain field. Kel and Luc strode to the centre of the field and then stopped. The Scoobs waited, puzzled. There was a slight wind, a small sensation of falling and then the ground under their feet changed, becoming a stony path. They looked around in wonder.



The field and motorway were gone, the bus, however, had appeared on the track behind them. They were in a deep, lush valley, surrounded by forest and other greenery. The sounds of nature were intermingled with the sounds people talking, children playing and animals calling. From the woods on their left, a pack of Golden Retrievers rushed forward and sat at Kel’s feet, while a back of black dogs went to Luc. The two siblings knelt and spent a moment examining and praising their animals, when a scream of delight rang over the trees.



“They’re back!”



A blur of colour sped towards Luc, impacting him in the midsection. He fell with a laugh, and the blur was revealed to be a boy of about six years, with dark reddish hair and a freckly, well tanned complexion. The child was clearly delighted and romped with the angel for a moment, before spying Kel and leaping into her arms.



“I’m so glad you’re home,” He whispered.



“Me too, kiddo.” Kel replied, ignoring the stunned looks from the others.



Behind them, a tall woman appeared in the clearing, slinking out from behind two trees. The Scoobs gazed at her in shock. She was beautiful in the classical sense, proud features, a strong jaw and a confident posture, blue-black hair in a French twist that had come undone slightly from playing in the forest, and an amused smile played about her mouth.



“So, you decided to come home then?”



“Mama, mama!” The boy exclaimed, “They brought the Slayer and her friends!”



“I can see that, darling,” Her tone was dry.



“Hello Eliza,” Kel said. “How are you?”



“Tired. I don’t have enough energy for these two. They’re used to playing with immortals.”



“Hey,” Luc said, drawing the boy into his arms tenderly. The Scoobs found this image would not fit with their previous impression of the unscrupulous, sadistic bastard they thought he was.



“Have you had fun?”



“Yeah. Mummy kept us busy. I missed you though, Daddy.”



“D…d…DADDY?”



Luc stood up, and walked over to his father.



“Dad, this is my son, Cain. That’s his mother, Eliza. My wife.”



The shocked silence following this statement was interrupted by another blur, this time a girl of about the same age as Cain, with blond hair and an endearing smile. She ran to Kel and leapt into her arms, wrapping all her limbs around the former angel’s body as if terrified she would push her away. Instead, Kel hugged her back just as tightly, then gently let go, supporting the child’s weight.



“Hey Sophie. How’ve you been?”



“Good. We missed you.”



“We?” Giles asked. At that very moment, an impossibly pretty man of about twenty came over and kissed Kel on the cheek. She smiled at him and turned to her father.



“This is James. And this is my daughter, Sophia Rebecca.”



Giles’ jaw worked silently as he tried to process this. The others were quite happy to remain in total shock.







“So you both have children?”



“Yep.” Luc had not left his family’s side at all, and was grinning broadly.



Kel, on the other hand, was more serious, although she had kept Sophia nearby. James had disappeared altogether.



“And Luc is married.”



“You knew that, father. I proposed to Eliza the week you left.”



“Well, darling, I suppose you can understand his shock. After all, I’m sure he thought I had more sense than to say yes.”



Luc blushed.



And I thought only Anya could make the Devil blush, Giles thought wickedly.



“And James? Who is he?”



“You know him, father,” Luc said. “James McKenna. Thomas and Jennifer’s son. You were there when he was born.”



“You and James McKenna?” Giles asked Kel. Sophia giggled.



“Don’t be silly, Grandad,” she said, apparently at home with her older relation immediately, and Giles felt his heart melt.



“James is Sophie’s brother,” Kel explained.



“But what about Tom and Jen?” Giles asked, concerned about his old friends.



“My real Mummy died when I was born.”



“And Tom?” Giles asked, clearly taking the loss hard.



“Tom…had a hunting accident two weeks later.” Kel said.



“Don’t tell lies, Mummy,” Sophie admonished. She turned to her grandfather.



“My Daddy killed himself. He said he didn’t want to live his life blaming me for losing Mummy.”



The words were so matter-of-fact that for a moment they weren’t sure if the child understood what she was saying, but she went on.



“I don’t blame him. He and my Mummy are together now, and I have enough family here for any kid.”



“…Oh…”



“Okay, you two. Help me get the Americans settled.”



“Sure thing, Kel.”



“Okay Mummy.”



“Luc, you’re in charge of food.”



Luc snapped to attention and gave a playful salute.



“Yes ma’am. Permission to kiss my wife senseless afterwards ma’am?”



Kel grinned.



“Granted soldier, but try and keep it down. Some of us haven’t slept in a decade or two.”



Luc turned and saluted the assembly once more, then marched away while the children and Eliza giggled.



“Oh wait, Luc!” Eliza called out.



Luc spun on his heel and was on his knees in front of his wife before she could blink.



“Fair lady I am thy servant. Speak your wish unto me and it shall be done.”



“First of all, get up you idiot of an angel. Now, tell your Dad your son’s name.”



Kel snorted, then singsonged “Luc’s in trouble” in a way that was painfully familiar to Giles.



“Lucifer,” he intoned, “What have you called my grandson? I thought he was called Cain.”



Luc mumbled.



“Well, Cain is his middle name. Kel flat out refuses to call him by his first name, and it caught on.”



“And what, pray tell, is his first name?”



Luc was blushing and digging his toe in the dirt like the five-year-old he had been, and Giles fought back a smile.



“Err…his full name is…erm…DamienCainO’Ciannon” He said in a rush.



“Damien. You called your son….Damien.”



The clearing erupted into laughter. Luc glared good-naturedly at his wife and she smiled a sultry smile back.



Kel let the final chuckle die away, noting that the tide of emotion that had risen inside her had dissipated, leaving her with a feeling of contentment, which wouldn’t last, she knew, but was better than before.



“Okay,” she said. We’re getting clean, getting fed, and getting comfortable. Spread the word. Dinner in the main hall. We’re doing a proper welcome.”



Ruth

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

Because you can't help respecting anyone who can spell TUESDAY, even if he doesn't spell it right; but spelling isn't everything. There are days when spelling Tuesday simply doesn't count.-The House at Pooh Corner.

Edited by: NewRuthRising at: 1/24/05 12:02 pm

[NewRuthRising]

Oops. Posted twice. Silly me.





Ruth

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

Because you can't help respecting anyone who can spell TUESDAY, even if he doesn't spell it right; but spelling isn't everything. There are days when spelling Tuesday simply doesn't count.-The House at Pooh Corner.

Edited by: NewRuthRising at: 4/22/04 12:37 pm

[SpiritOfTara]

Woohoo! Update! Finally!!!





Still LOVING it!



And, uh.. i'm off to visit those lonely Amazons... ohh.. they must be SO lonely...



Call me when you update next... i'll see if i can tear myself away from the sexy ladies...

Hey," Tara said, "my father's a controlling fruity nut bar who made me believe most of my life that my mom and I were monsters. But I'm not gonna let him decide what I am" --"Monster Island"



I'mmm not as stupid as i look! -- Piper, Taboo

Amber the Amazon

[onyxsundrops]

I wasn't sure if I had read this before, but as I went on..it started coming back to me. I might have to go back and read the last few updates for everything to tie together in my slow mind, but I'm really glad that it's back. Thanks for the wonderful and well worth it update.



Yvonne

[NewRuthRising]

Glad everyone liked it. Now apart from April who already knows whats gonn ahappen next chapter, I need some ideas on how badly we want Luc to suffer. Anyone?



Ruth

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

Because you can't help respecting anyone who can spell TUESDAY, even if he doesn't spell it right; but spelling isn't everything. There are days when spelling Tuesday simply doesn't count.-The House at Pooh Corner.

[SpiritOfTara]

Oooh, *pout* You mean i can't ... ah, who am i kiddin'?

*runs off back to the sexy ladies*



~April

Hey," Tara said, "my father's a controlling fruity nut bar who made me believe most of my life that my mom and I were monsters. But I'm not gonna let him decide what I am" --"Monster Island"



I'mmm not as stupid as i look! -- Piper, Taboo

Amber the Amazon

[NewRuthRising]

*muse grunts and rolls over in it's sleep*



Lazy bugger aren't I?





Ruth



See you friday April!

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

Because you can't help respecting anyone who can spell TUESDAY, even if he doesn't spell it right; but spelling isn't everything. There are days when spelling Tuesday simply doesn't count.-The House at Pooh Corner.

[NewRuthRising]

Hello all! Just to let you know the second part of this chapter will be up by the end of this week.



April and I have noticed that my lovely Amazon buddies are being neglected...in fact, I think some of them are putting their armour back on...



Quick! I need help! Kittens! Advance! Get that armour off! Take no prisoners!



The person who gets the most armour off gets a sneak preview of the next chapter...



Ruth

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

Because you can't help respecting anyone who can spell TUESDAY, even if he doesn't spell it right; but spelling isn't everything. There are days when spelling Tuesday simply doesn't count.-The House at Pooh Corner.