Fic: Collected Works of RalSt

[RalSt31]

Title Crackers and Ginger Ale

Author RalSt

Pairing W/T

Feedback Oh, twist my arm *g*

Spoilers This is kind of AU and ignores all things of non-goodness at the end of series 6.

Summary Willow's thoughts on co-parenthood and pickled onions.



Crackers and Ginger Ale



Plain crackers and ginger ale. Plain crackers and ginger ale. Plain crackers and...and... Willow's mind was in a tumble of panicked indecision as she tried to recall the items her partner had requested. It wasn't as if it were an exhaustive list, just the two items, but with those two things came a mountain of accessories - eighteen years of accessories to be exact.



Breathe, breathe, breathe. Crackers and ginger ale, crackers and ginger ale, and college tuition and mortgage payments and explaining the facts of life and sperm donors and religion and a grandmother who couldn't remember anyone's name and demons coming round for dinner and vampires bringing them stuffed monkeys... Breathe, breathe... God I can't breathe!



Okay, passing out is good. A nice little nap on the soft and fluffy carpet, with the stars spinning and sound of rushing water in my ears. Oh yeah, breathing would be good too.



Crackers and ginger ale, crackers and ginger ale... I wonder if I should be getting her pickled onions and ice-cream? In the movies they always eat pickled onions and ice-cream. What sort of ice-cream should I get? She likes chocolate, but when she's ill she prefers strawberry with hot toffee sauce, but is being pregnant the same as being sick? Maybe I should get vanilla, just to be on the safe side.



Crackers, ginger ale, vanilla ice-cream and pickled eggs... No, not eggs, pickled onions... Onions.



Willow searched through her pockets for a pen and paper, but came up empty. I always have paper. I'm a student, an ex-geek and research girl, I always have pens and papers and magic markers and those little post-it notes with the smiley faces in the corner. It's a sign. We live on a hellmouth with slayers and keys and visiting psycho gods, it has to be a sign. But a sign of what?



Maybe going to the store is wrong. I could get hit by lightening, or attacked by a demon or vampire out for an early snack... It is pretty dark out, kind of overcast and drizzly, perfect vampire weather, according to Spike. That's it! I'm going to leave the house and get eaten by a three day turned vamp with a hankering for redheaded wiccas.



Crackers and ginger ale, she wanted crackers and ginger ale. I can't make her go without, she could get another bout of morning sickness any minute now, and why they call it morning sickness when it arrives twenty-four hours a day is beyond me. I have to get it, vampires or not, I'll just remember to take the largest holy-water-gun and Buffy's cross. I still don't understand how that works, I mean I may not be a practising Jew anymore, but I'm certainly not a Christian. Weird.



Crackers, ginger ale, ice-cream, pickled onions, holy-water-gun and a cross.



"Crackers, ginger ale, ice-cream, pickled onions, holy-water-gun and a cross. Crackers, ginger ale, ice-cream, pickled"



"Willow?"



"Agh!" Jumping a mile in the air, Willow turned on her girlfriend. "Don't do that! Are you trying to kill me? Being all sneaky pie and hidden terror girl."



"I wasn't being terror girl, I was being 'wondering why my girlfriend's talking to herself in the hallway', girl." Tara smiled.



"Oh." I think she's glowing. They always say pregnant women glow, but then she used to glow before, so it's probably nothing to do with the baby. Buffy never glowed when she was pregnant, not that I told her that, she'd have killed me - slayer hormones are not to be messed with. But my baby really glows. "I'm going to the store, do you need anything else?"



"You back in one piece and ready to give me a back rub."



"That can be arranged." To hell with the holy-water, with an offer like that I'll just float over the baddies.



"You okay Will? Not having second thoughts?"



"Second, third, fourth, fifth..." Oh God, don't look sad, I never meant... "All good, baby, all good thoughts. I was just trying to work out which college she'd go to," I'm gonna push for Oxford or maybe Harvard, anywhere but Sunnydale, "and who's going to tell her about the birds and the bees," you are, "and sperm donors," Giles can field that one, after all he did volunteer to be the daddy, "and demons and slayers and...and...and..."



"Okay, I get it." She's so beautiful when she smiles. "But maybe we should worry about the little things first, like choosing a colour for the baby's room and deciding on a name and if she's going to have godparents..."



"And chocolate or strawberry."



"Huh?"



She's beautiful when she's confused. "Ice-cream. Do you want chocolate or strawberry to go with your onions?"



"And again, huh?"



According to a study my mother did on the hormonal influences of pregnancy on the higher cerebral functions, being with child can make you appear stupid, but it's only temporary. "How about I surprise you?" I'll get both kinds and earn some extra brownie points.



"Okaaaay."



Crackers, ginger ale, ice-cream, pickled onions, baby name book and...and....



"Willow?"



"Hmmm?" She's beautiful when she's being all sexy. Sexy! Wow, baby. "Yes, honey, did you want something?" Anything, anytime, anywhere... I think I'll have to ask my mom if she's done any studies on the female partners of pregnant women and their hormone levels.



"I called Dawnie. She said she'd pick up the crackers and ginger ale on her way home."



God, she's smart. Beautiful and smart. Beautiful and pregnant and smart. Beautiful, pregnant, smart and mine. Willow Rosenberg, you are the luckiest woman alive.



The End

Edited by: xita  at: 11/29/02 12:44:06 pm

[Latsric]

Ahhh...that was funny and sweet. Willlow planning out her unborn child's entire life was priceless. Thank you for sharing this.



-lat-

- I need my obsessions, they keep me sane -

[xita]

Hi, because we can only have 500 threads per forum, and your fics are short, I am going to collect your fics in here And you can post any further short pieces here, if you have a longer piece that will take many parts, feel free to start another thread for it.

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

Buffy?

Let's change it, the Discovery channel has koala bears.

[Repost Moderator]

Originally posted by RalSt

Title: Colours

Author: RalSt

Pairing: W/T of course

Feedback: That would be nice ralst31@yahoo.co.uk

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.

Spoiler: Mid to latter part of series 6.

Summary: Willow's thoughts sometime after Wrecked. It's only very short.



Colours



I'm drowning. Drowning in a tidal wave of boredom and indifference. My whole life lies before me in an endless pattern of similarity and blandness. The only speck on the horizon is the time of my demise. Whenever that might be. All the rest is merely a muted pastel backdrop to the brightness and excitement reflected from those around me. Those who are not just letting life happen to them.



I used to be one of them. My life filled with sparks of colour so dazzling you'd have to shade your eyes for fear of being blinded. But then the colours turned to differing shades of grey, all warmth and excitement lost to the coming blackness. It's strange but in a way, the absolute certainty of black seemed welcome after months of half light and drained colour. It was real. Strong. Vibrant. Seductive.



Evil.



I still miss it. Miss the feeling of something bigger and brighter than the nothingness that surrounds me now. If only I could find the colours that I remember from before. The brilliant reds and yellows that would bring not only light but a sense of warmth and joy. Then there were the blues. The luscious, intoxicating blues. They would seep into your pores, giving comfort and purpose. Then just when you thought they had fulfilled you, they'd sparkle in the most direct of ways and suddenly everything else has faded and you're consumed with love. It is all around you. Comforting. Healing. Making you so glad that you're you and no one else, because no one else has been given the special gift of seeing that blue. Having it surround them and love them.



The only blue I see now is the muted pastel. It isn't enough to fill me with even the glimmer of love. Yet it is just enough to make me once again realise what I've lost. What I threw away with my idiocy. Enough to torture me into renewed heartache.



I search out that memory of blue and for a moment I almost wish I could banish it entirely from the spectrum of my view. If there were no blue, there could be no longing for the blue. No emptiness that chokes you in the middle of the night with its all-encompassing vacuum. It's then that the greys appear. Vague and tugging at the very corners of my mind. Waiting for a slip. For the moment when I give in and welcome it back.



I don't.



For now.



I like to think that I'll always be able to dispel the greys, turn away from the enticing darkness. But I don't know. One day the absence of the other colours might send me crashing back to where I know I don't want to go. It is something I watch out for. Gauging my responses for any sign of weakening, any sign that I might fall off the wagon and head back to dark oblivion.



Blue.



Just a hint of blue.



It sparkles for a moment and I'm left reeling in surprised delight. I would speak, beg for it to return but my breath has been stolen, any words I might have uttered lost to the overwhelming ecstasy of that one moment. One touch of blue and my life is suddenly filled with a new horizon, new possibilities. Just one look from those blue eyes and I'm alive again. I have hope again.



One day. One day she might look at me again with that all encompassing love. That blue gaze of devotion and acceptance. The look that tells me she loves me as much as I love her.



So I sit in my pastel world and wait for the hint of blue on the horizon. As if waiting for a new day to dawn on my future. I'm no longer bored. Now I'm simply waiting. Waiting for my life to start again and the colours to return.



The End

Edited by: Repost Moderator at: 11/29/02 12:52:46 pm

[Repost Moderator]

Originally posted by Taras Shadow

Wow!



Very in-depth and deep. Love this.



Please say you'll write more fics and stuff.

Quote:

---

One day. One day she might look at me again with that all encompassing love. That blue gaze of devotion and acceptance. The look that tells me she loves me as much as I love her.

---

I love that part. *sigh*



Beautiful!



~Holly~

[RalSt31]

Oh right, sorry about that.

[mollyig]

As a frequent visitor to your website I was pleased to see you post here at the Kitten.

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

[LeatherQueen]

These were all such wonderful short stories.



But that last one... god... I think I made myself forget how much the end of last season hurt. So much sorrow and angst and pain... *sigh* But so well written. Thanks for these.

"We've got the only librarian who can rip off your arm with his leg. People respect that." - Terry Pratchett

[tiredsoul]

Thank you so much for posting these stories. They were all great. "You Made Me Believe" was heartbreaking.

Quote:

---

Green eyes once bright with love, laughter and happiness were now suffused in red and vacant, as if the life force had been drained from them entirely.

---

Gulp. Incredible.



--celia

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

"That was just rude. Now I forget what I was saying."

[Tulipp]

These are wonderful....I like reading them as a collection of short stories, as LQ mentioned. The last one is so starkly painful, with that image of Tara not able to feel sorry for her friends, just wanting to move on without losing herself again. You captured so much emotion and so much truth in just a few words.



I particularly enjoyed "Colours"; this image of Willow living in black and white, remembering the red but hoping for a hint of blue on the horizon, the blue of Tara's eyes, of that coolness....it's wonderful. I'll be looking for more.

"And I'm eating this banana. Lunchtime be damned!" -- Willow in "Doppelgangland

[RalSt31]

Thanks to everyone who left feedback for the other stories, and if anyone wants to read 'You Made Me Believe' it's on my website.



Anyway, here's another little thing that's been rattling around my head.



Title The Demon Way

Author RalSt

Pairing W/T although in thought not in deed.

Website Passion and Perfection

Spoilers Up until the end of season six.

Disclaimer Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own all the characters, god help them.

Summary Anya's thoughts after the dust had settle at the end of season six.

The Demon Way

Everything is broken.



Love, friendship, my store. All gone.



Somehow I didn't think I'd care, now I'm no longer bogged down with those stupid mortal concerns, but I was wrong. I care. I care so damn much I want to scream at the world to make things right.



When Joyce died they told me that sometimes these things just happen. That people you knew, you had shared moments with, would just leave without so much as a hearty goodbye. It's not as if I don't know death; I've caused more than my fair share, but they've always been deserved, part of my job description. But Tara didn't deserve to die. Tara, who asked me about my day and my investments. Tara, who held the little girl when her world fell apart and soothed Xander's pain with just a look. The Tara that we all love, did not deserve to die. She deserved to be happy, to be loved, to be herself.



And in some strange, I don't see the attraction, kind of way, she deserved Willow. The Willow who would sneak peeks at her during scoobie meetings and reach out to take her hand the moment she came near. Not the Willow of after, jacked up on power and rage, so lost all she wanted was oblivion. Nor the glimpse of the power junkie Tara had been forced to leave. But the geeky Willow, the funny, if annoying to some of us, Willow. The girl who would risk her life for her friends and give her whole heart to those she loved.



And Willow, she deserved Tara.



Despite our arguments, despite our jealousies, I could see she was special, unique in a way that would attract many but only really captivate a select few. Tara had been one of those captivated. Shown past the outer layers of nervous chatter and intelligence, through the inner labyrinth of loyalty, whit and bravery and into a heart of fragile hope and endless love.



Don't get me wrong. She can still be a pain, what with her 'I'm better because I'm a human and haven't killed half of Russian' attitude and lips that have at one time been pressed up against my Xander's. No wait! I don't care about Xander or his lips. I do, however, care about my store or what's left of it.



Sigh.



Everything is ruined.



There's no way we can repair the gaping hole in the side of the building or rebuild the second floor. Not to mention the books. God, Willow ate the books! There's no getting them back. Unless, of course, I could tie her down to a chair and syphon the information out of her and back onto their pages. It's possible, I'm sure. I could ask Hallie, but she'd probably just get jealous of Willow's vengeance technique and suggest sacrificing her at the altar of my stock. I don't have an altar, well, unless you count those imitation Tibetan shrines I was trying to sell for the very reasonable price of sixty-three dollars, plus tax, a piece. But even so, I wouldn't want to sacrifice Willow, she's my friend.



She's my friend and she's broken.



Tara was my friend and she's ruined.



They told me that as a human I had to accept that sometimes people just died.



But I'm not human anymore.



Vengeance can be sweet; vengeance can be just; vengeance can make everything right.



It's all so easy. I don't know why I ever let them tell me being mortal was so wonderful. This, this is real power, real friendship, real love.



It takes but a moment. The whiny voice of that other one, the blond who ran away with Jonathan. 'I wish Warren was still alive.' Somebody really should tell him to be careful what he wishes for, because sometimes I'll answer.



"Wish granted."



A little jet pack malfunction, a long time in prison, but Warren is still alive.



More importantly, so is Tara.



I just wish I could tell them. What I'd done, why I done it. But I can't, that's my punishment. Who knew D'hoffran would be such a stickler for rules? Surely bending the timeline to help your friends should be a perk of the job? I think the G'narl demon was right, we should start our own union and demand better recognition for lower level demons and minions of the highest ranks.



Oh well, enough of dwelling on past wishes, Tara's invited me over to the Summers house for a post-trio party. I think I'll brink punch.



The End

[Tulipp]

RalSt, I loved this story! Watching the turns and twists that Anya's mind takes from her initial feelings about her store being ruined to her reflections about Willow (that paragraph was superb) and Tara to her realization/acknowledgment that she's not human anymore and doesn't have to follow human rules...that gave me the chills.



I'm not sure I've ever read a story from Anya's POV like this, and I have to say, I really like it; you established her voice in so many ways, from referring to Dawn as "the little girl" to remembering how Tara would ask about her investments to her thinking about Willow eating the books.



And a happy ending to boot.



Wonderful. Thanks so much for this one.

"And I'm eating this banana. Lunchtime be damned!" -- Willow in "Doppelgangland

Edited by: Tulipp at: 1/16/03 11:26:53 am

[RalSt31]

Thanks Juli, I must admit to having a soft spot for Anya and sometimes the way she thinks is rather charming or down right chilling.





Title Frog Invasion

Author RalSt

Pairing W/T

Webpage Passion and Perfection

Spoilers None really, unless you don't know that Willow and Tara are a couple and they have demons on the show. In which case, you're probably in the wrong place.

Disclaimer Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own all the characters, god help them.

Summary Willow is bitten by a demon. Or as my beta - thanks Steff - put it 'This is strange. Have you been on something illegal? '



Frog Invasion



One, two, buckle my shoe. Three, four, someone breaking down my door... Oh, cripes, someone's breaking down my door. Don't panic, don't panic. Oh my God, why am I panicking? It's only a door, a door that's kind of splintering in the middle, a door with an angry and probably growling demon behind it.



Yep, definitely panic time! Which is good, 'cause I've actually already started the actual panic part of the panic time, and so if it wasn't panic time, then I'd be way over panicked for the time.



The walls! Now the walls are moving, squirming almost, like frog's skin if you look at it under a microscope, just before it jumps out and tries to bite your nose off. Oh my God! The walls are made of frogs!



I never knew frogs wore Georgia O'Keefe prints before, very avant-garde. But they can't fool me, I know what they're really after, I know how their little amphibian brains work. It's all squishy nonsense and 'we're related to Kermit' until the time is right and they begin their master plan to take over the world. They thought I was fooled, but I know what they're up to, I've seen the way they sneak and plan behind our backs.



Insidious, that's what it is. An insidious scheme to pollute all the drinking water with froggy fungus and slowly wipe out the entire human population through a mixture of dehydration and slime. They won't get me. Oh no! I've made plans. I've stocked up on bottled water and sprite.



The door. It's nearly gone, the wood transformed into little pencil shapes, although not true pencil shape, because they totally lack the symmetrical point and graphite or lead filled tip. So, more like splinter shapes. Big, nasty, take an eye out, splinter shapes. I said they were insidious.



"Will, honey, drink this." Tara's voice held a trace of laughter but the sure and steady way she forced the potion past her lover's lips was a true sign of her worry. "Are you sure she's going to be all right?"



Giles left his perusal of the room's book-shelf to place a reassuring hand on the blonde's shoulder. "She'll be fine." He looked to Buffy, signalling his desire to leave. "You just need to let the antidote do its job. Other than that," he shrugged, "there's nothing we can do."



"But, if you need anything, anything at all, phone me," Buffy pleaded. "Okay?"



"O-okay." Tara had spent many a wonderful night with a babbling girlfriend, but never one who didn't know the difference between the real world and her nightmares. She wasn't sure she was up to the task of looking after Willow on her own. At least not if she started attacking the froggy walls with her geometry set again.



"I could always stay," Buffy offered, hoping the other girl would capitulate.



"Nonsense. Tara will be just fine." Giles gave the two young women a tight smile. "Willow needs rest and a calm, non-threatening environment. She'll be fine," he repeated.



Evacuate! We must evacuate now, before they know we're on to them. We could go to Detroit or maybe Kilimanjaro, although I'm not sure how we'd all get there in Giles' car. Maybe we could hire a tank? I like tanks, at least in the old movies, I wouldn't actually like to live in one because, hey, space issues! Or should that be lack of space issues? Given that the lack is the thing you have issue with, then you wouldn't need to repeat it in the title as it's already present in the use of the word issue. Perhaps it needs a Latin name? Oh, oh, I know, I know, claustrophobia. The fear of clauses. I wonder if that includes Santa Claus?



Ugh! The frogs are attacking! They must have infiltrated the air supply, my tongue tastes like it's swallowed some of Xander's cooking. Oh God! I hope it was the frogs and not Xander's cooking, I'm not sure I'm up to that.



Wait! What's that? It smells like, like, warmth and honey in the tummy and lazy Sundays under the covers. Not that they're exactly smells, but that's what it smells like.



Ohhh, Tara shapes!



Tara closed the door behind Giles and Buffy, glad to be alone once more in her space. Alone that is, except for a hallucinating Willow. But whatever her state, the redhead would always be welcome. They might not have made the move to living together, quite yet, but their individual dorm rooms had somehow become the property of them both.



Looking at her girlfriend, she saw that for once Willow was staring back at her, as if seeing her for the first time since she'd been bitten by that demon. Tara smiled but Willow's features did not change, as if they'd been stuck on hacker curiosity and refused to leave. It was an endearing look, but not one Tara was used to seeing directed at her.



"Will? Sweetie, can you hear me?"



Tara shapes, Tara shapes with Tara voice, with Tara laugh and Tara smile.



Tara watched as Willow dissolved into giggles, her body oscillating with barely suppressed joy. She didn't know if it was a sign that the antidote was beginning to work or just another set of illusions, but it was a definite improvement over the cowering fear and mumblings of frog invasion.



Slipping off her shoes, Tara padded towards the bed. "Come on, Will, time for bed." She folded back the covers and turned to change out of her clothes and into her nightgown, strangely shy about disrobing in front of her confused lover.



Bed, bed, up the stairs to Bedfordshire. Where'd she heard that? Bedfordshire, Bedfordshire, that was in England, she remembered from reading the atlas; which isn't geeky, no matter what Cordelia might have said, it's just educational and as everyone knows, education is the root of all evil. No, that's not right. Education is the root of all... rooty type of educational things, that have roots. Giles! He's British, he'd know about Bedfordshire and going to bed and nearly naked Tara.



Blink!



"Pretty."



Tara turned, letting the nightgown trickle down the rest of her body. "Did you say something?" Willow was pouting, her eyes apparently glued to the areas of her lover's body that had so recently been covered. "Come on, Will, let's get you to bed."



Willow didn't move, nor did she stop pouting. Tara took a moment to enjoy the sight before taking Willow's hand and leading her to the bed. Giles had assured her that the poison would be eradicated from Willow's system within six to eight hours, which meant she'd be back to her normal self by the time they woke up. Tara sighed. "Close your eyes and in the morning everything will be better."



It's dark! The frogs could mount an attack and I'd never even know about it. It's a conspiracy. The frogs are working with the Tara shape and plotting to destroy me. They'll trick me into sleep, then send little wiggling tadpoles up my nose and down my throat, until I start turning green and spout gills. I guess the gills part isn't so bad, it would mean I could hold my breath under water longer than Xander, but I don't think green skin would look right with my hair colouring. Plus, ick, tadpole slime.



Hmmm, Tara warmth. Perhaps I should investigate further? Search the Tara shaped frog collaborator for hidden weapons or ticklish spots?



"Will? Will, what are you doing?" Tara tried to hold back a moan as inquisitive fingers grazed past a particularly sensitive piece of skin. The subdued figure who'd been confined to small murmurings about invasions and slime, had been transformed into a mass of exploring limbs. "Will!" A hand had found its way beneath the material of her gown and was proceeding to make small circles against Tara's inner thigh.



"Snuggle," Willow mumbled, her lips joining her hands' exploration and beginning a slow and loving survey of Tara's neck.



The blonde knew she should stop it. Willow wasn't in her right mind, she didn't know what she was doing. Willow's tongue flicked across her earlobe and Tara had to admit that even if she didn't know what she was doing, she was doing it very well. "We, we need to stop." Her voice lacked conviction.



So smooth and warm and yummy.



"Will, I don't think.." Tara's words were cut off by an eager tongue and before she knew it the young blonde had being pulled into the kiss, her arms joining her lover's in a sensual dance across fevered skin. Panting for breath, she finally managed to pull away. "We shouldn't."



"I love you," Willow's voice was true, her gaze unwavering.



Tara crumbled, her body joining with her lover's in an erotic interpretation of pleasure, a string of 'I love yous' littering the air.



Later, as their bodies began to cool and their breathing returned to normal, Tara snuggled deeper into her beloved's embrace and sent a silent 'thank you' to Giles for bringing her Willow back to her so quickly. "Night, night, sweetie."



"Night, night." Willow paused, her mind overly active despite her body's fatigue. "I think we need to organise a raid to save Miss Piggy, before Kermit turns her into sausages." Her plan explained, she closed her eyes and fell into a dream-filled sleep.



The End

[xita]

Oh I just read the last 2 stories. I really like the way you write Anya, that was inspired and a great way to get what we want back. And I love how in spite of the way she feels about Willow, she still thinks they belong together.



The last one , hee, I love Willow dreams and combine that with a demon poisoning and you've got wacko.. thoughts. But even the madness of her demon induced dreams, she knew she loved Tara and it was coherent enough to fool Tara, hee.



I am also real curious if you will continue meeting me, it had a really good start.

If I had to live my life again, I'd make the same mistakes, only sooner.

Tallulah Bankhead

[RalSt31]

Thanks Xita. I think poisoned, hallucinating, suffering from amnesia or near death, Willow would still know she loved Tara



And yeah I will be continuing Meeting Me, only I started writing another long W/T story and it's kind of taken precedent. But I will be getting back to it soon.



RalSt

[Tulipp]

Oh, I just read the Willow-hopped-up-on-demon-juice story, and it's so funny. I'm not sure how you manage to create such entirely different moods in each story; every single one that I've read is distinct and has its own personality (and I was just over at your website reading your new AU story, which has me hooked). I love seeing this particular vision of Willow and Tara coming after the more painful stuff. I notice that I read each story as its own thing, but at the same time, it's possible to read the whole thread as a set of connected stories, and I like the way that I take the feelings from one story with me to another.



Anyway, I'm glad Willow got to have her moment with Tara even if she wasn't entirely over her hallucinations. Thanks for another great story.

"And I'm eating this banana. Lunchtime be damned!" -- Willow in "Doppelgangland

[darkmagicwillow]

I got a recommendation to read this thread, and boy, am I glad I did. These short stories are wonderful, each in its own very different way. I'm not sure which is stranger though, "normal" Anya or hallucinating Willow. *G* The Anya viewpoint story was quite unique, the intermingling of her alien viewpoint and very human feelings working wonderfully well.

--

"Omnia mutantur, nihil interit." -- "Everything changes, but nothing is truly lost."

[RalSt31]

Thank Juli and Darkmagicwillow, I'm glad you're both enjoying these. I do kind of have a soft spot for Anya and would love to read more stories from her pov, as it's so distinctive and honest.

In the meantime, here's something very short to help get my brain moving.



RalSt



Title: Light and Shadow

Author: RalSt

Website: Passion and Perfection

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon and the people at Mutant Enemy. The character's likeness belong to the delightful actresses who portray them.

Spoilers: Season six, up to 'Entrophy'

Summary: Willow's thoughts.





Patterns of light and shadow. That's all it was really, patterns and images in the air. Life was like that, a collection of barely discernible phantoms flitting across your conscience before disappearing into a tomorrow that never comes. Light and shadow, real and imaginary, true and false. It was unrelenting and never ending, even death couldn't dissuade the vagaries of being.



For me, she had become the light; brightening my existence and bathing in my shade. I revelled in her, soaking up her warmth and growing strong from her love. I should have known it wouldn't last, couldn't last. You cannot take without giving. You cannot bask in radiance without offering your own light as recompense.



So in the end my eternal shade drove her away, just as my light and enthusiasm had attracted her. Yet that wasn't the end. Couldn't be the end, not for us. As trite and melodramatic as it sounds, we were made for one another. Soulmates or some such thing, destined to meet and to love. Despite my faults, despite the spells, despite the conceit and despite being a fool, she and I are meant to be.



As the darkness transcends, I can once again discern my own light, tarnished though it may be. Still it is not lost or forgotten. It is there, waiting to be released and given full reign of my dwindling spirit. The warmth of my own soul has finally been allowed to burst forth with heat and hope. Gone is the determined certainty of my own infallibility, and in its wake the fallibility of truth is allowed to grow.



Light and shadow, shadow and light. The shadow dependant on the light, but the light given form by the shadow. Both required to complete the picture and make it a whole, a perfect image of life and love. The good and the bad, right and wrong, hesitant and certain. We will be both to each other, open and honest in all things and beholden to our love.



Love.



Despite the shadow, despite the lies, the love is still there. Never to be taken for granted but treasured for the hope it gives. The hope of a future, a future with her.



The End

Edited by: RalSt31 at: 2/24/03 8:33:47 am

[xita]

Sigh, poor Willow there struggling with her dark side and the light she wants to shine on Tara. Perfect piece for Willow's feelings at this point. Thanks for these short bits, I enjoy them

-----------------
Baby you make my love come down

Oh you make my love come down

Make it come all the way down -
Evelyn Champagne King

[xita]

This is new to the archive. You can leave feedback!



To the creator of this thread: If you ever want to add something new, just email a mod and we'll move it to the active Pens board.

- - - - - - - - - - -
"Trust is a risk masquerading as a promise."