After The Slaying: The New World

"God only knows ..." Part Two

Mon, 04 Jan 2010 19:03:57 GMT

Though I know you're celebrating a happy new year with your newly returned friend, Willow, I must inform you of some unpleasant parts of my family's story. Trust me, it's the only way you can help Xander in the days to come (and he will need it!)

Our family is from the country known to everyone nowadays as Afghanistan. However, our race is far more ancient than any relatively newfangled name the British may have given it in the 19th Century. We were a prominent family in the life and politics of our home area, but our happier history began to unravel in the years after World War II. And it ground to a halt while your country was preoccupied with another part of Asia.

My grandfather died in the aftermath of a so-called "bloodless" coup that toppled the Afghan king some fifty years ago. It was far from bloodless. My father and my uncle and some other relatives just made it out of Afghanistan before the second wave, better described as a "purge," of this "bloodless" coup d'etat. (Forgive me for compressing a lot of complicated political history into so short a space.)

My family went from country to country so often in those early years of exile that they were confused with the Roma people known popularly as "Gypsies" -- the name itself being a case of mistaken identity, since the "Gypsies" aren't from Egypt. Also, my family traveled light and moved as a group, reinforcing this particular case of mistaken identity. However, Uncle has told me that this situation was fortunate for our family, because it helped us hide from our adversaries.

I was born in Eastern Europe (even now, I don't want to say exactly where). I never really knew my mother, since she died shortly after she gave birth to me. By now, you should have connected a certain series of dots in a puzzle about me that I'm sure you began when you first learned my family's name.

Yes, al-Kalandri was Westernized to "Calendar" by some members of my extended family. And yes, it was my Aunt Susie (Suzette, for she was born in France) who was killed by Angelus, not very long after Buffy was made a slayer.

[more to come]

"God only knows what I'd be ... ."

Wed, 30 Dec 2009 18:55:46 GMT

Dec. 30, 2009

Willow Rosenberg
32323232 Hallowed Halls Lane Apt. 20934
Wildewoode, CA 09876-1234

Dear Willow,

I'm sure you're relieved that Xander has returned from his trial in the deserts of Afghanistan. While this event is obviously reason for celebration by Faith and Devon, I know how much his coming home again means to you, as well.

For his part, Xander told us many times what your friendship meant to him. While in the cave, he told us you saved him from himself and gave his life meaning.

Yes, I do mean "us."

When those who work ill captured Dawn's husband and killed his comrades, they did so for a reason. Young Marc has discovered many secrets of psychological warfare, quite on his own and somewhat accidentally (though not entirely by accident) -- so those who work for Chaos wanted those secrets for themselves. They also were planning to silence him forever, once they felt they had done with him.

I'm so sorry he was tortured before Buffy and her detail could extract him and kill his captors. I feel sure of two things in regard to his misfortune: Dawn will help him heal, and whatever it was the evil ones got from him, if anything, died with them. They did not break Marc but, from what I understand, they bent the poor fellow pretty badly.

When we learned Marc was captured, we had to act quickly. We knew we could count on Buffy, and we were hoping to involve Xander, as well. You, my dear friend, have matured so beautifully since the end of the slaying that it may not have occurred to you how much your Scooby friends need to recover of their true natures to catch up with you.

It's not, as Uncle would have me remind you, that you yourself do not also have many leagues to travel (as do I), but that it's so easy to feel those who love you are alongside you in your development when they are not.

Xander, as you may (or may not) know, has been learning much on his own, but without the proper context for his new-found knowledge, he would just have misused it. I know you instantly would disagree with me, but, unfortunately, experience has proven to us otherwise. We know of only too many who have trod that same path to self-destruction (and dragged many equally unfortunate ones along with them).

They start out well, and once they become famous for their progress, Chaos reveals itself inside them, and then they go wrong. I know enough about popular culture to say this -- they indeed "go to the dark side." What's important to note here is that the "dark side" is already inside of them. As it is in all of us, every one.

The time has come, my so wonderful friend, to tell you a little bit more about me and where I come from, where Uncle and my late father also come from, how we got here (well, most of us, anyway) and what we're doing here now (or at least as much as I can tell you of that).

It isn't a secret cult or espionage. It's something else, entirely. I feel it's time you know more about us.

[End of Part One]

The Lady of the Stake, Part 2: " ... Inside the world/That you see."

Thu, 17 Dec 2009 20:50:52 GMT

[on notepaper found neatly folded inside unmailed Christmas card]

000 Hidden Cave
Hindu Kush,
Afghanistan

Dear Xander,

I really hope you get this somehow, because I feel O my precious knight of unerrant grace: though I cannot wear your standard inside the folds of my bodice, my love, I still bear it deep within my heart. Its colors caress me from the core of my very soul, as I know my kerchief does yours. And for that, I'm sure you still wear it inside your breastplate. Another now calls you her own, and the world knows this, so I must remain a slave to your gallantry in secret, how ever may it cost me tears. Withal, I remain your devoted lady, despite all appearances in this, our rushing world. O world of worlds! Could I but see your gleaming soul through your eyes again and know you're safe, how long would I cry with joyous agony! How much would I suffer! What I would give to make it so! Through the worlds of this pellucid grace we know, time and space crumple like paper, and in those folds we are together forever -- as if we never met and remain fresh in each other's unrecalled ecstasy thou mauest ne'er recall the grandeuer of thet thou spakest of whene laste wee meet. Perchaunce wee maye ne'er be so riche and sow goode as to spey wit oure ouwen eyen the rapture of that grayse no tonge maye e'er telle. Thou grandest of alle meen I ken, kepe en yor heerte of heertes they luve I poissesse afore thee in theest, O My dearest, I can see your wounds, how deeply they hurt you, through time itself, and they grieve my soul unto death as I hear your groaning through the planes of the spheres. O naked and wild within the cave of your testimony, your forbearance and gracious sympathies resonate through those spheres. How their memory burns within me! Please, oh, please I beg and entreat you, don't forget our love as you endure what you must for our sake. And, O Dearest, please remain steadfast through your many trials, as we await the only outcome we know we can endure. O bless us all with your golden passionate soul again, and never find what you are looking for -- the only way we can ever be together within the empyrean and its unendurably profound music! So soft, my recollection of your spirit. Let mine be yours and ours together with the Immortal beyond eternity's it's important that you know we all are really worried about you.

Take care and come home soon.

Your friend,

Buffy

P.S.: I think I'm losing my mind. But no big. JSYK.

>

"Fifteen cents a word ... " (telegram via SatPhone)

Thu, 10 Dec 2009 19:58:09 GMT

from ibn al-talib
to faith lehane

MESSAGE STARTS

DEAR FAITH *STOP* MAGISTER X ALIVE AND WELL *STOP* OK SORT OF *STOP* GOING THRU NEEDED TRIALS IN CAVE *STOP* ALL BY DESIGN *STOP* DIGESTING NOTNUTS NOW OK *STOP* NOTNUTS EQUAL FRIED BUGS *STOP* TOLERATING LOCAL WATER OK NOW TOO *STOP* SAYS SEE YOU SOON *STOP* ACTUALLY NOT TALKING NOW *STOP* TRUST ME *STOP*

MESSAGE ENDS

>

Odi et amo

Mon, 07 Dec 2009 19:00:50 GMT

Dear Diary,

Buf and the extraction detail found Marc. Alive. Sick, but alive. He's in Germany now. They said I can see him later.

Xander's gone. I can't see him anymore.

I hate the news for for Faith, but I love it for me. I'm happy I'm sad I feel good I feel bad and I still don't know what to do.

Sincerely,

Dawn

.

"Stop all the world, now!"

Tue, 01 Dec 2009 20:14:27 GMT

3:11 PM 11/30/09

They made it official today.

Xander's chute opened over the Kush, but it caught some kind of updraft and floated across "impassible mountain terrain."

They got no idea where he landed.

I got no idea what to do.

.

The Lady of the Stake (part 1): Hope Calls

Wed, 18 Nov 2009 18:59:26 GMT

Dear Diary,

Still no word about Marc. I stay so worried and try to keep his mom and sibs from getting sick with it. They put up a good front, but it's clear his situation is working on them something awful. I yell, I bawl, I pound my pillow -- I don't care who sees it or what they think. They're spies, so that's their problem. I've got to keep it together for Marc and his fam, bottom L.

Diary, I haven't told anyone this, but I just got something to give me hope, and right now, hope is the best drug I could possibly have. There's no trank ever invented that will do what hope will do for you. I'm finding that out.

Hope arrived in the form of a sword/axe/pointy-edge thing called a mandolin. It has the basic outline-type shape of the musical instrument, but it's not for playing, that's for sure! Dang thing is SHARP!

I can't say more about it (like from who or at where or by how I came by it -- that stuff) except that it's called The Mandolin of Galahad. I'm to treat this thing with the greatest of care.

A search of the 'Net came up with a lot of stuff about Galahad's relationship to magic weapons and chivalry. Chivalry seems to have less to do with kissing ladies' hands (a shame 'bout that) and more to do with some kind of active science of personal behavior.

I also found out that a mandolin was a knight's weapon of first resort -- the thing you grabbed after you got your shorts on. Maybe before.

I was also told, "Let him practice." And that, dear diary, was all I got.

Sincerely,

Dawn

P.S.: I may not be pregnant. Or I may.

P.P.S.: Xander may be MIA. Or may not. Faith's sick over it. *click* Just put hope on hold.

<

War on Faith

Fri, 06 Nov 2009 14:25:19 GMT

3:32 PM 11/05/09

Sometimes you think you know people. You know who they are, what they'll do. Before he was my mister, Mister X was his wanna-be gal-pal's Mister Back-up. Then he was mine.

Well, now he's backed up and hauled his stoopid a%$ off to Bacteria-stan on a suicide mission, leaving me and Dev stuck with the pieces of his idiocy.

Pending tragedy brings out the poet, eh?

This war is a psychological war. There's no doubt about that. But it's killing us all. In pieces.

Maybe that's what Marcus Mario Cesario or whatever was about to find out, and maybe that's why he was grabbed. I finally have something in common with Dawn.

I just thank Chuck for that tattered little prayer book he gave me. He called it obsolete.

Obsolete it ain't.

-

Message to Marc (on fine parchment recovered from ashes)

Wed, 04 Nov 2009 19:13:03 GMT

Dear Marc:

God I hope you get this somehow

My love I am nothing without you

You know this better than me don't you

I'm not scared of losing you I'm scare of me losing me and that's just selfish isn't it dear

But I'm more scared of you losing you because I know if they've got you you're blaming yourself

You more than measure up to your father's expectations you are brave you are kind you are

You are just are that's what I mean -- it takes the rarest courage to be yourself because you have to face yourself and face the consequences of jealousy and meanness of the world that come with the you-be-you mind that's so evolved in you

O Marc please stay safe do what they say don't look to escape Xander's coming to get you have faith

I love you

Sincerely

Your wife,
Dawn

P.S. Maybe Buffy's helping. Please be patient with us. God bless you. I think I may be pregnant.

>

via SafClient Central: "... I'm burning, I'm burning, I'm burning for you!"

Tue, 20 Oct 2009 13:23:52 GMT

DAWN O God o god o god Marc's gone!!! They got him!!! I told him I begged him I pleaded with him! WHY GOD WHY?

WILL Dawn, what's wrong? Is Marc missing?

BUFF He's missing in action.

WILL I didn't know he was deployed!

XAND I didn't even know he was in drab.

DAWN WHAT AM I GOING TO DO? :( so scared so worried

XAND Buf, what's on?

BUFF Short and skinny: he volunteered as a civ consult. His specialty is psychology, so ... .

XAND More.

BUFF We don't know what he was into, but he said something about doing his dad proud. His dad died in Afghanistan.

DAWN one of you do something *crying confused* his family is _so_ freaked

WILL We have the scoop, Buffy. May we now have the dish, please?

BUFF His dad was military and got it early in. A very brave, dedicated man.

WILL But Marc wasn't into the uniform thing.

BUFF His brothers are. His sis works in the Pentagon. They don't talk about military business _at all_.

XAND Marc wanted to do his bit, so he goes in for psych duty?

BUFF He's in research. Whatever he was doing there, it was deep. Brass confirmed the grab last week.

WILL Where was he when?

BUFF Somewhere in Pachtunistan, then. Not there now.

WILL You cut the deal with the brassmen after the desert thing. You know more. We love Dawn.

XAND C'mon Buff. Spill.

BUFF We think he's in Bactrian Kush. BTW there were brasswomen in the room too, JSYK.

XAND The bacteen krush? Killer goth metal, but howza whoza the Afghan tan?

WILL Buffy's using an old term for the part of the Hindu Kush the Hindus didn't quite get back in Zero AD -- just so _you_ know. :-}

XAND whatza?

WILL It turns out I haven't been spouting Sanskrit in my sleep after all. It's Tocharian A. Or maybe B. Not sure which yet.

BUFF Jon's calling. You guys can get the rest from Dawn. Give her time.

XAND Buff, you got peeps in Bacteeneristan?

BUFF No, _you_ do. Guys, really, I'm out. You do the figure 8 on this, OK?

WILL What's she talking about?

XAND I have no idea. Cool you're talking proto-Indo whatever. Props to your shade.

WILL Hey, I'm not a shade yet, doof! :-/

XAND OK, no 'fense intended.

WILL None taken. If Faith sees you manifested in a gold apron again, please let us know, OK?

XAND Deal. Same if you start spewing noctural Nocharian again.

WILL Tocharian. Done. :-)

DAWN Are you guys _on_ this?

XAND Like Bactrian bees on Central Asian honey, my swee -- uh, our sweet.

WILL Your sis says he's on our turf, apparently. Keep us up to, Dawnine. We love you.

DAWN Love you guys. XX XX Stay on it? Please?

XAND Done.

WILL Deal.

From the secret notebook of Michelle O'Hanahan: "I'm one for givin' the devil his due ... "

Thu, 15 Oct 2009 20:08:50 GMT

10/14/09

Have to admit, getting out and getting gamey getting your game on makes me game for love games even when playing just for love of the game.

Yes, I'm crazy. Not going -- there. Destination achieved, mon capitan!

So, it is with mad heart and madly febrile head I must report seeing my love on fire last night. That's right -- op'd mine eyes in the wee hours, looked toward the foot of the bed and there she was -- my girl, a human torch.

She raised her hand as if to indicate something just past my head, and I rose up in bed accordingly -- not entirely sure if it was of my own accord or somebody else's.

Still speaking in some weird language (we think it's Sanskrit -- yes, m'love and I are now discussing these little "experiences" of mine), she touched me with the tip (yes, I felt it) of her finger. Then I caught fire.

It was weird being on fire. It hurt like sh*% -- but I didn't melt, char or otherwise burn up. Neither did Sanskrit Willow.

I remember blinking back the light of the fire on me, in me, around me, whatever, and then my eyes stayed "blunk" and then I remember thinking (or thunking), "I'm dead now," and then my eyes "unblunk" and there we were -- naked under the covers blinking back the dawn's early light streaming in through her apartment window in Wildewood.

Which means, OK, that was a dream I had. Except when we went to bed, I had cotton panties on, she had silk jammies and it was in my bedroom.

IN LAS VEGAS.

Over and out -- for real.

As if I would know real from ... .

In the Pink -- y

Mon, 21 Sep 2009 18:44:22 GMT

Carlos Quintanamo-Reyes

911-F Yellow Gourd Lane

San Presidio, CA 09876-1234

Hey Carlos,

Thanks for the source on the alembic, dude! Some of those others on the 'net looked like cheapies to me. Needed the real thing for my babe, and that's what your guy got me.

Now if I could just get its mojo to working for me, I'd be there. Faith called the first oil I did "dog p^*#." Wasn't good for the old ego, pal, I'm tellin' you.

Still, got back to work and did another. She called Eau du Xandre No. 2 "beetle juice" -- and she wasn't talkin' the movie, or the star either. Oh, well ... . She could of called it "bug squat," so, I'm ahead.

Dang. You'd think cooking this stuff up would be easier than it is. I guess medieval alchemic secrets to brewing the sweet essence of life don't exactly fall off trees, do they? Or maybe they do ... .

Anyway, working hard to make Elix de X No. 3 the killer sniff it should be!

Umm ... maybe that's not quite the descriptive phrase I should use. You do major bad on some of this stinkum, and it could put you out for good! But, caution is the watchword at Xander Alchemical Labs Ink. Need a sign: "No accidents since -- well, whenever it was I started." Sounds good to me.

Well, not since I stung my pinkie on that potbelly doo-hickey under the alembic -- what's it called again? Gets super hot, that's all I know.

Sincerely working to make my baby proud (and smelling her best! Not that ... ),

usual place

PS -- In case you wondered, badminton is the sport of kings in Vegas nowadays. Seems Sa'id and his sis have our little ex-wicca queen and her current wicca inamorata passionate for thing that swings. They're hot to swat -- birdie bruises and all!

PS II -- Saw Buf last night. Yeah, I was asleep at the time. She did all the talking, and -- between you and me -- she's getting a little scary, C.

<

from the secret diary of Michelle O' Hanahan: Down by the Salley Gardens ...

Fri, 04 Sep 2009 18:19:21 GMT

Sept. 3, 2009

Looks like we're heading toward a battle -- over badminton! Me'n' Wil versus Sa'id and his sister. She's supposed to be like Olympic at swatting the birdie. Wil keeps talking about trying to find a hockey mask. I tell her a little shuttlecock won't hurt you.

So it's Labor Day at the badminton park (didn't know there was one -- but Sa'id's sis has membership privileges at an athletic club near us!)

tally ho, we go

PS -- This Is Odd Dept: Wil's not anxious about having to tell Sa'id re: Oz. Thought she'd be down about it, but ... .

o

"A Gift from a Flower to a Garden"

Mon, 24 Aug 2009 19:53:44 GMT

23 August 2009

Willow Rosenberg
202020 Alizarin Crimson Lane Apt. 3210
Wildewoode, CA

Dear Willow,

It's been a while since I've sat down to set them down -- my thoughts, that is! We're all so wired now that it seems our portable devices own us, instead of the other way 'round! Frankly, I find them tiresome.

I was more than happy to help pull together a wedding and reception for Xander and Faith. It went well, in spite of all the desperate circumstances, I might add! I was most impressed with the newlyweds' composure and their fondness for one another -- and almost as impressive was the Rev. Smithson (little did we know all this time he was clergy). It was fortunate that he had a friend who was a fellow Episcopal priest, and who was quite understanding in allowing us to use a small chapel for the service and his home for the reception -- !

Now to your question as to whether evildoers can invade your dreamscape. It is of highest importance at this time in your development, says Uncle, and you deserve a carefully considered answer. And the answer is -- no, they can't.

OK, I may need to add a :-) here! But the truth is just that simple: you are who you are, and any odd thoughts the Obsessor may prompt others to try and project into your unconscious while you are in REM sleep are not you. This truth is absolute, and no one may violate it. Unless, of course, dear Willow, you let them.

It's a little like the rule you abided by in Sunnydale -- the only vampires who may enter your home are those you invite. But it's a little different, too -- and this is important! Yes, you may experience "dreams" prompted from some other (and malicious) pseudo-consciousness, but they only "take" (and then only temporarily) if you admit them as authentic.

How do you know them? They will "feel fake," if you will allow me to put it that drolly. But what's most important to realize is the reason they feel fake -- the reason is you. The authenticity of your experience is completely yours. No one can take that from you, no matter how they may try.

Does any of this make sense, my good friend? I hope so, because it is the only way I know to put the problem -- "put" as in phrasing something and "put" as in placing it -- directly in your lap. The shuttle is in your court (Do people still play badminton? I hope so - it's such a lovely late summer game!). You must respond within your ability and choosing. You are both able and wise, so I have perfect confidence in you!

This directly affects the current situation between you and Michelle. Let's put our cards on the table: ears are buzzing over how she was frightened by the manifestation of your "other" -- and many around you since have assumed you turned secretly demonic after that terrible battle in the desert. Uncle assures me (somewhat needlessly -- though his support of course is always welcome) that your "other" is you, only not you.

I may need to explain that, but I hope not. I believe you realize this manifestation is part of your emerging wisdom and poses no threat to the universe or anyone in it! Still, Michelle's reaction was perfectly understandable. The few who seem to have anticipated your manifestation (they must remain anonymous) felt it better to just allow it happen and let the chips fall ... . I personally would have felt a warning might have been in order, but I was not consulted.

Power is it -- and it is you. Yet not you. Where is the solution to such a dilemma? Uncle has an answer that I feel sure you'll like. He said, "Just tell Willow to wear her love like heaven." I must say, at first, I drew a blank. Uncle's remarks, as we have discussed, do that a lot.

I assume Michelle also needs to hear this advice, and that she can help you find the right way to make the solution a practical reality. I'm sure the two of you will work it out together. It may be that a little "think-talk" with Oz might help, too. Have you taken any walks out there lately?

Know that your love is already like heaven, my friend. We who really know you already wear its truth like fine clothing for all to see. Perhaps it's time you did the same.

Sincerely,

Sa'id ibn el-Kalandri
010101 Madder Rose Circle Apt. 919191
Las Vegas, NE

P.S.: My sister and I still have our badminton gear, if you and Michelle would like to play sometime.

P.P.S.: Should you ever decide to take us on in badminton, know this about my sister: she's five feet nine inches of pure Arab 'swing-thing' power! I'll bring my brother's old polo helmet for you, just in case. ;-)

>

" ... and the wind began to howl!"

Mon, 10 Aug 2009 17:24:39 GMT

3:35 PM 8/9/09

My man X is starting to man-freak -- that means him putting some stoneface on and clamming up tight. got him to talk tho

Buf has been busier than we knew -- it seems there are worlds between heaven and hell and jon has been giving his gal-pal a tour. Great! As if she hasn't been into enough already!

Anywho, it's starting to get to the rest of us -- Xander's been having nightmares and Wil has been projecting something weird. We think maybe her nicking Draco V threw a switch in her head and made a connection ... . oh brother! Chuck's been helping with some rev-therap on Wil's gal-pal, but it's only on a for-now.

I'm big enough a gal to have figured out there's no getting out of here alive -- but why does there have to be more "here" there, everywhere ... ?

P.S.: Buf's latest "memo to a meltdown" was fake -- like I thought it was when X told me about it. It may have been real at some point, but the wadded-up paper had pretty heavy sun fading on part of the back. I bet she left it upside down in her car's back seat for a year or more, then she found it and thought she'd use it to play us. Motive? I don't think she needs one, personally. But I'll let my husband work that one out.

.

from the secret diary of Michelle O'Hanahan: "the cold and rook-delighting heaven ... ."

Fri, 07 Aug 2009 12:48:22 GMT

Aug. 6, 2009

Took me a week to get up the nerve -- or maybe just settle them ... .
It wasn't a dream, it wasn't real, it just was.
There she was, black as a jet of ink, standing at the foot of the bed in moonlight -- talking to me in some language I didn't understand.
But she was there beside me, asleep!!!!!!!
I tried to alert her friends using one of those silly social-networking things that something awful had happened, and it got mixed up with some other crisis they were having ... so I just dropped it.
It dropped me, too -- down a well.
I haven't told Willow -- I'm so scared.
Will it happen again? When? How can a statue of obsidian speak? When nothing but air was there before? I stopped having night terrors when I was four! What was this???

o

"He rocks in the treetops all day long, ... "

Fri, 24 Jul 2009 17:51:11 GMT

[open Twitty stream]

Xander | Wil, it seems our friend Nathaniel the gravekeeper has found our grave slayer in graver distress over Angel and she’s got some kind letter t

Willow | Xander, what are you trying to say? Does Buffy need my help, or has she done something crazy or what? Twitty limits you to 140 characters.

Xander | OK, sorry. What I mean is Buffy sounded really freak-o depressed over Angel and I think it’s more to do with me getting married after Dawnie

Dawn | Xander, please leave me and my marriage out of this! My husband is still really upset over what happened in the desert and he’s still not ov

Willow | Dawn, honey, I don’t think Xander meant to scare you or upset you any further. He’s concerned about Buffy and I can’t get more from him.

Xander | I think this Twitty thing needs some more explanation of what it does, because I don’t understand how Dawn got that last Twit. Is it some ki

Willow | You're using Twitty as an SMS syndicator, which, in layman’s terms … oh, Xander, just stick to e-mail for now, OK?

Xander | Will do, Wil. Yes’m. Er, Ma’am, or Ms. or … . I get it. E-mail. Like paper, but easier to fix if you mistype something or need to strike th

Dawn | What is wrong with Buffy?

Xander | She’ll be OK, Dawn.

Willow | Yes, she just needs to talk to her friend Benjamin, honey. Don’t worry.

Xander | Benjamin?

Willow | Yes. Her pen-pal.

Xander | He’s here in Vegas! Faith sees him every night!

Dawn | Xander! Hurry! Go get him!

Willow | We’ll take care of it, sweetie. How’s your husband?

Dawn | That’s a whole big subject, Willow. We need to talk. Face-to.

Willow | Just e-mail me a time and place. Then we can get this Twitty thing worked out, too. OK?

Dawn | Deal. I love you, Willow.

Willow | I love you, too.

Xander | I just texted Faith. She’ll get Benny. No prob, Bob!

Willow | Xander, cut your Twitty off, please? I’m getting panic-button stuff from Michelle already over this. Please!

Xander | Over and out, my love.

Willow | “MY LOVE?“ FAITH WILL THINK THE WRONG THING! CUT IT!!!

Xander | … .

[close Twitty stream]

"... those yester-dreams." (Red felt-tip ink on half-crumpled sheets of dollar-pad 5-by-7 paper ...

Fri, 17 Jul 2009 12:46:52 GMT

... found by a cemetery groundskeeper near a certain large headstone after a full moon's night.)

"To My Greatest Love,

Why do I tell you what you already know? Why do I still have to write the words down?

My Angel, where are you? How are you? Will I see you again? When?

This graveyard is just like the one where we were together the last time. But it's even more falling apart than when we there. When I come here, I try to remind myself when it felt good to live. And I talk to the ghosts behind these stones or in these trees or on the night air. I

IDONTWANTTOBELIKETHIS -- EVER!!!! I {illegible}

I'd damn you if you weren't damned already! The slayage was forced on me -- you and I both know that. And when I tried to get rid of it, I got sucked deeper than ever into this awful whirlpool -- now I have to fight just for the right to a decent death! Thanks for all your wonderful assistance!

Do you still love me? I certainly hope so, because there are nights I howl for you like a rabid she-wolf, with a fever that takes me to the edge of death. Then I melt into a miserable puddle of sludge, like waste cooling from the crucible ...

I need you inside and out I want you in ways I've never known before I hate you for being so g{illegible}

Killing these things that come after me is easy -- I pretend they're all you. I swing at them with my entire body -- giving you one last look at me before I hack you into dust!

Yes, I have a boyfriend. He's useful to me, and I'm useful to him. We tolerate each other -- most days. (Even he's gone off somewhere now -- wouldn't you know?)

AND YOU WOULD KNOW, WOULDN'T YOU? YOU {illegible}!

We know the truth -- I don't care where you are.

Angel, I love you. I love you whatever you are, whoever you are, wherever you are, whenever you are anything you are or were -- to me or to anyone else.

Forever.

And I know we will never be together again. Because we already are. We always will be. You are all I am.

Sincerely and with all the heart you hold in your vampy hand,

Buffy Anne

Me and my "cookies" were baked and burnt long ago. Go eat your own.

Never? Oh, I really don't care about "never!" Never's nowhere's nothing anymore and I'm better off for it.

Damn you anyway. My love.

What's a post script?"

!

x

To Be, or ... that other thing (concluded)

Mon, 13 Jul 2009 17:55:46 GMT

it seems we never know when we'll need them.

Sometimes I want to go back to when we, as the Scoobies, were in Sunnydale. Though we were in a dangerous place (to say the least!), it felt supportive and comfortable anyway because our parents were there for us -- well, except for Xander, and even he could depend on his folks to do what they normally did!

Now we're starting to be the ones others depend on, and it's far from a comforting feeling. Michelle depends on me (and I need her, in many respects), little Devon depends on Faith and now Xander, and the whole shooting match depends on Buffy, no matter how much she wants to avoid it!

Buffy losing her mom and the mess it left her in toughened her far more than we realized at the time. We were all such messes ourselves that we just sort of left it to her to work it through. She did, exploding a system that has been with man- and demon-kind for millennia, and we're still trying to figure out our place in what remains.

Whether we're a blip or a curve in the human-demon situation we can't know now, but somehow I feel we will someday. I've given up meditation, or even thinking of the Wildewoode Center of All Worship for Everyone as a "meditation center" because I'm better informed. But whatever it is I do when I stare through those beveled windows into whatever it is I stare into, I depend on it to see me through.

Buff (while she was getting her forehead stapled back together after the DDO) suggested I take up fencing. She was cool about it, but I could tell she felt the reason she's going to have a little scar from now on had something to do with me only nicking that drago-vamp. That feels pretty bad, because I can't undo what I did. It also spells "relief," because that's all the damage that was done!

What I fear most is not what's coming next. What I fear most is facing it alone. They're going to get one or more of us eventually -- it's just a matter of time. I need my friends, maybe more than they need me right now, and I guess what our victory in the desert does is buy me time to even the need.

I spoke to your uncle about getting a fencing teacher, because I figured he'd know if anybody would, and he did suggest someone -- whose teaching includes the Persian method. "The what?" I said -- after which I found out! It seems (and I know you know this already) that soooo many Oriental tales of mystic swordplay are actually Persian stories with real-life backgrounds. So, the sword of Deborah is getting some swing time from The Enemy (just joking -- please!). For all I know, the Persians may have got their swing thing from the Hebrews. All for Love, say I.

Speaking of which, let me reassert my love for you, my friend. Please remember me as your friend whenever you can. And thank you, again, for all you've done for us.

Sincerely,

Willow Rosenberg
(same address)

P.S.: Do you know where I can get a pretty good practice scimitar? (Maybe two!)

P.P.S.: Can evildoers invade your entire dreamworld? Even make you think you're dreaming stuff you aren't actually dreaming?

To Be or ... That Other Thing (part 2)

Fri, 26 Jun 2009 16:50:37 GMT

and it's what I've felt about him for so long, but could never really find words to express. Xander has always been a person who could sense purpose in life, and he's the one who would first express frustration when life seems purposeless. Among the Scoobs, he made us make sense.

Jon told me that Xander is beginning to understand this about himself through a process he called "anamnesis" -- another of those Greek words I have to look up to spell. But Jon said it's not about a "past life" the way it's commonly portrayed, rather a way of understanding how everything's connected and how it's connected to a particular individual. As a part of Xander's "individuation" (these words!), he's beginning to sense just how it's all related to him. At least that's what Jon says.

This is scary to me. I know, you'd think battling dragon-like vampires from the netherworld would be what's scary. Well, they are! But I can grab a sword and deal with it (more on that later) or experience a prior vision that helps ready me for the task. The idea that my lifelong friend is going through significant changes -- even if he's changing more into himself -- is truly unsettling.

It's as unsettling as giving up witchcraft (or what I thought was witchcraft) for good! Speaking of witches, Michelle was really spooked by the dragons. She is so into naturality that the sight and sound of beings very unnatural just rattled her cage something awful. I'm trying to help, but just talking about it makes her worse. I'm not worried, though (well, not much), because she is a survivor.

Why can't I live like Faith? (I still can't believe she's Xander's wife!) She just takes things as they come, and then she leaves them when she's done. I respect her for that, I guess, but I also keep my distance. She's not my cup of tea, that's for sure.

I'll admit it was inspiring to watch her and Buffy cut through those dragons! I nicked one, but I wasn't good for much else. They came at us during the night, emerging from the dark like they were part of it -- maybe just using Darkness herself as camouflage, I'm not sure.

When they emerged, Jon held them off of Dawn and her husband, who were really shaking like leaves in a hurricane! The dragons were wary of us, but they were ready to attack. When the very first light of dawn lit Dawn's terror-stricken face, we could see better and so could the dragons. That's when it started.

We travel with our swords, Sa'id. I know you said to take care of them, but

(end of page two)

To be, or ... that other thing. (Elegant large hand on handmade rice paper)

Sat, 13 Jun 2009 19:16:49 GMT

14 June 2009

Sa'id Al-Kalandri
101010 Lake Meade Esplanade Apt 01010
Las Vegas, NE 00111-0101

Dear Sa'id:

Thanks beyond thanks for everything you did for Xander and Faith! I'm sorry this is so late in coming, but I needed to think about it all before I set it down. Your care begs thanks; you also need a complete update. Well, at least I think you need one (maybe I just need to sort ... .).

It seems the FBI is winding up its investigation into the Desert Drag-Out, but I expect it's just a part of the probe into all of us. Regrettable, but inevitable, I suppose. Personally, I wanted to stay under the radar after Sunnydale went to the World Down Under. However, some people just can't help but draw attention, from those who are positive and who are negative.

When the slaying stopped, Sa'id, I wanted it to stay stopped. I didn't get that wish, either. I guess when you get magic swords on extended loan, you're bound to attract attention from those beings that are really negative!

Anyway, the quickie wedding (as nice as you could have made it, under the circumstances ) was probably what Faith really wanted, because she's never really one for those little niceties. Xander once told me, "She uses the flat-rate book."

I had no idea what he meant at the time. But it stuck in my head, anyway, as things you don't fully understand do sometimes. I finally got it one day when I went with Michelle to take her hot German sportsmobile into the shop for a tune-up. I couldn't believe the bill!

Everything, and I mean everything, was itemized, down to the last turn of the final screw on the bottom protector plate! Maybe I'm exaggerating (and Michelle said it was worth the money, if you want to keep you car {note: she was quoting your uncle, as if I didn't know!} a long time), but it made an impression.

Maybe it also made an impression because of Xander's remark -- Faith may be "high-maintenance" (as some men say about some women), but she makes sure every detail is worth it, in the long run. It also may mean that Faith puts little faith (sorry) in the finer points. The bottom line (however high the maintenance cost may be) is all she requires.

Normally, I wouldn't go on about someone I'm not all that close to. But she's family now, as far as I'm concerned. And that means I must analyze! ;-)

What concerns me most, though, is something Jon pointed out to me about Xander -- how he is becoming his own force of nature -- something that I'm learning has its roots in ancient Greek philosophy, and possibly well before that. The word Jon used is "entelechy" -- an understanding of purpose, at least I think that's what it means,

(end of page one)

Eight Days a Week (After)

Mon, 01 Jun 2009 20:07:04 GMT

3:52 PM 6/1/09

When I saw the (almost) new moon, we should have known better than try to get hitched.

When Dawnie's hub talked us into bivoac'ing in the desert as a bach party/bridal shower combo, we should have known better than to try it.

When Drago-Vamp (my name for whatever it was) and his Mini-Me's showed up, what we should have known better than to do was too late to not do it.

After the Ball, the big black spot in the middle of the Las Vegas Desert was a little more than the eff bee eye could ignore.

So, we got written up again. Buf got scuffed (teach her to be late!). Me -- still got mah sword. No one asked this time. (Ha! Betcha!)

Have to wonder what the file on us looks like. (Dear Husband X just had to tell one of them suits that he looked like Mulder. Nobody but X thought that was funny.)

Wil said she's gonna to take fencing lessons. 'bout time. She swings her sword like a girl.

P.S.: Jon pulled me to one side after it all, and he said I need to keep an eye on X. Sez he's "manifesting." Whatever.

X is a man, so he's going to "fest" when he wants to -- right?

.

One Wild Weekend

Tue, 26 May 2009 19:32:14 GMT

3:27 PM 5/26/09

Honeymoon in Vegas ...

Fresh out of eff bee eye interrog room (2x)

x should be out soon

i hope

d&*# dragons!

(gotta say: buf gets Most Improved Award for swords[wo]manship!)

Chuck's a rev! Ha!

,

"... together, this day to ... "

Fri, 22 May 2009 19:47:50 GMT

1:08 PM 5/22/09

The Big Day is tomorrow!

But what do these damn dreams mean? These things-- they breathe fire, but they sure as Hell don't look like Puff ... .

.

"... goin' to the chapel of love!"

Mon, 18 May 2009 17:20:01 GMT

1:06 PM 5/18/09

X and me (I ... whatever) decided to make us legal this weekend. he says no glitches at the altar this time. i'm no daemon, so no worries.

invited the scoobs (still wond'ring about the ring[s]). buf 'n' jon can't make it (surprise) but dawn and her hub can -- so can willow and her m ... ma'am. recep by sa'id (who else?)

hotcha ... can't wait!

yes, we are going to -that- chapel!!!!

btw -- x has been dreaming he's greek. like (as .. whatev) 3 BJ ... (before who? oh, -- oops!) BC greek. so, toga? no, gold-embroidered robe, sez x

-now- i'm worried.

1:07 PM 5/18/09

at least he was asleep when he was dreaming it!