Hey ho Kittens,
Part 19... and yes they are still circling. Just 20 after this then... meeting*S*
Then I can count you down to the next step...
Enjoy!
Katharyn
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Title:
The Sidestep Chronicle – Consequences and Possibilities (Currently Part 19)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism always welcome.
katharynrosser@hotmail.comSpoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe though reference is made to events that occur in both realities.
Summary: All of the consequences of the nights before lead to possibilities.
Disclaimer: I still don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. I am making zilch from this series of stories.
Rating: 15
Couples: None as yet… soon though!
Notes: I think someone predicted something like this for a certain character with “zero survival skills” in feedback. Take a bow… I’m not fooling anyone here am I?
Thanks To: Jo, who somehow found all this therapeutic. Kerry who stepped back in. Joss… I still have faith.
The Sidestep Chronicle
Consequences and Possibilities
By
Katharyn Rosser
Allan had been slumped over his desk when the cleaner had found him the next morning. Tara had been awake anyway, lying alone in the aftermath of her dream, when the summons from the Mayor had arrived. She’d dressed swiftly and made her way straight to the deputy-mayor’s office, hurrying through the streets, already knowing with a terrible certainty what had killed him. She rushed past the upset cleaner, the flustered secretaries and assistants. Everyone was feeling vulnerable. More people hurt by his death. Allan couldn’t have intended to leave much later than she last night; his briefcase was already on the desk – obviously ready to be picked up. His coat lay on the floor beside the chair. Apart from that there was no sign of a struggle. Not that he could have fought them… he’d even refused the stake she had offered everyone in City Hall. Most people had – they knew that they would have to be very lucky to manage to stake a vampire. But that hadn’t been the point of the offer – the point was to bring the vampires to a halt – to make them stop and think. To make the hunter worry about what the prey might do to it and end up giving that chance an extra second to escape. Most people just hadn’t got that idea though.
He, Allan, had a family waiting for him… he wouldn’t have stayed too long in work after she had gone. If, maybe, she had waited and been the last out of the building then she could have prevented it all. Would have. But she couldn’t bring herself to speak to him last night. She was too caught up in thoughts of people who was already dead. Daniel Osborne, Veruca Tolsing and… Willow Rosenberg. Was that her flaw? Did she spend too much time thinking of the dead and not enough of the living?
She had just given him an almost polite wave. She didn’t even say a word to him and now he was dead. People just kept dying around her. Perhaps if anyone who was still alive wasn’t safe near her. She smiled a sad, little smile, shocking the medical examiner with the expression - and herself a little - before clamping down on it and composing herself with the proper dignity due at this occasion. But it wasn't a happy smile… it was one of realisation.
She was surrounded by death. She had been for years.
No, she had realised in that moment, the dead weren’t safe around her either. Especially the dead. Allan had always tried to be decent to her though. To engage her in conversation – which very few others in the office, apart from the Mayor, wanted to do – she guessed that they just didn’t know her yet. They knew enough to see what she was and they regarded her as little more than either a security guard or some shy little girl with freaky powers. At the moment, considering the failure that had let Allan die, she couldn’t disagree with either summary. She didn’t have the chance to try to show them otherwise, her working hours and practices didn’t give her the opportunity to make chit chat with them. Just so long as they followed her advice about eluding the vampires that might come after them she was happy enough to be unappreciated. She would know what she was accomplishing. The Mayor would know… and so would the vampires.
Just like she knew that she had failed Allan.
Her most immediate concern though had to be whether he would return. That wasn’t something that a medical examiner would worry about. His body might return, if not his soul… His soul, she suspected, was long buried – and it made her wonder how much he had bought into the Mayor’s plans, really. He had always seemed uncomfortable with the details and especially the ‘why’ – they were alike in that. Had been alike…
Someone else she had to put into the past tense.
Both of them, though, had continued to do their jobs despite that discomfort. His soul though, that was the only part of him that would be at rest – one way or another – if his body returned as a vessel for some demon.
“They killed Allan,” the Mayor told her, unnecessarily as he came in behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder. The drained corpse, grey, lifeless and cold was enough to show that to anyone. There was no way that anyone could be that colour and alive. It was fatherly, that gesture, like her own Daddy had sometimes been at difficult times. His voice was filled with promise of retribution for the slight he had suffered – or that Allan had suffered for him. She had never heard him so clearly angry before, and she knew how he had seen Allan, like he evidently already saw her. As a part of his family. There would be some sort of vengeance.
He would demand that – he wasn’t much for justice.
Wasn’t that all just semantics anyway?
“Yes,” she replied. It was all she could say really. What else was there? Unlike that werewolf there was no ambiguity here at all. She waited until the Medical Examiner had left before she started to check the body to ensure that Allan would not rise again. No blood on his lips, or on his tongue. It seemed clear that he had not been forced to drink from a vampire - but he would probably have to be cremated, tastefully, nonetheless. Standard practice in the absence of other instructions from the deceased. There hadn’t been so many burials following a violent death in the last three years - except where the family insisted – or refused to believe in what the other possibilities regarding an afterlife were. Burial was still far too common though. It still allowed the vampires to replenish what losses they suffered at a frightening rate – at least until recently she had started to dramatically increase those losses. And not all of the victims bodies were ever recovered for burial… it appeared that the vampires sometimes kept the bodies close to them. Just to make sure.
Just like Willow.
Her body had never been found.
It was a war of attrition as much as anything else. Of course the vampires only had to get lucky once and the war, from her point of view at least, was lost.
She’d certainly never discussed Allan’s wishes with him - in the event of his death - because she had never really discussed
anything at all much with Allan, but she thought that he was a person who would have liked to be buried. He had struck her that way. The idea of being burnt, so appealing to some, was a horror to others. He’d made her think that he was very definitely the burial kind.
Personally she had seen enough death now that she knew that she couldn’t worry about that herself. Dead was dead… it would just have meant that she had lost the battle for justice – which she did not want to do. Not so close to the endgame… she was in the right place now to make it all end. The pain and suffering of this town. That of people beyond it… and her own.
I’m sorry you won’t get that wish Allan, she thought to herself, keeping tight rein on all those emotions. She couldn’t get over the fact that she had never found time to really listen to the Deputy-Mayor, despite his position and title. He had been a nervous man, young in years for his job. One of the bright generation of young stars that seemed to be relied upon by politicians, and worse things. He had just been made old by this place. The stresses and strains of life and death in Sunnydale. He had always struck her as a warbler, as her Daddy would have put it. Lots of noise, some of it nice. Not so much content. And scared like a little bird too. Not at all suited for life here in Sunnydale at all.
Suited for death though? Anyone was suited for death… Especially here.
Everyone…
I’m sorry I let you die, Allan.She was supposed to have ensured that no one in this building ever suffered that fate… No one had ever told her that, but it was a responsibility she had taken upon herself. And she had failed in it.
She wondered if he had been attracted here by one of the Mayor’s adverts – and his charm. Just like her. Allan hadn’t brought a family here though – he had met someone when he arrived. Maybe some good things could come out of Sunnydale… Happiness, new life. That was suppose to give people faith in the future, but look at how it had ended for Allan and his family.
He was lucky to have had that though, but now his wife was left without him. Alone. She knew something about that – being alone - promising herself that she would try and visit that family in the next few days… after a decent interval. It seemed to help some people. She hadn’t known him too well, it had only been a few weeks after all, but she knew how lonely it was to lose those you were close to. And anything she could do for his wife… children.
Goddess, children too. Their pictures stared back at her from the desk as the Mayor finished talking to the medical examiner and the detectives. Making it quite clear what their reports must read – at least the public version. The one for his eyes was to be as thorough as it could possibly be.
She kept looking the pictures for a moment more. Apologised silently to them. Sorry that she wasn’t there for him. For all of them. That she hadn’t stayed and protected the woman’s husband. The children’s daddy. But she hadn’t known… She just had to hunt them. She hadn’t known that she could have stayed right there and done the same.
I’m so sorry.Everyone around her died, except perhaps those who deserved it. She flashed a look at the Mayor who was already onto arranging the removal of the body. Much as she was coming to admire the… man? She was so very acutely aware of his ultimate vision and what he was happy to do to achieve that. He had never made a secret of that from the very outset. He had not asked her to do anything, yet, that she was uncomfortable with. But he would one day – and on that day she would have to refuse him, and face whatever consequences that choice bore for her. Had Allan known what he really was? Had he cared? Perhaps if he knew and did nothing about it… then maybe it was fitting that he die… not be around to assist her employer any further.
No, she mentally stamped on the rebel thought. That was a horrible, unworthy thought. No one deserved this.
No one in the world.
Not Allan, not Willow.
Willow? Why did she keep popping up?
But then what did Tara herself deserve… if that thought
was at all valid?
She tolerated and worked for one evil to fight another evil… and which was truly the worst of them? She couldn’t say that she really knew.
The Mayor gestured to her as he talked about the arrangements with his regular funeral contractor, now in attendance, and a minute or two later they made their way to his office. “You’ve dealt with it?” she asked him in the corridor.
“Well yes, the dead must be tended to, can’t have them cluttering up the place,” he told her with forced cheerfulness. “But darn it all I am more than a little ticked off about all this.”
“I-I’m Sor-” she started to say, but he interrupted her with his hand.
“No Tara don’t apologise.” He stopped outside his office, looked at her. “These things are always going to happen.”
“B-But they shouldn’t - I was supposed…”
“Allan was in a public building after dark, security was bypassed through a fire door. You couldn’t have done anything about that. The fire regulations are very strict Tara – and for good reason. Those doors have to be of a certain construction and standard. So do their locks.” He pushed her chin up with his finger whilst she was looking down at their shoes. “Aside from which it is not even your job. You have nothing to apologise for… besides one of your innovations proved very useful indeed.” And with that he swung open the double doors to his office.
In the office was a cage, and inside it that something else that was dead. Yet it was one of those despicable things that was still mobile. Had she been a cat she would have hissed her displeasure at being in its presence. One of the vampires from last night. The Mayor had it here in his office…
The device she had put together and was used to trap it in the room was pretty simple. Her incantations in his office offered only one entry to the room. A vampire could not enter or leave through a window or even the walls. Only the door. His office had become a trap for the undead. When the door was closed at night it triggered a mechanism which raised a cross and some spell ingredients into a small recess she’d had built with his blessing. If the door was opened the wrong way… after a short delay the cross dropped to hold the vampire away from the exit for the few necessary seconds until the powdered ingredients were mixed by gravity and air currents - the magical barrier was completed. No way out for whatever was in there. Then it was just a question of finding it in the morning and holding it at bay until it could be caged. Evidently he had found someone to do the caging for him. She wondered who that had been. But the Mayor had agents all over the place. All sort of agents… but not vampires. Not since she had come to town.
She had even doubted whether the trap would ever really work in practice, despite being a great theory. The biggest problem was being able to contain the vampire once they knew it was there… Somehow they had. It didn’t matter how. And it had worked. Like the proverbial charm.
The Mayor too turned to the cage and started to address the vampire within it. “You did something last night that I do not like – at all.” Tara looked on, wondering whether she should just open the curtains and have rid of it… but the Mayor was not finished with it yet. He had received a message from the vampires last night – that was very clear. It was supposed to say ‘you are not safe,’ or ‘we rule here.’ Something typically vampire. She knew that he would want to send his own message – through her. “Your Master,” he continued, “cannot send you to do these things. Not anymore. Your time in Sunnydale is almost done.”
She was glad that he had faith…
The Mayor was operating under the assumption that this thing was the Master’s and it may have been. But it had not been alone. Not when Allan had been killed at least and though she was certainly no forensic dentist she could have told the Mayor that this was not the vampire that had killed Allan. The bite mark was too small for a vampire of that size. Viciously torn though the throat had been, the bite itself was small. Almost delicate. There had been another vampire… though this one had probably fed at the same wound.
A stake raised itself from Tara’s hand. She was ready. Ready to silence it in any protest it might make. Neither of them wanted to listen to it – not with Allan being wheeled away down the hall. The stretcher was squeaking as they took the Deputy-Mayor away.
The stake floated in front of the cage, as the vampire held within it started to snarl again. Perhaps it was in response to the words, or maybe in protest at being so restricted. Seeing the stake levitated and pointed unerringly at its heart though – no matter how it moved within the cage – it fell silent. It even had the dignity not to beg which impressed the Mayor – if not his young assistant. Very little about vampires, most vampires, impressed her anymore.
There was just one vampire she wished she had known better… allowed to impress her.
“You know Tara, I think that there is definitely a better standard of vampire in Sunnydale these days.” He was probably referring to that refusal to beg. “Actually I have to take a little of the credit for that – After all we worked so hard to improve the educational facilities in this town, give our future citizens everything opportunity, heck I almost feel like they’re my own children. And darn it the fact that
he is creaming off so many of them is impressing me very little I must say – in fact less than very little. After all I have my own plans for the youngsters of this town and the children are our future.” He gave a little laugh, probably suspecting that beyond allowing her to vanquish the Master she didn’t care what he did to this town.
He was wrong there. She did care what he did. It was just that she couldn’t do anything about him… yet. If the Master was destroyed. Maybe then, maybe then she could try and resolve Sunnydale’s other major problem – if she had the time to spare before… becoming. But for now she needed him as much as he needed her.
“And so, my dear Tara, I think it is time to send a memo,” the Mayor suggested to her. The stake slipped forward towards the bar of the cage – the vampire within backing up against the bars.
She was happy to dispose of it, not just because of what it was though. Seeing the stake dart forward the Mayor quickly interrupted the movement placing his own hand on the outstretched one from which the stake had risen. “Ahh, not here. I just had the carpet cleaned again – you know you keep doing that. I get the cleaners in and you stake a vampire. We really must get into synch here. You stake a vampire
and then I’ll get the cleaners. Much more hygienic. Besides I want a much bigger…audience. After all it is far better to have to send a message once – rather than over and over again. I want them to understand the consequences of their actions - these wayward children of mine.”
Consequences.
“To the s-source then?” Tara asked, hesitating at the magnitude of the task. But the reason was a valid one and he had the right to expect this of her. It was what he had employed her for. If she chose to keep things simple when hunting that was one thing – but if he required more than she would have to oblige. No matter what the cost. And she agreed with his message. The vampires, the Master, had to know that he could not do this. Not here. Not any more.
“Right to the heart of the matter – so to speak.” The Mayor laughed, gladdened by the prospect of testing his assistant’s resources and skills as well as the idea of teaching that lesson in a memorable fashion. It was just a shame, he mused, that he wouldn’t be able to watch the rest of the show.
The blonde woman turned away from the cage – though the stake continued to track the vampire in its increasingly frantic movements. Still it did not beg, instead starting to threaten. “She will tear out your throat and drink you dry before tossing your body to the dogs for this! Now she is returned she will remain at the Master’s – snnn.” Tara spun her head back, raised a finger to her lips… silencing it instantly. Already too much, far too much talk. But the Mayor appeared not to care what the thing was saying. Instead he was standing silently, inspecting his fingernails. “Shsh” she commanded and the vampire was silenced, clawing at its suddenly closed mouth, its fangs pinned through both sets of lips as the jaw had slammed shut with bone shattering speed. Satisfied by the replacement of the dangerous words with groans of pain through the clenched teeth she went to the desk and took a vial from her bag.
Why did she carry this around with her? It wasn’t like she wanted to be doing this spell. Not really.
Who was the
she that it had referred to though? Tara almost wanted to ask outright, to know who it was that the vampire thought they would fear. Then she could prove it wrong.
“Must you? I did just get it cleaned,” the Mayor pointed out as she started her incantation and shook the mingled ingredients out over the vampire. At least it was sparkly stuff though. It got stuck all over everything, but you could see it, it wasn't just dirty like vampire dust.
She broke off from the incantation to see if his resistance was really enough to stop the spell, gave him a questioning glance. She could do this without… but the strain – the level of magic required. Dangerous stuff, too dangerous just for the sake of the carpet? He would have to accept it. She had to get this thing out of here… away from her – the pendant burned her still. She hadn’t even noticed it when she had been with Allan.
“Oh go on…I know how you love to kill them and you know that I love to indulge you. Besides you clean the carpet much better than the cleaning company anyway – though I do like the clean smell of their shampoo. You think you could get some of that minty cleanser to impregnate it with at the same time?”
She didn’t answer, too busy concentrating, and he just laughed enjoying the show.
As she continued to shake the gently sparkling dust over the vampire the Mayor made a decision, pulled out his phone and dialled. The call connected just as the vampire winked out of existence, along with the stake, a slight rush of air as the empty space was replaced by a smoky atmosphere from another place. “Phillip,” he said softly, “could you please get the cleaners in this afternoon – my office. Thank you very much.” That menthol scent really was the tops. So fresh and yes, darn it, clean. It even smelled clean… and that was really important.
Knowing better than to distract anyone carrying out this intensity of magic, he watched his assistant closely as she stood, eyes closed, in deep concentration. The Mayor carried out a slow count under his breath. One Mississippi, Two Mississippi, Three Miss…
Consequences indeed, a big grin crossed his face as Tara came out of her semi-trance.
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The Master stood alone on the stage in the club which used to be known, to kids throughout Sunnydale, as The Bronze.. No one else ever got up there to stand alongside him. Willow or Luke might, when invited to, share in his glory. No other vampire would dare though. But when he was in this sort of mood? Not even they, as his acknowledged favourites, would approach. To raise themselves to his level was a definite risk. Unless requested of course. It which case they would climb as high as he required and happily throw themselves off again into a pit of stakes for their Master.
Maybe not happily…
“Where,” he asked “is Zachary?” He should have been here, now, so he asked the question of the room in general. Sometimes he looked back on the old days stuck in the Hellmouth with something akin to nostalgia. Trapped yes, but life had been so much simpler and his servants possessed of a far greater capacity to simply serve rather than pursuing their own ends. Not directly addressing anyone left them all fearing him – which was the way that they should regard him. With fear and awe. Reluctant to anger him due to the unavoidable consequences. Several of his brethren nervously bent in to suck a little more from the vessels they clasped in a feeding position. It was that sort of uncouth gluttony in the face of their betters that really dragged this place down…but still they were all so young. A few centuries ago none would have fed without his command – let alone without his permission. You just couldn’t get the quality of vampires today that had once existed. He blamed television. With Angelus long since gone to dust, and before that possessed of a
soul of all things, and Darla vanished to who knew where, there was only Luke left of the old ones.
Ahhh Luke. A strong and faithful servant, resilient and resourceful – useful enough when cunning was not involved. But… he was just a little dense with that strength. Luke would never be a true favourite. The Master preferred his favourites to have some level of cunning and power beyond the purely physical. But then Luke had been faithful for all of those centuries, particularly the eternity of being trapped underground here in Sunnydale… Lacking many other options he had been left with little choice but to elevate that one.
The Master had fancied that he’d found some new favourites amongst the younger generation… Willow, of course, and even that Xander. Vicious killers the both of them – but with other talents that set them above the rest of their ilk. Xander too was now long since dust – as Willow had been. Though their sacrifice had not been in vain. No sacrifice for him ever was, but their deaths had given him the opportunity to kill yet another Slayer himself. It had been far too long since the last one – Paris during the Revolution - and her blood… it had been very sweet – even if a touch stale by the time he had returned to her body to drink deeply from it.
And he had missed them… particularly Willow. She, more than any of the others, had brought a deliciously vicious vibrancy to the court during her time. Come the day, he thought, she would have stood at his right hand. And now she should again – she had come back to him – as every faithful servant should to their Master. Destruction had never been a barrier to him – there were ways back from it of course – his favourites were the guardians of the knowledge that would accomplish that end. Now it seemed that Willow had found her own way back from the nether realms. Or wherever it was that she had been.
Oh, he had not seen anything quite like Willow since Drusilla had been turned by Angelus. That had truly been a golden age for the cruel, the mad and the dangerous. It seemed that such a time had come again, but it had been a false sunset. Glorious days indeed, and now with Willow returned to him, they might be such again. He looked over at her, regarding her carefully. Not even death could keep her down. Much like himself. He graced her with a gesture of acknowledgement – a tiny nod. What happened next would not be directed against her. She was far too valuable and came up with such dastardly fiendish devices too. The Exsanguinator. He still missed that factory… he’d been so excited about the grand opening. Before the Slayer spoilt it all. Willow had died for him then. Now that was proper devotion. Let the others worry… and suffer. But not Willow.
“Where is Zachary?” he rumbled again…knowing that this time someone would answer or all would face feeling his wrath. Zachary was another of those with potential. Give him a century or so and he might just prove himself worthy.
“He didn’t come back from… he didn’t come back last night Master,” one of the newer ones, Thelma, informed him. Indeed was Zachary not her sire? He thought that the missing one was. It was getting so hard to keep track of them all – there would have to be some pruning soon.
“Back? Did he go out? Mmmn?” He fixed his gaze on the vampire that had spoken up and saved them all from pain. “Back from where Thelma? I don’t recall sending him out on an
errand last night. He knew that he was to be here at this time. You all did, for this morning is the Feast of Aurelius – the traditional gathering of all his brethren during rising of the hated sun.” He actually drew breath simply so that he could sigh for effect. Unreliable and yet to learn the lessons of discipline - all of them weak. All but two perhaps. It was always the same, he had to teach the same lessons over and over. Century and century out. Someone was going to kiss that hated daylight… get staked or possibly lose a head - just to get it across to them what discipline really was. That was also a part of the Feast of Aurelius.
Thelma should always have known where her sire was… but he wasn't unaware of her power in his court. It had actually interested him briefly, how she mothered them – and they responded to it. They obeyed her as a matriarch. And whom did Thelma obey? Her sire? Besides… he could tell that she knew something more than she was saying. “Thelma… share,” he instructed and was pleased to see Willow move up behind her the motherly one. Initiative, excellent. He really would have to find out just what his Willow was doing back here – the how - but for now it was just interesting to have her, and her appetites, back with the family. Such an appetite.
For all sorts of things.
Thelma was well aware of the peril of having spoken up, but feared to stay silent now too. When Willow brushed her hair back from her neck she became even more was nervous and she showed it. Surely her little Willow wouldn’t do anything to her… “We went to eliminate a problem for you Master.” Willow was playing with the strap of her top but she didn’t dare brush the red haired vampire away. Not now. Not whilst the Master was focused on her like this... Willow was his favourite and she had heard of what happened to vampires given over by him to Willow.
But surely her Willow, her little Willow wouldn’t…
“Thank you! Thelma I do not know what I would do without you and Zachary,” he told her, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Oh, remind me which problem would that actually be? I must be getting old and forgetful,” the Master asked the question calmly, almost conversationally, the sarcasm lost an instant after it had appeared – which made it all the more obvious of course.
“The Mayor,” Thelma replied nervously. “Well not really the Mayor… more his-” Thelma was silenced by Willow’s finger brushing across her lips, holding them together – silencing Thelma from revealing the source of that mission. For her little Willow she would keep that confidence.
“Oh
that problem.” The Master feigned forgetfulness and the room knew that someone was certainly going to meet their final death. The smart money was, of course, on Thelma but that was by no means a certainty. Space started to open up between Willow, Thelma and the rest. “I was sure that I told you all not to go near that one. He is not-” The Master was cut off by a sudden rush of vaguely potpourri and menthol scented air as the shape and then the volume of a form snapped into sudden existence beside him. That form coalesced into a body, Zachary’s body and was lowered the couple of inches to the stage. All just had time to note that his mouth was pinned closed by his own fangs as Zachary gestured wildly, pointing.
The Master turned his head to see what Zachary was indicating and felt rather than saw the thin, pointed stake rush past his nose and down into Zachary’s chest, impaling him and ceasing his undead existence in an instant. He felt the body burst and the dust settle across him in impossibly fine grains.
Taking stock for a few seconds as the assembled vampires reacted, some panicking, some running forwards and others back, the Master carefully noted their reactions and resolved to weed out the undesirables from his presence. Panic was not seemly. Willow just grinned, excited by the originality of the situation and the position of her hands on Thelma demonstrated her desire to make another kill for him.
Instead he waved Willow away. She pouted but obeyed, slinking back into the shadows. Well someone had after all met a final death and that fulfilled one of the criteria of this holy morning so the others were safe – for now. “There endeth the lesson. When I send you to your deaths then you may go with my blessing and a song in your unbeating hearts. But when I demand your presence I expect you to be
here. These attempts to… please me - stop.”
It was clear to him now. There had been recent losses, but they happened sometimes when the White Hats, as Willow insisted upon calling them, were out in force. But this… There was something new in town. He brushed the remains of Zachary from his clothing. This was not a ‘White Hat.’ Not some interfering school librarian. Not even the Mayor who had access to the darker magics. This was different. There was a magic user here and a dangerous one at that. Still, he thought, it might toughen his children a little in the absence of a Slayer. It had been far too long since they had faced something that would test them. Of course… he’d send Willow. But after the feast.
He gestured to her and she came to him, daring to reach for his shoulder and remove some other part of Zachary. He chose not to snap her fingers for the impudence as she passed him a tender morsel from the whimpering pile at the edge of the stage. First they would feast.
She was special after all and deserved some extra consideration. She had returned to him. He had known that she was different before she was even changed and even if the prophecy about her – and her love – had failed with the destruction of Xander she would still be special to him.
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You hear that baby? - There is no life outside fanfic, There is no life outside fanfic,There is no life outside fanfic,There is no life outside fanfic,
at: 4/15/02 1:35:35 am
