The Junky...your final comment has been noted and acted on accordingly...I just love extra goodness...
by RomanceJunky » Sun Dec 02, 2001 4:38 pm
The Junky...your final comment has been noted and acted on accordingly...I just love extra goodness...
by mariacomet » Thu Dec 06, 2001 4:42 am
Awake
(First Cycle: Enneagram Part 6/?)
By
Mariacomet
The hissing from outside became louder.
“Give us the witch.” Over and over the words came from everywhere vocalized in low growls. The volume of the cries had become louder over time. Dawn was the first to put her hands over her ears in an attempt to quell the noise. Tara’s arm was wrapped protectively around the teenager’s shoulders.
“If a man has no water and is dying of thirst, the best way to save him is, not to have him drink of a polluted spring. Witchcraft is not the way.” Laslo all but growled.
“A spell is what saved your backside in the first place, Laslo.” Willow, called him by his first name which made his jaw tighten. Out of all of them, the hacker was the most vocal against the knight. It was like watching two pit bulls try and sort out which would be in charge of the yard. “Because of what I did, we at least knew they were coming.”
The Knight’s lips lifted in a sardonic smile. From Tara’s perspective her guardian was feeling more than a little ruffled. First the slayer had overpowered him without so much as breaking a sweat and then demons had come, which were impervious to attack. All in all, not a good day for a warrior. “Yes, the whole part about me TELLING you the Soul de Trute being in danger. That was just an amusing tale.”
“Are you listening to them?” Willow went on insistently. “They aren’t calling for the *Soul* to come out and play.”
“Aye,” The Irishman agreed and straightened. “And I’m wondering how such creatures rose and found us in the first place. It would have nothing to do with you, would it witch?”
“Do you understand that this is Sunnydale?” Willow asked, waving his words aside. “Party central of weirdness.”
Tara moved to stand behind her lover. “Laslo, I know this must all be confusing for you. But Willow’s right. Strange is almost normal here.”
It was the first sign of true fire he’d seen within the gentle woman. He glanced to her, and took a meek pose, folding his hands behind his back. “Some of the wars that I’ve fought in haven’t been against flesh and blood. I have the ability to see the spirit. At least parts of it. It’s how I knew about the vampire and its how I know about her. She’s shadowed.”
”She’s just trying to help.” The blonde insisted.
Willow turned toward the whole room, silently asking everyone else to give an opinion. “We HAVE to find out what these things are. “We can’t get to the Magic Box.” Each word was slowly spoken by the red head, so that her point sunk in. “There isn’t any other way.”
The eldest among them lowered his head a moment, removing his glasses. He folded a handkerchief and made slow purposeful circles on the lenses. It seemed that this was a stalling tactic, like he was debating whether he should speak. ”Willow, not that I am agreeing with Sir Galahad, but this spell is rooted in magic that’s has questionable origins at best.”
“I can control it.” The red head immediately retorted.
Gile’s expression was grave. “You’re still young and you don’t understand the nature of the powers you are suggesting we harness. To cast the Eyes of Choas, you would have to call on Enab.”
Tara’s concern was growing with every second. “Call on Enab?”
Willow gentled, acknowledging Tara’s anxiety while still arguing her case. “It’ll just be for a few minutes.”
Worry was lit in Tara’s gaze. “What happens if something goes wrong with the spell?” Tara shot back. “Willow, have you thought about the consequences?”
“Nothing is going to go wrong.” Willow was sick of explaining herself. Didn’t Tara know her? Trust her? The distance that had crept between them was like a veil. Thin. Barely there at all. Yet…it was there. A barrier that hadn’t always existed. It would be alright. It wasn’t like Tara was being Ms. Ultra Understanding. This was important, why couldn’t Tara see that? Yet the one that knew more about her then anyone ever had didn’t see. “There are things we need to know, and no one else here has the power to do what needs to be done.”
The Englishman made a gesture for everyone to settle down. “This is all pointless speculation. The spell components for an “Eye of Choas” spell are very specific, we couldn’t possibly…”
“I have all the components.” Willow said simply, cutting him off.
His eyes widened slightly. It took him a moment to find words, and when he did, the condemnation in his voice wasn’t hidden. “I see. Been practicing have you?”
The way he was looking at her made her feel like a child who’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. His open disapproval of her actions made her feel hurt and frustrated all at once. “No. I was researching. I thought one day it might…” Willow mentally kicked herself. She was all but stuttering her defense. She was hardly a teenager anymore and Surrogate father or not, he had no right to make her feel like one. “We don’t have time for this. We don’t know how long that energy barrier will hold, Giles.”
Something in the blonde Wiccan twisted sharply at the statement. “Enab is a savage spirit. And he never manifests his powers unless the caster is alone.” Her tone was gentle, trying to tame the anger that had been building in her partner. “You’d have no anchor. You…When did you start experimenting with things like this?”
“I’ve just been keeping my options open.” The other witch said “I can handle this. I can do things now that I couldn’t even dream of doing a year ago. Things WE couldn’t even dream of doing.”
Laslo raised his brows and looked to Tara then Willow. He started to ask a question, but then changed his mind and kept quiet.
The Watcher stood, hands in his pockets, attempting as always to be reasonable. “Perhaps Buffy and I could try and sneak past the creatures outside, double back to the shop. If we can get to the books, I’m…”
“IF you can get past the creatures, IF you can get to the books. IF you can figure out what the demons are before they get through the barrier outside. And while you’re running around, what could be happening to Xander and Anya?” Willow demanded.
The anger in the words washed over Laslo’s charge like a violent wave, making her back up a step. Her heart clenched at that look, but she refused to look down. She stayed afloat surprised by Willow’s anger but holding only to what she felt was right. “Magic is not a toy. It is not your friend. And you can’t treat it like it’s your servant.”
Buffy was just returning from the upstairs. She had momentarily ducked out of the conversation and headed towards her room to stock up on weapons. Whether the retreat was tactical or one done in that same apathetic haze she had been in since her return, wasn’t entirely clear. “Who’s a servant?” She asked.
“Willow proposed a rather radical option for us to discover what kind of demons we’re dealing with.” Giles answered quietly. “An eye of Chaos spell, where in essence you look through the eyes of a demon to gather what it knows.”
Buffy nodded, and having read the dissention against the spell in the Watcher’s tone, she regarded Willow questioningly, “Will, I’m thinking that any spell with the word Choas….not a happy spell.”
“I don’t believe this.” Those eyes usually so loving and cheerful…now were filled with rage. “Willow, fix the Buffybot. Willow, what are we going to do now that Buffy’s gone? Willow, what are we going to do now that Buffy’s back? Willow, Giles has run off to England, do the research for us. You all have no problem telling me when you need me to fix things. Don’t I get anyone that says Hey Willow – good job?” Her face hardened, as her hard stare moved over each one of them in turn. ”What I can do is amazing, you would think that one of you might understand that, might even be proud of me.”
“We are proud of you Willow.” Tara said softly, soothingly.
A snort. “When have I not believed in any of you? No matter how crazy what you were saying sounded. When have I not charged in head first? Tara? Giles? Buffy? Well now…I need you all to trust me.” Willow told them, her eyes varying shades of pain. No one said anything. No one seemed to be able to look at her save Tara. “This is the only way.” Still the others in the room didn’t give voice to their thoughts. Willow sighed. “I need to get ready.”
Tara started after her, ready to argue the point but Laslo took her arm lightly. “Might I have a word?” He asked softly.
“Right now?”
A wry smile turned up his lips. “I think now might be best.”
After a moment’s thought on where in the house they could talk privately, Buffy pointed out that the basement was the most likely place. It was a little strange ducking into a darkened room with someone Tara barely knew. She had known this moment would come, where she would have to actually talk one on one with this man. She had been avoiding it.
Laslo paced the length of the basement once, his hands behind his back. Finally he stopped and turned to face her. “We must retreat.”
“You saw what those creatures did to us when we tried to fight them.”
“Yes, my lady…” Laslo answered with exaggerated patience. “But you misunderstand. I meant…WE…should retreat. There are a few doors where we might slip out unnoticed. I believe we stand a good chance of getting away.”
Talking to people in the heat of their emotions had never been a problem for her. Tara was surprised but confident that she could make him see reason. “It surprises me that you would even suggest that. You must know what it’s like to fight side by side with people. To have allies. These people are more...they’re family.”
Laslo took in a long breath and stared into the darkness of the basement for a moment. “I have a sacred duty and so do you. ” For the first time, the knight allowed all of his distaste for those he had met to drip into his expression. “Besides these people are…”
Her brows rose ironically and a hint of agitation crept into her voice. “You criticizing the people I love isn’t the best way to make your point, I promise you.” Again, Tara used what had always been an innate ability; she tried to see things through his eyes. To empathize. “I understand that Knights were used to being in the higher crust, but you have to realize…there are no serfs here. Not even any peasants.”
Laslo paced the length of the basement again. He had an uncomfortable, wolf backed into a corner look to him. “I don’t know anything about that. Anymore than I know about family.” Her head tilted to one side and she searched his face, uncertain what he meant. “My first memory is the Powers that Be waking me and telling me I had made a choice. I had another life. I gave it up so that I could serve. I wasn’t even allowed the memories of that existence.”
Tara took in the information little by little, feeling a more solid understanding of Laslo click into place. The knight was always standing at attention, or letting one hand fall to his sword hilt. It was because being a solider was all Laslo knew, all he had. Except…he knew her; the legend of the Soul of Truth. She got the feeling again that he still didn’t like her. Charge or no, he didn’t necessarily respect her. But that too, was one of the few things he had. Feelings - love, friendship, warmth – if he spoke the truth, he’d traded it all for duty. “The wedding ring, is it a wedding ring? From before…?” She let the question hang in the air.
The fingertips of his ring hand fell to the ring and he toyed with it lightly, moving it back and forth on the chain. The knight didn’t like talking about the past, a look of discomfort overrode his normal haughtiness. “I don’t know. It’s been with me since that first day. I thought the Powers that Be might have given it to me. As a reminder of my duty. But the inscription…”
“What does it say?”
It was the same question he had refused to answer earlier and she had no reason to believe that he would tell her now. Yet he seemed so much younger when he talked of being awoken by the Powers that be. “Benynsee Y chree.” He whispered. “I didn’t know what it meant for a long time. An ally told me. It's Gaelic - It means ‘Teacher of my heart.’ ” Laslo shook his head. “It’s meaningless. I don't know why I keep it.” His stance became more urgent. “My point is, have you considered that if I’m right about who you are, you no longer belong to just yourself? Staying with your so-called family may be noble in sentiment but it’s selfish in practice. You have to start thinking differently.”
It stopped her. Her mind froze in the quiet echo of his words. But all she could think was that Willow needed her upstairs. And that somehow they had to find Xander and Anya. ”I don’t know you’re right. And I won’t leave them.”
He didn’t say anything, but she could see his mind working to come up with an approach. Then abruptly Laslo sighed. “As you say, my lady.”
Tara started for the stairs then paused and looked back to him. “You…don’t like me very much do you? You don’t like any of us.”
“I’ve known you forever.” His words were simple, as if he’d just said he’d like his coffee with sugar. Tara blinked at him. “It’s…you have been my guiding star.”
Tara studied him, shifting his thoughts in her mind. He hadn't actually answered her question. “You mean the idea of the Soul de Trute has been.” She wondered if given what Laslo had told her about his memories, he understood the difference.
His grey eyes showed his defiance at her definition, but some part of him recognized the accuracy of her words. It was the only reason he made no argument. “It’s what I know. And I meant what I said before…about seeing darkness in these people. It’s not wise to stay with them.”
“I’m not leaving them.” Tara answered in a tone just as soft and true as his words to her had been. It was true. Loyal Xander. Honest Anya. Heart strong Buffy. Wise Giles. Intuitive Dawn. And Willow. Her Willow. It was her alone, that Tara’s thoughts rested on when she continued. “I love them. They are *my* guiding star.”
“Love.” He scoffed and shook his head. The knight took one step toward her, one hand falling to his sword. “Life is a series of choosing one love over another. Be careful of your choices. They might affect the world.”
The story was that Enab had once been a man. Long ago, making deals with dark powers so that he could find knowledge. That was the beginning of the legend. The magicks he sought to uncoil were all dark. In his curiosity, he made a bargain for eternity and thus was cursed to the lower levels of the nether realms where he saw all things, but had no power to affect anything.
Willow checked the book again, then lit the fifth candle, before settling herself into the center of a circle of ash. Carefully, her lean fingertips set a small horn before her. The row of candles was just outside the circle. No light could exist within the spell area. Only outside. She moved a small ceremonial dagger over her palm and let the blood flow. Quickly, Willow drew a vial of liquid from a pouch at her side. She opened the vial let one drop and then another fall into her palm. Her fingers were covered in a mix of blue and dark black, it was sticky and felt hot. She pressed a hand print on the ground near one side of the horn, then the other. The prints evaporated the moment they touched the kitchen floor. Willow lifted her palms to her eyes, feeling the same uncomfortable warmth now on her face. A wind began to push the witch’s hair back from her face, even though all the windows and doors to the kitchen were closed. A ring of unrelenting smoke formed around her filling the circle.
The red-haired witch felt in control, but excited. She began to speak, her voice filled with confidence. “Let Enab’s eyes be opened, let secrets be known. Let Enab’s face have form, let what is hidden be shone. To see with-in the what we do not know – and reveal truth or treachery from friend or foe.”
It was just her here. Just her and her power. No Buffy or slayer abilities could help. Not even Tara’s knowledge or her skill could be useful here. It was just her, and the intensity of it exhilarated her. Willow didn’t know why she was shaking, couldn’t seem to stop herself. Her heart was pounding harder than she had ever remembered it pounding before. Even with all the horrors she had seen, all the times she had been chased – her heart had never raced like this. She felt the power coursing through her, became one with it – a conduit and then….then became it’s master. Goddess, it was like sex. She could feel her cheeks flushing. Something like butterfly wings ran up and down her skin. It was hard to tear herself away from drowning in that sensation. Each time she casts a spell this feeling became a little stronger. Each time, she grew just a bit more powerful…more capable. Willow struggled to concentrate.
Her eyes were beginning to burn and she felt them leak, from tears…and something else. Suddenly the feeling of claws ripping at her face assailed her. It was like she was being slapped and raked by them. Her head flung from side to side under the repeated blows. Laughter cold and hollow filled the circle. She had felt fear when considering the spell but now it swooped over and grabbed her like some dark vulture. Even in this, though, she refused to think of stopping the spell.
“Let Enab’s eyes be opened, let secrets be known. Let Enab’s face have form, let what is hidden be shone. To see with-in the what we do not know – and reveal truth or treachery from friend or foe.”
The cuts on Willow’s face became cold, then pulsed with heat then were icy again. The trading of sensations became almost pleasurable, much like the surge of her own power as it rose again and garnered control of otherworldly forces. She fumbled with the pouch at her side and removed a small container of soil.
She spread it before her and as she began to chant again, it ignited. “Let Enab’s eyes be opened, let secrets be known. Let Enab’s face have form, let what is hidden be shone. To see with-in the what we do not know – and reveal truth or treachery from friend or foe.”
She opened her eyes and they were unfocused. The world was darkness and it sang to her. The cloak of it wrapped around her tightly, made her feel held, and secure. Then she saw him; a fair haired man in black with a circled talisman around his neck. Others were behind him. All of them wore the same talisman. This vision faded and blackness clamped down on her quickly. It was as if something had torn her away from the spell and the division hurt, it made her feel as if she was being pulled apart. She opened her dry lips to scream but found no voice. Darkness on it’s ever moving horse came for her again and this time it swept her conscious mind away.
From the living room, Tara kept taking long looks toward the kitchen. Giles approach her and laid a hand on her shoulder, she smiled up at him gratefully. But his own worries were clear. Guilt assailed Tara. She should have had a talk with Willow about the magic long ago. If something happened…Tara couldn’t let herself finish that thought. Suddenly from outside the cries of ‘Give us the Witch.’ went deadly still. The Watcher strode to the window to see what was happening. Laslo and Buffy followed close behind him. Whatever he saw, made him move towards the front door and open it, however cautiously. Tara joined the others, gathering behind the older man and looking outside. There was nothing. For all intents and purposes, it had suddenly become a quiet, normal, starry night.
Then Tara heard it, a soft buzzing in the back of her mind that became louder and louder. The buzzing stopped and a voice, one she had never heard bellowed forth echoing in the cavern of her mind.
“Well, well…I have to admit I AM impressed. An Eye of Choas spell. Now THAT takes some inner drive.” Tara looked around to the others but no one else seemed to notice. They were discussing what had happened and what to do about it. Only Laslo, looked up and then was quickly at her side.
From where she lay in the kitchen, Willow groggily opened her eyes. She was exhausted and bleeding, but she too heard the voice as it continued.
“And there are two of you. Oh no, none but you two can hear me. I think you both deserve a reward. You have to remember to reward yourselves for the things you do right. You want to see your friends, Ladies? Come to the crypt called Rizen in the smallest cemetery in town. I’ll leave the door open for you.”
[This message has been edited by mariacomet (edited December 07, 2001).]
by delany » Thu Dec 06, 2001 5:42 am
by Rane » Thu Dec 06, 2001 10:51 pm
by mariacomet » Fri Dec 07, 2001 11:41 am
quote:
Originally posted by Rane:
i am sooo loving this fic. it's so incredibly written and so interesting. and laslo.. does it have anything to do with casablanca? i know, i'm crazy...
Honestly, the name just kind of came to me. It seemed kind of 'nerdy' but in a cool kind of way
quote:by aladdin » Fri Dec 07, 2001 5:34 pm
quote:
Originally posted by mariacomet:
Honestly, the name just kind of came to me. It seemed kind of 'nerdy' but in a cool kind of way
Nerdy?
Oh, don't let any Hungarian guy ever hear that, he might be very offended.
And well, this was nice and not only the choice of names.
by mariacomet » Fri Dec 07, 2001 8:33 pm
quote:
Originally posted by aladdin:
Nerdy?
Oh, don't let any Hungarian guy ever hear that, he might be very offended.
And well, this was nice and not only the choice of names.
*backs up slowly, hands in the air*
The writer would here by like to apologize to all Hungarians everywhere for the thoughtless insinuation that Laslo is a 'nerdy' kind of name.
What I meant was...it is a unique name that seems older but has a kind of alternative feel to it.
by emily 'first' » Sat Dec 08, 2001 5:10 am
------------------
vive,valeque.
by aladdin » Sat Dec 08, 2001 3:51 pm
quote:
Originally posted by mariacomet:
*backs up slowly, hands in the air*
The writer would here by like to apologize to all Hungarians everywhere for the thoughtless insinuation that Laslo is a 'nerdy' kind of name.What I meant was...it is a unique name that seems older but has a kind of alternative feel to it.
And I think that if you ever want to visit Hungary, you should just not mention this statement and you'll be fine.
I just said that because I had a friend called Laszlo and he certainly was no nerd.
Like the fic.
by mariacomet » Wed Dec 12, 2001 3:18 pm
Dedication: To Chris, who puts up with my rambling and nods in all the right places. To Tommo who wields a mean yellow highlighter. To Kiel, who wields a mean blue highlighter and is damm nice about it. And to RJ…Aka My Willow - just cause.
Awake
(First Cycle: Enneagram Part 7/?)
By
Mariacomet
Willow’s eyes travelled up the familiar curve of her lover’s back as she walked. Her hands had traced over Tara’s body a million times, like an artist trying to capture the memory of a perfect canvas. Certain types of beauty shouted out from the rooftops and snatched from the world all glory and glamour. Tara’s was quieter beauty, like the chime of a perfect bell hovering just above the wind. Looking at Tara didn’t steal her breath, as some of the books said. It was just that all of Willow, mind, body and soul, was enraptured. Her senses focused solely on drinking in the sight of her love, feeding as if starved for all things Tara, putting off everything else.
The blonde Wiccan was upset and made no effort to hide it. It had been an hour since the spell, and Willow’s eyesight had finally returned. Waking up and seeing only blurs had been a frightening reality at first. But it was dulled by the realization that she had done it. She had successfully cast the spell, if only for a few moments. Tara had been taking care of her, cleaning the claw marks on Willow’s face, gently dabbing at Willow’s brow with a cold cloth. The blonde had done so in relative silence save for asking the redhead how she was feeling several times. Willow wanted to kiss that worried expression away but, admittedly, was in no condition to do so. She hadn’t even been able to walk up the stairs without a lot of help from Giles.
Willow sighed deeply. This was the downside to witchcraft: recovery. She was like a one-shot weapon with the bigger, more taxing spells. It was frustrating. Tara re-entered the room, and gave her lover a glass of water. The pattern for the last hour had been that Tara would come in, fuss over Willow a bit then ask if she needed anything before exiting, only to reappear a few minutes later and start the whole process all over again.
This time as Tara rose, the redheaded witch caught her hand. “Please stay.” Willow said quietly.
“The others are w-worried. I should tell them how you are.”
Willow didn’t let go. It hurt to smile, but she did anyway. “You just got here.” She traced the pad of her thumb over Tara’s fingertips, loving the contact. “You’re not supposed to refuse the request of SickWillow. That’s the law, you know.” A half grin, then a sudden seriousness shadowed soft sky blue eyes. Tara sat on the bed at Willow’s side, but it was a reluctant gesture at best. The hacker was in trouble and she knew it.
'Okay,' Willow, admitted to herself. 'I could have been a lot more forthcoming about what I was studying.' Yet she knew Tara wouldn’t like it. She hadn’t wanted to argue. Willow had believed, still believed that certain spells could be useful, even if their origins were questionable. It was a matter of having the power to stay in control, to remain focused. It occurred to Willow that she should be more afraid after going through all that she had with the spell. But she wasn’t. She was elated. Willow didn’t just feel fine. She felt unreal, like she was about to break out into giggles; buoyant and happy. The only thing putting a damper on her romp through the happy place was that expression her beloved was wearing. “I’m really sorry I scared you, baby.” Willow said. “Wanna cuddle with me?”
“Maybe after I strangle you,” Tara answered wryly. “Willow, your face was covered in blood. You were blind for over an hour.”
Actually, Willow had been able to see, just barely. But she wasn’t going to quibble over small points when Tara was looking at her that seriously. Tara’s fingertips skimmed Willow’s cheek, tracing the fresh cuts there. Loving touches from Tara. The anger couldn’t be that bad then. When the blonde was angry with her, it made her feel like her world had been tilted on its axis. Willow’s temper was quick, so she could give as good as she got – and sometimes more than she got…but afterwards…“On a scale of one to ten, how mad at me are you?”
“12.” Tara answered frankly. 12. Not good. A soft kiss on the redhead’s brow was like grace itself. The touch of an angel. “We need to talk about the magic. Right now I’m just glad you’re okay.”
That was the equivalent to a ‘we’ll talk about it later.’ Later was, well, later. Now was now. Now was better. “I know what you’re going to say.” Willow began carefully.
Tara cocked one golden eyebrow at her. “Yes, I guess you do. You knew what I would say all along, which is why you didn’t tell me.”
The matter of fact way that her partner put that made a surge of guilt hit her. Willow Rosenberg’s bluff had just been called in a topical game of poker. She should have known that would happen. This was Tara, after all. Willow struggled to sit up. “Baby, when we took up slaying, I knew we would have to think of ways to kill. To attack things. The books that we usually use weren’t getting it done.”
Her partner listened and considered the words. “If you use magic to harm, you place yourself and everyone around you in danger. Magic isn’t meant to be an answer. When you use it, you open doors.”
“The bad guys are always opening doors. They are always bringing bad things in or taking good things out.” That statement suddenly reminded her of the Hokey Pokey. Willow struggled to clear her thoughts. A bit of a buzz had come over her since doing the spell and everything felt foggy. “We should be able to open doors too. I’m being careful. It’s not like I’m all fly-by-night with these spells. I’ve done the research.”
”Honey, look at what this spell did to you.”
“Some of what happened, I expected. It’s the price…b-but it wasn’t just the spell. That voice we heard in our minds, it was…it traced the Eyes of Chaos spell and forced me to hang up. I was seeing…someone. People. And then…someone or something severed the connection.” She paused, quietly pondering what she had just said. The active separation had been very clear in Willow’s mind. She couldn’t stop it from happening, couldn’t hold on. She knew the feel of her own magic. What had stopped the spell felt totally alien. The memory of the voice’s words suddenly came to her. The feeling that she had to move, had to go, had to fight, pushed inside her. “Has anyone checked the cemetery yet? The Rizen crypt?”
“Willow…rest. Buffy went. She said she’d pick up Spike on the way and take him with her.” That eased Willow’s mind a bit. At least Buffy wasn’t alone. Tara’s eyes bore into hers, searching.
“What?”
After a moment she shook her head. “When you’re better.”
“Tara…what?”
The blonde hesitated, trying to find the right words. She tried to harness her emotions of concern in an effort to be gentle with Willow. “It’s not just that you are venturing into darker spells. It’s how absorbed you seem by it lately.”
The words pressed forward and reached into Willow. She closed her eyes but didn't speak immediately. When she did, her voice was just above a whisper. “I know.”
It was true. Deep inside she’d been aware that lately, at times, she’d been neglectful. That she was dropping the ball, not being there as much as she should be. For Tara. For Dawn. For any of them. Her leadership of the Scoobies had been her main focus. Willow had promised herself that soon…soon…she’d make time. She’d do better. The weariness of how hard she’d been pushing for months had been like a lead ball she’d forced herself to carry. Since Buffy…
"I’m sorry. It seems like if it’s not one thing, it’s another. ” Willow shook her head. “I’ll do better. But it feels good, it helps…to be needed.”
Tara’s eyes softened and Willow melted into them. “I need you. I need you to be the person that dances with me on my birthday. I need you to make that WillowMmmgood face when you want to sleep in and snuggle closer to me. I need that over the moon glow in your eyes when you learn something new. I need to watch you lift your chin when you’re afraid but are trying to brave. I need to listen to your heart and hear that it’s still full of conviction. I need…you to be okay,” Tara explained, her voice tremulous.
Just like that, Willow’s soul-leeching exhaustion faded. One word ghosted a sigh into her heart – Always. She wanted this…wanted Tara with her always. Willow blinked at herself, knowing that the grownup meaning of this word was far different than it had been when she had been a girl. Then the redhead felt herself smile. Always; all that word implied, all the work it took, and all the commitments she would have to make. That was precisely what she wanted. “Come here.” She said huskily Tara.
The Wiccan gave a playful look then nuzzled into Willow’s shoulder. The crook between the hacker’s neck and shoulder was Tara’s place. Her arm moved around her the redhead’s waist, quieting all the endless thoughts from which Willow could never find peace. 'Wife,' Willow thought, and a part of her swooned at the idea of it. Tara, my wife. 'Am I really thinking what I think I’m thinking,' she asked herself. As Tara laid down at her side, Willow knew her answer.
Tara’s voice drifted up from somewhere near Willow’s neck. “Just because I’m not immune to the cuddle vibe you’re sending out, doesn’t mean you’re in the clear,”
Willow grinned wearily. “In the clear like glass?” she murmured, trying to start up the game they played sometimes. A simple attempt at association that usually spiralled into tangents, leaving them both giggling at the end of it.
“In your case, stained glass.”
Willow didn’t give up on playing just yet, the child in her peeked down at Tara. “In the clear like…spring water.”
“Clear like that creek by the graveyard.”
“Clear like fairies wings.” The hacker said.
“Clear like…bat wings.” But now the blonde was smiling. Willow’s instinct was to pull Tara closer but moving hurt. Her partner saw the wince of pain and stroked a lock of hair from her brow. Then her hand curved and again traced the fresh cuts on her lover’s cheek.
“Owie.” Willow noted, giving a small pout.
“Owie.” Tara agreed, her lips still curved in an understanding smile.
The redhead tilted her head just enough to look down at her partner. “I wish I’d been able to see Xander. Or even Anya.”
“Whatever it was we heard told us where they are. I don’t think it’s after them. I think they’re okay.”
“You think it’s after us.” The idea that she had somehow put her friends’ lives in danger weighed heavily on her mind. This, she considered, is how Buffy feels. The Scoobies turned to one another. Helped one another. Risked their lives for one another. It was what they did. It didn’t make Willow feel any better. If anything happened to Xander…Xander, who’d know her since she could remember. Her first crush. The one that always knew how to make her laugh. Always defended her. And, until Buffy had come along, her only defender. They still spoke to one another every night, just like they had their entire lives. The topics were different now. The talks were shorter. Anya. Tara. Dawn. College. A job. Thinking about a family. She wondered what he’d say when she told him what she’d been thinking about Tara.
“We were the only ones that heard it when it spoke.” The logic was sound and the redhead nodded. “We’ll see what Buffy finds out.”
‘I should be there,’ Willow thought and without immediately realizing it, she telegraphed the statement to Tara.
‘Do I have to tie you down?,’ Tara said telepathically.
"The injured person requests that the girlfriend re-enter said question for the jury in a couple of days.” The witch said aloud, a vixen-grin on her face.
“The girlfriend will honour said request as long as the injured person in question rests now.” The laughter in Tara’s voice was like rain on the dry land of Willow’s heart. She tilted her head again, this time to get a better look at Tara’s profile. ‘My Tara…thought Willow. My…My wife? Am I REALLY thinking what I think I’m thinking? Tara noticed the look and her smile became quizzical. “What?”
Willow watched her a moment longer before speaking. “I thought that love was an answer to a question. But...I keep falling deeper in love with you. It doesn't stop. Every day you teach me how to love more than I ever thought I could. Sometimes I think I’ve loved you my whole life.” Her love’s eyes became that softer shade of blue they always did right before tears formed. Their lips met in the definition of tenderness. Their arms lifted, wrapping around one another, letting the closeness express all that words were too weak to convey.
Tara pulled away after a few more moments. “I have to make sure they know you’re okay. Everyone was really concerned. Especially Dawnie.” Willow nodded and felt another pang at having worried the teenager, especially after all the young woman had been through in the last few months. “I thought you should rest for a bit but…do you feel up to seeing them now?” Willow nodded. Her partner dropped another kiss on her brow. She didn’t want to go. It was all over her face, in her eyes. Willow understood, she felt the same way. It amazed her that after all this time, the desire to be with Tara, just Tara, could rise up so strongly. They created a haven for one another. Another kiss and then Tara, motivated by their responsibilities, went to go get the others.
She sat up just a bit and settled a pillow behind her back, readying herself for the approaching throng. She got a bit impatient, actually though no time had passed at all. Willow’s eyes began darting around, looking for something to settle on which could occupy her mind briefly. They stopped on a folded piece of paper perched atop the night table nearby. Willow reached for the paper and unfolded it curiously. The writing was hers. It took her a moment to recognize it for what it was. Her first of many unsent letters to Tara, unreceived by her love until recently. When they had moved into Joyce Summer’s bedroom, Tara had found them in a box she was unloading. All fifty-six of them. Tara insisted on not only keeping but having Willow read each and every one out loud to her. The redhead had groaned and been all embarrassed, but in the end, with one word from Tara to convince her, she’d been unable to say no.
“Please.” Tara had said. Willow had turned to jello.
Dear Tara,
I wonder if you know my thoughts reach for you as I go to sleep. Your arms which have never held me move around my waist. Your hair touches my cheek. I kiss you goodnight. My imagination is beginning to fill in all these gaps and all these dreams. I can't tell you. You'd think I'm crazy. We barely know one another. Not to mention you’re the wrong sex…or at least I always thought the wrong sex… for me. I wonder if you can see all the questions in my eyes, when I look at you.
If this was a long time ago, I'd just leap and not worry. Okay that's not true. I've never been good at just leaping. I don't trust myself anymore to know who's safe and who's a big bad wolf. My feelings rise all eagle-like and I don't know if I should stop them or wish them well. Is this even real? Logically, I know attraction happens. Kinsey suggests that most of us have attractions to both men and women. It would be that simple if attraction was all I felt. But I want to let you in. It's been such a long time since I felt like telling someone - open the door to my heart, take a look around. Sit down a while. Be with me. I know I should play more off the cuff. Just relax and don't worry.
Did I mention that I'm dying to know everything about you? But I'm afraid to ask too many questions. You see, if I do, then you might know that I find you irresistible. Most of the time I'm only affected on the surface by what happens around me. There's a wall that I made to keep myself strong. I've seen so much. Horrors and heroes. Things that make me want to curl into a ball on my bed and cry till my heart just fades away. Until I can't feel anymore. But my friends need me and there's never any time.
When I'm with you, time stops. You reach me. Past the walls and into parts I try so hard to hide. I don't know if I should let you find me, or how wise it is to hope you do. I can't put a name to what happening between us. Crush or lust? Maybe even a beginning. Now that's a frightening word. Should I hope? Hope. Another word that scares me.
I can't wait to see you again. I miss you. Is it too soon to say that, let alone mean it more with every moment? I miss you, Tara.
Your friend,
Willow
The door opened and Dawn, Giles, and Buffy entered. Spike hung in the background. Willow accepted Dawn’s hug but her eyes immediately went to the Slayer.
“Buffy, what did you find?”
Her best friend looked uncomfortable and glanced to Giles. The older man stepped forward and took Willow’s hand. “Are you feeling better?”
“I’m fine.” The hacker said and her gaze swept over the room, garnering what little it could. “What’s going on? Is it Xander…”
“No, no,” Giles said and gave a reassuring pat on her hand. “It’s that… ah…Buffy and Spike were unable to enter the crypt. We think there’s some kind of magic keeping out everyone but those who were specifically asked to enter the crypt.”
“Willow and I.” Tara said quietly. The Wiccan nodded and her shoulders straightened as she made a decision. “I’ll go back to the crypt with you.”
“No,” The redhead stated firmly.
Green and blue eyes clashed in a battle of wills. “You’re still very weak.”
“We don’t know what we’re dealing with.” Willow shot back. ”You aren’t going alone.”
The vampire in the hallway smirked and he stepped forward to address the group. “The odds of Red’s squeeze-and-pat getting the spell off are better if Red’s along. We get that taken care of, the rest of us can waltz in. But, if you ladies want to have a cat fight about it, let me know so I can get a good seat.” Tastelessness aside, the logic in Spike’s words seemed to resonate within the group. Everyone was silent.
“Just give me a few minutes.” Willow said finally.
[This message has been edited by mariacomet (edited December 15, 2001).]
by Kieli » Wed Dec 12, 2001 3:38 pm
Looks like Willow is putting on her resolve face but methinks she's going to have some problems when she and Tara sit down to "have a little chat" about her growing magic use.
Ok, now that's said, when are we going to get to the "Willow and Tara join hands and cast spells together" part? *big hopeful grin*
[edited for the *#&$*&#& spelling errors. I need real sleep.]
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"Sometimes, we just can't make it on our own. We all need someone to love us, to help remind us that there's good in the world, to keep us from going crazy."
Willow from Dacia's The Dreamer Awakes
[This message has been edited by Kieli (edited December 12, 2001).]
by RomanceJunky » Wed Dec 12, 2001 6:18 pm
Another great Spike moment (and I'm not a hugh Spike-fan!)..."The odds of Red's squeeze-and-pat getting the spell off are better if Red's along..." such a tackless,Spikeful thing to say!
Wonderful.
The Junky...Thanks...I am all misty...I know you'll understand...
by mollyig » Thu Dec 13, 2001 2:47 am
"I thought that love was an answer to a question. But...I keep falling deeper in love with you. It doesn't stop. Every day you teach me how to love more than I ever thought I could. Sometimes I think I’ve loved you my whole life."
Excellent, truly excellent!
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"To let this love survive would be the greatest gift that we could give"
Emily Saliers (Indigo Girls)
by mariacomet » Tue Dec 18, 2001 11:00 pm
Awake
(First Cycle: Enneagram Part 8/?)
By
Mariacomet
Fear always enters in slowly. The mind has barriers, rationalizations, even arguments that it uses to keep everything calm. Yet logic is often impeded by truth. The fact that boogey men exist, alive and well in the world, makes us look around nervously when walking near dark corners. Some have seen more than other men, looking into the struggles of those things that call themselves good and evil. The ghostly figments just beyond sight that seek to destroy and create – waring since the beginning – weaving the great beyond.
Anya had seen much in her thousand-odd years as a demon. She knew of Kavaa Beasts with their long, flat bodies, and no arms or legs to speak of. The Beast’s head was like a spider’s, melding awkwardly into its slender snake-like form. Its large wings sprouting from it’s torso added to it’s speed and power. The two weaknesses the creature had been given were its lack of size and its shyness. However, mass wasn’t a requirement for killing helpless victims. Anya knew that firsthand.
She had seen these monsters invoked by wishes. They ate slowly, paralysing the victim and then consuming them. She could hear it’s slithering, like a wet towel dragging over cement. The ex-demon had used these Beasts on at least one occasion to assist in torture. The power Anya had once wielded could have easily dealt with nuisances such as these. They were the rats of the demon world. Mindless, hungry rats. A familiar thing that suddenly became a stranger was sometimes the most frightening thing of all. Again, Anya heard the movement, quick accompanied with a soft hiss which broke the cave’s silence. As Mr. Beast had promised, it kept getting closer and closer. They could heard it sliding, the sound was almost rhythmic on the stone floor of the cave – a strange musical instrument of terror.
Anya and Xander had started taking shifts. They were both exhausted. Because Xander, was the man (She was not sure why this was significant with regards to sleep, but he had pointed it out several times) Anya had slept first. He had awakened her several times yelling at the monster, trying to keep it at bay or, even better, frighten it back into its corner. It worked. But not for long. It was a curious little thing. And hungry. It’s palps, prong-like and stretching from its jaw, were twitching excitedly.
Xander had given her as much time to sleep as he could. They had agreed on a couple of hours, but he’d lied. She knew that the moment she had awakened. Sometimes people who love each other lie to one another, he’d told her once. That was confusing for her. She only knew that she wanted to tell him everything. Sweat trickled from her hair down the length of her neck, soaking her shirt. The cave had grown more humid in the last few hours. That made Anya pause – had it been that long? Hours?
He was pulling at the ropes again. Pulling and twisting at them angrily. She had already told him to stop once before. She didn’t want him to bleed.
“’Is the insisting on doing something that’s futile’ a human trait?”
He stopped moving. “We can’t just lie here and do nothing, Anya.”
She didn’t like that his tone was so tired, so quiet. “Buffy will…”
The ex-demon felt him shake his head. “Buffy’s…she’s a little off her game. She’s only been back a little over a week. Besides, we can’t always just wait for Buffy.”
The skidding sound echoed in the cave, for a moment it seemed to come from everywhere until Anya saw eight beady eyes reflecting the torch light that served to illuminate the room. It rose hovering a few feet from her, its jaws opening and closing.
She went very still. Everything was amplified in her terror; the sound of her frantic heart beat, the rush of her breathing, even the cold beads of sweat slipping over her skin. When she’d been a demon, Anya hadn’t thought much about death. Realistically speaking, not that many things existed that could have killed her. Since she’d become human, though she’d seen what death could do. How could there be a person one moment and then next, just a body? She didn’t understand it. It was stupid. But it was real.
The Kavaa demon moved suddenly, twisting forward. Anya cried out. Xander tried to turn toward his bride to be. “Hey! Get away from her!” The young man tried to move, to turn, but he couldn’t see. He could hear the awful hissing, but he couldn’t see the monstrous source. “You know when Buffy finds you, she’s going to skin you and make you into boots. And Willow….Willow’s going cast this spell-o-fire on you. And Tara…she’s, you ever seen her wield an axe? Huh? And Dawn…okay, she’ll probably be home with Spike. Spike will probably laugh about it all but...dammit, get back!” He shouted again and kicked his feet, trying to move, trying to get free.
“It’s not moving back!” His fiancé cried.
“Kick at it. Move around.” Xander felt her obey the request and joined in her yelling for it to get back. “Are you okay? An?”
Her shoulders were heaving, he could feel them behind him. She was trying not to cry, choking them back. “I can’t see it anymore.” The words were the last thing that the young man wanted to hear. “I can hear it. I think it’s not as afraid anymore. I know that when I’m really hungry, I’ll even eat those corny dogs…they scare me but…Xander, it still hasn’t moved back.”
With all his heart, Xander wished he could see. Or could get loose. Or could wear the cuts in her place. He pushed back so he could touch her and somehow reassure her with his warmth. “I’m so sorry…about the ring. About…waiting to tell everyone.”
Anya couldn’t get enough air. The former demon heard it hissing again, like a firecracker about to explode. Which, if memory served, was likely the truth. At a certain point, it would suddenly lunge forward. Motivated by only hunger, no longer restrained by fear. Goosebumps rose on her arms.
“Okay, we’re going to both move at the same time and try to roll over, okay? We’ll just flip us over and then I’ll be facing it.” He tried to sound confident. Xander had heard Buffy give the ‘here’s the plan’ speech a thousand times.
“Then what?”
“Honey, one thing at a time.”
Anya’s whole body was tense, still pushing back almost desperately. “I love you Xander.” She whispered. A moment later she was screaming.
Near the mouth of the cave, Mr. Beast looked back in the direction that the scream had come from and chuckled.
At the crypt marked Rizen, Tara helped Willow sit on the moist ground. Her lover’s face was drawn and pale. Every once in awhile, the redhead stumbled, unable to entirely hold herself steady. Willow was pushing herself, but she was weak…still very weak. Spike began scouting around the entrance, but it was more because he was anxious to do something than because he thought some recon would help.
Laslo crouched down beside his charge. He hadn’t wanted to come here and, more importantly, hadn’t wanted Tara to come. The warrior considered the matter of one or two lives minimal when weighed against the safety of the Soul de Trute. Of course, he knew that his ward would ignore his opinion. He said as much when he first raised his objection. So here they were, waiting for Willow to gather a little more strength before implementing phase one of the plan to rescue Xander and Anya.
“Just…just give me a minute.” Willow requested. Tara sat beside her and Willow took the opportunity to lean against her.
The vampire was still pacing around. He glanced at Laslo. “What the bloody hell is a KOTWC anyway?”
The knight didn’t bother to look at the speaker. “It is, I believe, the initials of the English wording for Knights of the White Cross.” Emotions swirled behind the words and Tara felt it.
“So what’s a Knight of the White Cross?” Buffy asked.
Laslo got that cornered look to him. He straightened, rising to stand at attention near Tara, his attention on the graveyard surrounding them, more than on any of the Scoobies.
“You don’t remember do you?” The blonde Wiccan asked quietly.
“No, “ Laslo said, answering her quietly, “ but every time I have been awakened, I bear some insignia of them.” The words held the frustration of someone that had repeatedly hit a wall, unable to get past it, helpless to stop from hitting it again.
Spike was still looking at the knight, thinking, then a twinkle settled in his gaze. ”Well…I remember.” Everyone looked to him. “Not from actually being there…” The knight turned toward him slowly, waiting just as everyone else was. “We bumpy faces are usually the loner type, and…too chaotic to band together too long. But…a few times we almost pulled it off. There was a big bad named Landimere. They say he formed an army of 1000 round about the 13th century. They say Landimere had an alliance with some duke, and that the alliance nearly scrapped a quarter of England. Story is, Landimere and his brutes were having a merry time of it in some little town. They’d met no resistance, so they just…,” He smirked, “settled in.”
Buffy folded her arms across her chest obviously disliking the tale. “They killed everyone.” Anger boiled in her gaze.
Spike shrugged, not quite sure if he liked the look in her eyes. “Let’s not stake the messenger.” The Slayer snorted and shook her head sadly. “Sides…they never got a chance. They say the Knights of the White Cross set fire to the town. Even while people were still scampering for their lives. Gave up the people to get at the vamps.”
The knight’s hands rolled into fists, then relaxed. “Did it work?”
Spike tilted his head to one side, trying to read the man’s expression. “So I heard.”
“Then it was a sound strategy.” Laslo said after a moment. His face was devoid of emotion, but he sounded haunted, like he had misplaced something and the memory of where it was lay just out of reach.
“What…if those people could have been saved…” Tara asked.
“Sometimes sacrifices must be made.” Her guardian retorted.
This answer disturbed Tara more than she wanted to admit. It was his whole philosophy. More and more Tara suspected that he was trying to push her into adopting his idea of the big picture. Good and evil in the eyes of Laslo Castille eyes were sorted in neat little piles. The Soul De Trute was the ultimate good was not meant to be tainted by associations with questionable allies. She could almost hear the words, even though he had never spoken them. Laslo had implied it, besides his eyes said enough. This situation with Xander and Anya he considered to be none of their business. The Soul of Truth should not be risked on such inconveniences; she was meant to do greater things, if she even was who he thought she was. Laslo had yet to show even an inkling of doubt.
“But…isn’t it arrogant to assume that you have the right to make that decision? Shouldn’t they have,” she shifted nervously, “had a say?”
Willow, her cheeks now a much more normal pallor, “That’s telling him, baby.”
Laslo spared the redhead a glance then looked back to Tara. “Hard choices must be made sometimes. In times of war. In times of need. That is the way of things.” His grey eyes were superior, as if he had wells of knowledge that she didn’t.
“And on that note,” Willow murmured and struggled to her feet. Her partner moved as she did, setting a hand under her elbow and helping her.
The blonde glanced to the crypt then took in a deep breath, bolstering her courage. Together, she and Willow started forward. Spike, Laslo and Buffy followed them toward the doorway of the crypt.
Buffy had explained that when they had come here before, she and Spike had tried to enter the doorway and been thrown a good ten feet for their troubles. All the Scoobies that were present exchanged looks. “So…how far did you say this thing threw you back? Was it…ow or mega ow?” Willow asked.
“Medium ow.” Buffy said.
“Mega Ow.” Spike said at the same time. Buffy smacked her palm against his stomach. Hard. “It was happy, fluffy ow.” He gritted, reacting to the pain of the hit. “Really. Gonna recommend it to all my friends.”
Willow reached her free hand forward slowly, feeling for a barrier. The idea that Tara might soon be put in harm’s way made the redhead move more gradually then she normally would have. She was concerned that her fingertips would find nothing. At the same time she feared what would happen next, if something WAS there. If Willow hadn’t still been weak, part of her would have been thrilled, like an explorer about to solve a puzzle. Just as represented though, would be her ever present fear that she might be too late to stop an evil from hurting those she loved. Remaining a step behind when timing was critical. Reacting weakly when strength was called for.
The witch’s hand felt something; like a charge or a spark, and she watched as her hand disappeared. Quickly Willow drew back, wriggling the digits of her reappearing fingers, making sure all was as it should be. “Well…we found the door. Looks like it’s letting me through.”
The blonde mimicked the gesture and found her own palm slipping through into something…somewhere. “I guess I’m invited too.” Tara said.
The knight behind them scowled at the doorway. “I suppose I’d be ignored if I said…” Everyone gave him the same long look. His mouth twisted and he sighed. “Yes, of course I’d be ignored. Please enjoy invading the Crypt of unknown fate.”
“You two just worry about the wall down and getting the rest of us inside.” The slayer ordered. “No wandering. No matter what you do or don’t hear.” She set her hands on her hips. “You don’t get the wall down in five minutes, you come back out. Got it?”
“Five minutes.” The knight repeated, then looked uncertain. “Is that a long time?” The question was serious. At Buffy’s confused look he shrugged. “You have to understand that many of my Awakenings have been very brief.” His voice was loud and defensive. Laslo didn’t seem to like admitting the next part, but it was relevant so he continued. “I’m not very good with time.”
“We’ll add that to the list.” Buffy said, but it was a mild taunt. “It’s not long. I’ll let you know.”
Willow reached for Tara’s hand. “You ready?” In answer, her partner took a step forward but Willow pulled her back. Their eyes met and the redhead simply linked their fingers together, squeezing her lover’s hand. Willow leaned in, kissing Tara tenderly. “No matter what happens. Okay?” The words were slow and firm.
Tara’s eyes burned with the unrestrained hope known only to those who have surrendered their hearts to another. “No matter what happens.” She whispered back.
The kiss between Willow and Tara seemed to dispel the usual arrogance with which Laslo carried himself. In its place, his expression had a quality of youth; idealistic youth that was suddenly shattered. This was the face of a man who had just watched a boyhood hero tumble from a pedestal to the awful dust of mortality. His grey eyes were shell-shocked, narrowing then widening and then narrowing again. Surprise was an understatement for the emotion that seemed to steamroll over him. As he stared at the witches, his entire body slumped, as if the wind had been knocked out of him. The knight stepped forward, his lips open as if about to ask a question, one hand on his sword. He was too late. As one, the witches stepped into nothingness.
[This message has been edited by mariacomet (edited December 20, 2001).]
by mollyig » Wed Dec 19, 2001 1:54 am
Tara’s eyes burned with the unrestrained hope known only to those who have surrendered their hearts to another.
------------------
"To let this love survive would be the greatest gift that we could give"
Emily Saliers (Indigo Girls)
by KittyKo » Wed Dec 19, 2001 6:09 am
by nika » Wed Dec 19, 2001 7:54 am
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"Eat lot's of applesauce, preferably fed to you by attractive young lesbians." Amber Benson
by emily 'first' » Wed Dec 19, 2001 12:19 pm
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vive,valeque.
by Kieli » Wed Dec 19, 2001 3:11 pm
K
------------------
"Sometimes, we just can't make it on our own. We all need someone to love us, to help remind us that there's good in the world, to keep us from going crazy."
Willow from Dacia's The Dreamer Awakes
by Puff » Wed Dec 19, 2001 5:12 pm
------------------
Bloody hell, sodding, limey, shagging, knickers, bollocks...oh God...I'm English
by Rane » Wed Dec 19, 2001 10:29 pm
THAT was hilarious, MC! great update to see what's going on with X/A and the ending was very cool, sweet W/T. sigh...
by mariacomet » Thu Dec 20, 2001 4:35 pm
I'd like to give each and everyone of you who have managed the journey so far a holiday gift - but I asked my bank account and it gave a resounding no. So I'm going to have to stick with a big THANK YOU to everyone.
I do have something up my sleeve though. I have a Holiday/Christmas/New Year's eve present in mind that I think you all might like. I MIGHT even be able to actually get done BEFORE the holidays are over. I'm still thinking out all the details, but at the very least you all will get first dibs.
Happy Holidays everyone!
[This message has been edited by mariacomet (edited December 20, 2001).]
by RomanceJunky » Thu Dec 20, 2001 6:24 pm
Finally got to read the lastest part, and thought it was wonderful! I was starting to get a bit worried about Anya and Xander, but now...I still am! Loved the Buffy/Spike interplay, "It was happy, fluffy ow." He gritted, reacting to the pain of the hit. "Really. Gonna recommend it to all my friends." LOL!! I also really liked Laslo's reaction to seeing Willow and Tara kiss...Seems he got a bit of a rude "Awakening" this time...
RJ...Worried about the girls...
by mariacomet » Sun Dec 23, 2001 1:09 pm
Well...as promised, I thought I would go ahead and post a link to a VERY VERY VERY rough copy of my next piece. I'll eventually post on the boards. You all get a sneak preview. Please remember that this is VERY much a work in progress.
[This message has been edited by mariacomet (edited December 23, 2001).]
by xita » Mon Dec 24, 2001 2:54 am
by RomanceJunky » Mon Dec 24, 2001 7:14 am
guess I'll have to call you 'MC squared' from now on! This is a most excellent start, and I can't wait to see the rest of it! Have you been holdin' out on me Darlin'?
RJ...(YW...)
by mariacomet » Mon Dec 24, 2001 9:40 am
RJ - I would never hold anything back from you, darling. I am utterly at your service. I do recall, however, someone telling me that they like surprises? - MC (YT)
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