You think I'm completely wrong, but you fictionalized my wank? I'm touched.

I also loved the story ita, and Slayer-shagger had me choking.

You think I'm completely wrong, but you fictionalized my wank?

I'm multi-faceted like that, I guess.

Multi-faceted, yet another synonym for sparkly. I really liked the story (too bad ME didn't tell us that).

Anne, I commented in your LJ but I didn't know it was you, I was just following Plei's link. I was reading the challenge stories here (and enjoying them very much) and the nickel finally dropped. So ... sorry if I seemed strange in my comment.

I haven't killed anyone yet in any of my stories. Probably because when they die they stop hurting--unless you follow them into the afterlife and start inflicting the *really* creative tortures on their asses.

slowly, slowly, it all comes together. More V!Giles

Repetition did not make portal travel any better. Dawn squinted her eyes until she could just barely see which way she was going, because it was better than seeing the things pulsing in the walls. She ran just as fast as she could, desperate to get back to Buffy and her mother. There were footsteps behind her, but more than just Giles' steps.

A golden light appeared ahead, dawn's light. Go to the light. The light at the end of the tunnel. Is sometimes an oncoming train. Dawn stumbled on exiting the portal, a hand grabbed her arm to pull her up, and she screamed when she saw the bloody, bruised, crazed face of Glory.

Glory shook her. "Don't bother, kid. You're mine, and I'm starving." She clamped her hands around Dawn's head. "Shut up! You wouldn't even exist if it weren't for me!"

Dawn felt a dreadful hollow sucking in her head, and the world began to dim. Glory's eyes bored into hers. A strange green haze fell over Dawn's fading vision, and she thought, "She's right, if not for her I wouldn't exist. It almost makes sense, her taking me." It hurt, though, and she whimpered.

Glory suddenly screeched and let go. Dawn fell, gasping. Blinking hard, she saw Buffy, her face blood-streaked, clinging to Glory's leg.

"Get off, bitch!" Glory kicked at Buffy, who grabbed that foot and yanked. Glory hit the ground hard.

"Dawn," Buffy gasped, "get into the chapel."

Dawn started to crawl away, then Glory grabbed her ankle. Gasping in terror, Dawn tried to dig her fingers into the dirt, but the hellgod dragged her closer. Fingernails dug into her leg as the inhumanly strong fingers clamped down. Dawn tried to bat away the hands that clawed at her, even as Buffy tried to get to her feet. Glory kicked at Buffy, knocking her over, then, grinning, reached up to clamp her hand over Dawn's face again.

Until a gleaming swordblade slashed down between them, slamming into Glory's wrist and knocking the arm, regretfully intact, away. Glory yelled in pain and Dawn scrambled away just as fast as she could.

Glory looked up and snarled. Giles leveled his sword, the point just a few inches from her face. "Stop that," he said calmly.

I know, I know, it's short, but I've got this last battle to choreograph, then it's time for the denoument. Damn I hate finishing things.

Oo, connie. I like it. Especially Giles.

JS, what's your LJ user name? It was sweet of you to leave a comment for me. I've been absolutely giddy about all of the positive feedback I've been getting.

Connie, this:

"Stop that," he said calmly.

is perfect Giles. I can't wait to see what happens as you wind things up.

Anne, I'm "hereward" on LJ. I'm glad to hear that you are pleased with your feedback. I hope it is part of your inspiration to write more! [grin]

Reponse to Cindy's half-hour challenge. Pretty much straight through.

Buffy opened the door slowly, the chain on, wanting to see before she was seen.

For a moment, she didn't quite believe it. "Wesley?"

He nodded. "Buffy, we need to talk."

"About what?" she asked.

"What's happening. The prophecy. Everything," he said, and leaned on the doorframe. "Can I come in, Buffy, please? I've been on the road for three days, looking for you."

"I didn't want to be easy to find," she told him, but she took the chain off and stood back. "Are you sure you're not a vampire?"

In silence, he walked past her. "It wouldn't matter if I was. This isn't your home."

"Closest thing I've got," she shrugged. "It does. Bed, chair, space to swing an axe in."

"You're still practising, then? That's good," he said, without waiting for an answer. "We'll need that."

"Okay, Wes. Square with me. What's going on?"

"Guess." She looked at him, taking in the unshaven chin, the haunted eyes, and the ragged clothes.

"Big war, lots of fighting, time for a Slayer to save the world?"

"That's right."

"Well, you can go and find yourself some other girl. There's thousands out there with Slayer powers now; I'm no better than any of them."

"None of them have your... experience."

"Then they can get some. I have stuff to do."

"Like what, Buffy? Stamp on cockroaches?"

"For example," she agreed, putting her booted foot on one that had haplessly crawled out from under a cupboard. "And a job to go to-- waitressing-- and a free evening class. That sort of thing."

Wesley simply looked at her.

"Nothing I can't leave if I have to, but I'd rather not. You never answered my question."

"I can tell you the details in the car. We have to be going."

"No, we don't."

"I'll never understand," Wesley sighed, "how Giles put up with you."

"He saw my inner light," Buffy said, facetiously.

"I'm sure. In short, then: Angel Investigations has taken over Wolfram and Hart. Angel can't deal with running something that large. Gunn's quit. Fred can't be dragged out of her lab. Cordy can't be dragged out of her coma. There's a prophecy that says Spike will come back from wherever he's gone. It goes on to say that he will cause an apocalypse, but it doesn't say how."

"I don't see what I can do to help." Buffy suddenly became aware that they were still just standing there, inside the door. She moved to sit down.

"No, Buffy," Wesley said, and she changed her mind, turning back towards him. "You can lead, Buffy. You can get the Watcher's Council to help us. You can get Willow to help us. The younger Slayers will follow you."

She shook her head, and flopped into the musty armchair. "Wrong, Wesley. I can't lead, they won't follow, Willow's gone her own way, and there is no Watcher's Council. Go back to your law firm and think of someone else to ask."

"Buffy, there is nobody else. You have to help me."

"No, I don't. You have to help you."

"I'm sorry?"

"You really aren't," Buffy said. "I mean, if none of the others can lead, then you'll have to. It's the only reason anyone's ever followed me: none of them could lead."

"I can't."

"That's what I thought."

"Okay, Buffy, you don't want to help, that's fine." He put his hand on the doorknob.

"You don't get it, do you?" Buffy said, standing again. "I am helping you. I'm telling you what I've learnt. You were in charge of Angel Investigations, weren't you? I remember Willow telling me something about that. You can take charge, if that's what's needed."

He nodded, as if he got it, and opened the door. "Will you come with me? Show me how?"

"I already did that," she said, and shut the door in his face.

edited following a spellcheck