First Manuscript or excerpts from BtVS fanfics? Decisions, Decisions…

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I can barely remember the first story I ever wrote. I do, but you know, that 4th grade West Side Story/Charlie’s Angels crossover, well, let’s just say, a big NO to that memory (although, the singing parts were cool:)… but then I looked up one of my fanfiction stories, a BtVS/Angel crossover called, Destiny and Dust.

So, instead of writing about that first manuscript, I thought I’d share excerpts from some of my old fanfics.

The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. Albert Einstein (1879-1955)

“That’s really cute.” Buffy Summers’ gaze followed the pointing finger of the tall young woman to the handbag on Buffy’s arm. “I swear to god, it’s really, really cute. It looks fantastic, and you’ve simply got to own it.”

“Okay, Lillie, okay,” said Buffy, ready to scream. It was just a handbag. A purse. A thing to put things in. It wouldn’t change her life. She would still be Buffy. Okay, Buffy with a really great purse. She preened in front of the mirror for a moment before her bad moodiness inched its way back to the surface. She hadn’t forgotten why she was out shopping in the first place. It had been Willow’s idea – not Buffy’s.

“Go with Lillie,” Willow had said. “It’s April, and it’s Paris. Get out of the apartment, and get some fresh air. You’ll feel better,” Willow had promised. Reluctantly, Buffy had agreed. So she wasn’t exactly thrilled when she learned this oh-so-great idea didn’t apply to Willow – who had stayed home.

Buffy had to admit that Lillie could be fun. It was just that, well, a shopping spree wasn’t what Buffy had in mind. Lately, her typical day began with several hours of sulking, interrupted by fifteen-minute blocks of self-loathing, followed by a brief burst of mandatory tears. She knew she was being a little too tough on herself, okay, maybe more than a little. It had been two years, after all, since Sunnydale.

I wrote more than 500,000 words of fanfiction when I was an avid BtVS/Angel writer. And this story reminded me just how much I loved “evil” Willow. I also liked adding “original characters”.

Here’s the opening of one of my early BtVS stories that were very popular, although, it made some folks angry. It starts as a celebration of Spike/Buffy love but ends tragically. I was probably angry this day:

when 

“When did you fall in love with me?”

“I told you.”

“Tell me again.”

“I had a dream. I woke up. I was in love.”

“Oh, Spike—”

“That’s the truth.”

“You didn’t love me a little before the dream?”

“Maybe a smidgen—”

“When did this minuscule love begin?” She asked, giving him her version of his smirk as he leaned back against the headboard of the bed and closed his eyes. “Wasn’t it odd when all of a sudden, just like that, you stopped hating me and fell in—?”

“Never hated you, pet,” he interrupted.

“Okay—you just tried to kill me a hundred or so times because—”

“Sworn enemies don’t hate.”

She rolled her eyes, and turning toward him, propped herself up on her elbows and stared into his face. Then she frowned. “So our epic battles were the high jinks of a mutual admiration society?”

“Something like that.”

“Yeah, something like that.” She smacked her lips. “Come on, Spike. When did you fall in love with me?”

“You tell me first.” His fingers touched her forehead, brushing a few strands of hair aside.

“Maybe it hasn’t happened yet?” She took his hand from its resting place on top of his stomach and pulled it to her mouth, her tongue and lips dropping kisses into his palm.

Now, I wonder what else I can share, let me see…this one was called:

Like Mice in a Cornfield

It was the nightmare Spike could never stop having. He was stranded in a shiny bright world with blazing suns. It was so hot he had to wipe the sweat from his skin in layers. Lying on his back, naked in the grass, he watched a flock of bluebirds soar across the sky.

But then another wave of heat tore through the valley and he rolled onto his side, covering his eyes with his hands. He needed to shield them from the sun.

After a while, he sat up and saw a row of trees on the edge of the horizon. Tall and leafy, they stretched across the landscape as far as the hills. And there were hills rising against the sky like crystal green castles bathed in sunlight.

Spike struggled to his knees and took a deep breath.

The air smelled like water, fresh, clear and sparkling. A river was nearby—and something more.

Buffy. She was standing on a precipice looking down on the water, her body, like the hills, stunning in sunlight and shadow.

Spike rose to his feet. She was only a short distance away. He could reach her if he tried.

But how was all of this bloody possible?

In this time, there was no clean water and nothing grew. Birds were extinct and the sun hadn’t shone in seventy years. And he couldn’t lay in the sun. He was a vampire.

Then he was running, trying to reach her. But when he stood at the edge of the precipice, his skin suddenly was cold and wet, and the sun had disappeared.

Spike shivered so hard he couldn’t move.

But then he understood.

It wasn’t Buffy. It couldn’t be her. Was never her. Because. Like the rest of the world, she no longer existed.

Okay, I had fun sharing…hope you enjoyed reading. If you’d like to read anymore, remark in the comments and I’ll include the links! Happy Thursday!