Lydia: But you are a vampire. Spike: If I'm not, I'm gonna be pissed about drinking all that blood.

'Potential'


Buffista Fic: It Could Be Plot Bunnies  

Where the Buffistas let their fanfic creative juices flow. May contain erotica.


deborah grabien - Sep 19, 2003 8:49:32 pm PDT #6689 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.

DAGMAR?!?!?!?

O lordylordlord, a beautiful injoke for me. Because the wife of the man who invented the noise reduction system company for which I worked for a few years - a company that rhymes with Shmolby - is called Dagmar.

Oh yes. A chestnut gelding named Dagmar. Must consider this...


victor infante - Sep 19, 2003 9:03:02 pm PDT #6690 of 10001
To understand what happened at the diner, we shall use Mr. Papaya! This is upsetting because he's the friendliest of fruits.

Dagmar is lovely, As is Chestnut. I think if she were going with the Authorian theme, from what little I'm gathering, the horse should be straight up Lancelot.


Beverly - Sep 19, 2003 9:12:48 pm PDT #6691 of 10001
Days shrink and grow cold, sunlight through leaves is my song. Winter is long.

I like Dagmar. It sounds like Char.

And I am for falling into bed. 'Morrow.


P.M. Marc - Sep 19, 2003 10:03:03 pm PDT #6692 of 10001
So come, my friends, be not afraid/We are so lightly here/It is in love that we are made; In love we disappear

Dagmar.

Modern times? One of these for her.


deborah grabien - Sep 20, 2003 7:32:44 am PDT #6693 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.

Oh. my. word.

Those are totally Charlotte horses. Hungarian warmbloods? And they're humongous, too.

Jeeeez. I haven't been on horseback since Jo was a baby in London, but I am lusting after one of those.

Victor, Char's - unique. She has a sort of thing where she says anything that comes into her head, and the first take is to assume it's because she's a privileged wellborn twit. But she's not a twit, and she's very wam. First time she meets my protagonist, Ringan, she tells him, pumping his hand, that she wants to take him behind a car and shag him. Ringan's girlfriend comes to love her, rather fiercely. Char would totally call a horse Dagmar.

But I think a mare for the Hungarian warmblood, because I want one who is generally placid for this scene, to take Char by surprise.

And I've just realised, I'm in fic, not Great Write. Argh! Sorry...


victor infante - Sep 20, 2003 7:34:48 am PDT #6694 of 10001
To understand what happened at the diner, we shall use Mr. Papaya! This is upsetting because he's the friendliest of fruits.

I get it. And Dagmar's a lovely name.


erikaj - Sep 20, 2003 9:43:12 am PDT #6695 of 10001
Always Anti-fascist!

Well, not *quite* effortless, but more like taking dictation than any writing I've ever done. And my ex-roommate sounded a lot like Kay, well, if Kay cursed in Italian. I just thought that now. "Deja vu all over again,"And no, she didn't walk a beat, but she did "cocktail" for a lot of years...I'd rather work homicide. And I just read "Homicide: A Year On The Killing Streets" Which is so much better written than any other crime book, ever, that I consider it the OTCB.(One True Crime Book)


Connie Neil - Sep 20, 2003 5:38:29 pm PDT #6696 of 10001
brillig

Guess what? It's done. "Career Change." If I didn't know there was a sequel coming I'd be in tears. And so, for your reading pleasure, the final section of V!Giles. For now.

The stories were told over a scraped together breakfast in the common room. Willow talked most, describing the siege, the arrows, the loss of Anya.

"He--he made a deal with D'Hoffryn?" Buffy repeated. "Her life for--whatever D'Hoffryn wants?" Willow nodded solemnly. "Well, we'll have to get him out of it."

"I don't know that we can, honey," Joyce said. "He agreed, even after Spike tried to talk him out of it. Anya's life was on the line, and he agreed."

"Was she really dying?" Dawn whispered from where she sat as close to her mother as she could. Joyce nodded sadly.

"I don't care," Buffy said. "No demon gets to use my friends like a bar bet. I'll find D'Hoffryn and get this settled." Sadness replaced the resolve. "He was really going to ask her to marry him?"

Willow nodded. "He said he was paying for a ring and everything."

Dawn licked her lips. "Can't they--you know . . . anyway? She's not dead."

Buffy hugged her. "I don't know, Dawnie. The full-fledged vengeance demon thing might be a bit of a crimp."

"Spiked offered to turn her into a vampire instead and lend us the orb to put her soul back," Willow added. "I think Xander was thinking about it."

"It was that or watch her die," Joyce said softly. "Poor boy."

"It was an accident?" Buffy asked. "They didn't aim at her specifically?"

Willow nodded, but Tara frowned. "I don't think the Knights cared either way, if they hit someone or not." She shivered. "That one soldier--I think he meant to--he was swinging his sword at me . . ." Willow hugged her tight.

Buffy looked confused. "A soldier tried to hurt you? What happened?"

It took Willow a long time to answer. "Xander shot him. Shot him d--dead."

"The one by the chapel?" Buffy whispered.

"I was going to stop him! I was, I just couldn't think--Xander shouldn't have--"

Tara put her finger across Willow's lips. "Sweetheart, there wasn't time. That sword was so close . . . if Xander hadn't, I'd . . ." She put her head on Willow's shoulder, and Willow hid her face in her lover's hair.

"Xander's been through a great deal tonight," Joyce said. "He did the best he could."

"He still shouldn't have sicced Spike on those soldiers," Willow muttered.

"What?" Buffy said. "*Xander* sent Spike out? Against humans?"

"He went all scary, Buffy. He kept saying things like the Knights knew what they were getting into and stuff."

"He told Spike to hurt people?"

"Like Spike would need to be told," Dawn said. She saw everyone staring at her. "What?"

Buffy frowned thoughtfully. "Spike was doing what Xander told him to? He wasn't running wild on his own? Why?"

Willow shrugged. "It was weird, the two of them working together. They seemed to know what each other was thinking. Xander gave orders, and Spike even saluted."

Buffy shook her head, unable to get her head around the concept of Spike and Xander on the same side.

They talked until adrenal withdrawal and lack of sleep threatened to drop them in their seats. Dawn was unashamedly yawning against Joyce's shoulder, and Joyce was blinking and shifting uncomfortably in her hard chair. They silently and unanimously agreed to table further discussions until they'd had a few hours' uninterrupted sleep. At the door of Willow and Tara's room, though, they all paused on seeing Anya's belongings piled on the bed she'd claimed.

"Should--should we pack them up?" Tara suggested. "Or leave them for Xander?"

"We'll pack them later," Joyce said firmly. "After we've had some sleep. We can leave them for now."

Dawn blinked rapidly. "I mean--it's not like she's dead, right? She's still going to want her stuff, right? Wherever she's at?"

"Right," Buffy agreed. She frowned and looked across the hall into the Summers room, which was also empty. "Where is he, anyway?"

"He might still be in the chapel," Willow said. "He likes it in there. I think he probably wants to be alone right now. Oh, god." She bit her lip suddenly. "I remember, a couple of weeks ago, he was going on about not knowing any guys and how if he ever got married I was going to have to be his best person."

Tara tugged her into the room, whispering soothingly. Joyce gathered her daughters as well as she could while maneuvering the walker, and they went into the other room, closing the door behind them. Dawn helped Joyce balance as she sat down on her bed with a grateful sigh.

"I don't think I've ever been this tired in my life," Joyce said.

Dawn nodded. "And I even got some sleep. Though it may not count, because that was in another world."

Joyce shook her head. "You were on a different world. It's so--odd." Dawn tried to think of something to say but could only shrug and nod again.


Connie Neil - Sep 20, 2003 5:39:02 pm PDT #6697 of 10001
brillig

Buffy stayed by the door, watching her mother and sister. They were safe. Glory was gone, the world was rescued from Apocalypse yet again, and Dawn was safe. They'd won. It got more and more bizarre every time it happened, and she couldn't help wondering how long the odds were getting on the big Slayer Life Expectancy board. She'd beat back the end of the world this time, would the next one finish her? How many more was she going to have to go through until history caught up with her and Faith took on the title of In Every Generation There is Only One.

"Honey?" Joyce said softly. "Buffy?"

"Huh?" She blinked and paid attention again. Joyce was settled back on the bed, with Dawn curled up next to her, already drifting into sleep.

"It's a big bed, if you wanted to get some sleep."

"I should go see if I can help clean up, we shouldn't leave the sisters to take care of all that."

Joyce threw her the tired version of the mom look. "You had a hard fight there. You need to rest. Now come on."

Buffy didn't want to argue further. There was enough room between Dawn and the edge of the bed to settle down comfortably, and Buffy was able to reach over and take her mother's hand while holding on to her sister. Joyce was asleep in moments.

"Don't steal the pillow," Dawn muttered, half-asleep.

"OK." Buffy brushed Dawn's hair back and blinked back tears. "You're still here." Dawn stiffened just a little. "No Key goes poof. I guess we're stuck with you."

"Sorry," Dawn whispered.

Buffy kissed the top of her head. "Guess we'll just have to deal. Oh, well."

"Yeah."

Many hours later, Buffy woke up. Dawn and her mother were still deeply asleep, but the Slayer recuperative powers had jumpstarted her system and she couldn't lay still any longer. Sense of duty and certain bodily requirements pushed her up into action, especially when she caught a whiff of herself. She found clean clothes in her duffle bag and went for an exploration of the personal hygiene potential of the convent.

A shower and sleep made the whole Glory battle feel a little more safely historical, a bit less like an aching wound. She went off in search of Sister Agnes to see if there was anything she could do to help clean up.

All the bodies were gone from the courtyard. Cleaner patches marked places where bloodstained dirt and been removed and replaced. There were a lot of those patches.

There was no sound from the bus as Buffy walked past as silently as she could. Were they asleep? Whispering the tales of the night to each other too quietly for any but vampires to hear? She moved a little quicker, not wanting to think thoughts that might lead to decisions she couldn't contemplate just yet.

The signs of battle were still present outside the walls. The Minoto demons were busy digging up dark, sticky looking clumps of dirt and dumping them into wheelbarrows, then shoveling clean dirt into the holes. The bodies were gone from here too. All the Knights' equipment, however, was being sorted into piles by some of the younger nuns, and Sister Dymphna was tending to the herd of horses left behind. Sister Agnes was helping, though her talents in animal husbandry seemed to be limited to brushing.

Buffy walked up slowly, careful not to startle the skittish creatures. She held up a hand to be sniffed by the horse Sister Agnes was brushing. The horse considered her suspiciously and tossed its head once before allowing her to stroke its nose.

Sister Agnes looked up and smiled. "Good afternoon, Buffy. How are you?"

"Still tired. Have you and the others had any rest? Can I do anything to help?"

"I think we have most everything taken care of." She patted Buffy's shoulder. "We spent the night in prayer, for the most part. Nothing like you and the others. We're fine."

Sister Dymphna came up, wiping her forehead. ''There's enough feed in their packs for a couple of days, but we'll have to think of something to do with them. What are we going to do with thirty some war horses?"

"eBay?" Buffy said without thinking. "Never mind," she added at the baffled looks of the two nuns who lived in a place so isolated they didn't even bother with electricity. "Aren't there rangers or something at the national forest?"

Sister Agnes frowned. "Somehow I don't think bringing this to the attention of the rangers would be a good idea. Are there more of the Knights somewhere? A monastery we should contact?"

"I don't know. Giles might--" She was silent for several moment. "Stupid reflex."

"He might know. I'll ask him before you leave. Do you know when that will be?"

Buffy looked out over the quiet valley, wishing she could stay and listen to birdsong and the wind in the leaves for days and days without having to think of everything she'd put aside till "after Glory." She took a deep breath, held it for several seconds, then let it out. "I should say, tonight, but they're all still exhausted. Tomorrow? Do you want us gone sooner?"

"Oh, nina." Sister Agnes wrapped her in a tight hug. "You will stay as long as you want to. You all need time to rest and heal."

Buffy hugged her back and stared over her shoulder at the late afternoon sunlight on the trees. "What do I do now, sister? What do I do about Giles and Spike?"

"Nina . . . I don't know."

"They're soulless monsters. It's in the definition. And they fought as hard as the rest of us last night. I think it's because neither of them wanted the world to end, but . . ." She closed her eyes. "I don't know either."

"Can it wait until you get home?"

"It going to have to, I guess. Xander's the only other one who can drive the bus, and I've still got to get everybody home." Her mind shied away from the whole thing of Xander and Anya and what Xander had done in the night. "


Connie Neil - Sep 20, 2003 5:39:48 pm PDT #6698 of 10001
brillig

Sister Agnes sighed. "I told him he didn't have to, but he insisted on helping." She nodded up the slope, towards the olive grove and the convent's graveyard.

Buffy walked slowly up the hill. There were two big spots of dug-up earth. Mass graves. It made sense, she guess, but it bothered her.

Something glittery caught her eye at the larger grave. When she got closer, she saw that the Knights' swords had been planted around the grave, point down. A fancier sword stood in the middle of the line of swords at the top. Xander was at the bottom edge, carefully setting the last few swords in place. Baynar sat at the foot of a nearby olive tree, watching.

Xander straightened and considered his work. "That should do. What do you think?" he asked, looking at Baynar, who chittered and nodded.

"It looks nice," Buffy said, coming up quietly.

Baynar squeaked and went to hide behind Xander's legs. Xander smiled and patted the little demon's shoulder. "It's okay, dude, she's one of the good guys. He's still a little rattled," he added to Buffy.

"A lot of us are." She looked at the other grave. "Is that . . ."

"Glory and her folks, yeah." He reached down for the shovel that was laying under the tree. "Savlin and the others had all the digging and carrying done by the time I got up, so I helped with the filling in."

"We ought to put something up for Ben."

Xander nodded but made no move. He leaned on the end of the shovel and stared at the Knights' grave within its fence of swords.

Buffy wanted to say something about the fight, ask if he couldn't have found some other way. The look on his face, though, said it would only be one more accusation he didn't need.

"I should have been here," she sighed.

"I don't know if it would have been any different."

"It might have."

"Maybe. But you *weren't* here."

She flinched. "I know. I'm sorry."

He sighed and looked at her. "Being sorry makes no difference. You went with Dawn, you had good reason to. You couldn't be here. You left me in charge. I did what I had to."

"Did you? Have to?"

He turned back to the grave. "Seemed right at the time."

"Including siccing Spike on humans?"

His eyes went to some un-Xanderish place. "He offered to go to keep me from opening up on them. He probably did less damage than I would have. He was having fun. I would have been serious." Buffy gave a breath of disbelief, and he smiled at her very faintly. "You weren't here. Shit happens."

"And D'Hoffryn?"

"I did what I had to."

"He could ask for anything. Xander, you can't go through--" She stopped at the look he gave her.

"I made a deal. Anya's still alive. I'm not digging a grave for her up here. Whatever D'Hoffryn asks me to do has to be better than digging a hole and dropping the body of the woman I love into it."

Down by his knee, Baynar squeaked and hugged his leg. Xander looked down and patted his head. "Sorry, guy," he said more softly. "Didn't mean to get all angsty in front of you. You ought to go find your mom, I bet she's looking for you." Baynar frowned at him, then at Buffy, then ran down the hill to the convent. "Shouldn't fight in front of the kids," Xander said.

"Yeah." She looked back towards Glory's grave. "I don't think I ever knew Ben's last name."

"At least you knew his name." The wind rustled the leaves above them, and Xander looked up. "Sun's going down. A couple of somebody's are probably just about to make an appearance."

Buffy closed her eyes and shook her head. "I don't know what to do about them." After a couple of silent moments, she looked over at Xander. He was still staring out over the valley and the lengthening shadows. "Yesterday you seemed like you knew what should happen now."

He frowned a little. "Was that just yesterday?" His faint smile was painful to see. "That guy? The world was a simple place to him. Vampires evil, humans good, kill the demons. Today? Not so simple. You're the Slayer, Buffy. What should the Slayer do?"

"I know what the Slayer should do. But I don't know what Buffy should do."