Deena, you should see the rest of the pieces Liz did for that. They're all amazing.

(and I got to beeeeeeta them, she said with intolerable smugness)

I've actually never read anything long in 2nd person that I liked.

t has traumatic Bright Lights Big City flashbacks

I read that and During the Reign of the Queen of Persia (possibly am mangling that title, it's been a while) in one long playing-with-POV-and-style weekend....

Thanks, Deena, love.

I'd love to see the rest. Where?

I've actually never read anything long in 2nd person that I liked.

[has traumatic Bright Lights Big City flashbacks]

That's EXACTLY the execrable book I was thinking of when I said that!

I'd love to see the rest. Where?

Not posted yet anywhere. I wrote most of it a while ago, and was just working on the fourth and hardest section last night. I had deb in AIM convincing me to finish it.

I had deb in AIM convincing me to finish it.

I was evil, and wore leather, and bullied her mercilessly.

Because damn, it's a splendid set of pieces, all of it. And the fourth piece, definitely the most difficult in theme and execution, but, well, I have faith in my Lizard.

Okay, I want to read it whenever you're ready. Though, I'm sure that's a given. Go Deb in the leather.

taking a break, my fingers have given out on me. later lovelies.

That fragment was haunting, Lizard. I've never liked second, but this was arresting, poised, as you say, between first and third.

I'd really like to read when it's done.

It's not part of a longer piece about Vampire!Willow, though-- it's no. two from my Five Things that Didn't Happen to Willow fic. It's my favorite of the sections, and it was by far the easiest to write.

That's been, in my head, how the story of Wishverse Willow went. I started this epic Story of Vamp!Willow that made it all the way to the morning before she got vamped before I got bored and frustrated.

Any comments on this are welcome. I've worked on the pacing of the first section, thanks to beta comments, and it'd be great to know if it works.

Title: The Waiting Room
Crossover: Buffy/Sandman

Death is not at all what Buffy expected.

There's the pain from the gashes in her neck, and there's the water burning in her lungs, and there's the thought that her mother will never understand...

...and then there's light.

She opens her eyes, and it's a bit of a surprise to find herself in someone's living room. Or maybe someone's grandmother's living room. She's sitting on a nice plush couch as the hem of her dress drips water on an equally plush carpet. Flowered wallpaper covers the walls, pretty and unobtrusive, and a row of framed pictures lines one wall. She sees a book and a heart, and one painting that seems to shift and move and walk across her eyes, but before she can make out many details, she realizes she's not alone.

"Hey," she says to the girl sitting next to her.

"Hey," says the girl, and smiles. But she doesn't say anything else; she just sits there, staring at Buffy without a hint of rudeness.

"We're dead, right?" Buffy asks, surprised at how calm she is.

"You are," the girl replies. "For me, it's a little more complicated." Her skin is so pale it almost glows, and Buffy thinks her black hair must have had help from Clairol. Her clothing is just as dark, a sleeveless blouse and a frilly skirt, and there's some kind of symbol hanging from a chain around her neck.

"This isn't really what I expected," Buffy says.

"What did you expect?"

Buffy shrugs, and fabric tugs on her shoulders. The room is cool, but not uncomfortable, even though her skin is chilled from the damp dress. "I'm not sure. Pearly Gates, maybe. Or Charlton Heston."

"Ben-Hur?"

"Ten Commandments."

"Gotcha," says the girl. "Give it a few years, and maybe I'll hire him as the doorman." She looks down at the puddle of water forming under Buffy's feet. "Do you need a blanket or something?"

"No, I'm okay," Buffy says. "I mean, I look -- and possibly smell -- like somebody's wet dog, but I'm okay." It's when she pulls the hem of her dress up to her nose to sniff it that she realizes she's not actually breathing. It makes perfect sense. She's dead. Of course she's not breathing.

"I like your dress."

"Thanks," she says. "I've been getting that a lot. My mom picked it out." Her mother, who will never understand when her daughter is found dead in the Sunnydale sewers. She will not understand how Buffy drowned, or why there are two small wounds in her neck, or what she was doing down there in the first place instead of attending the Spring Fling. She'd never looked forward to her mother's inevitable discovery of her secret life, but she'd always expected to have that discussion someday. She'd also hoped to reach her eighteenth birthday, and get her driver's license, and find out how Angel really felt about her.

She'll never meet Willow's first boyfriend. She'll never see if Xander forgives her for not going to the dance with him. She'll never get a chance to thank Giles for everything.

Giles will never forgive himself.

She's just about decided in favor of a hysterical fit when the girl interrupts her. "I wouldn't worry too much," she says. "You'll get your chances."

"What? How did you know what I was thinking?"

"Occupational hazard."