kerkevik_2014: (Default)
 
 
   Additional note: all the stories in this series have been posted in 2017.

  TITLE: Return of the Watcher; Scene 116, INT Slayer's Office

  AUTHOR: kerk hiraeth

  FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (set in the 22'verse)

  LENGTH: 1,089 words

  A/N: This is pretty much from Giles' pov; set more than twenty years after he fired by the watcher's council and at a time when he is increasingly paying the price for all those bangs on the head; not to mention his youthful indiscretions. Felt also that it was time to clue peeps in to why it is that Buffy is so personally invested in this new Slayer that I've been writing about. Finally, if there aren't enough clues into the title; go hunt down the script for Return of the Jedi and there you will find, during scene 116, my favourite exhange between Leia Organ and Han Solo.

 

     “Are you sure about this?” 
 

   He sighed.

   He was only just out of the hospital for fuck's sake; again, with his future prognosis bleaker and less optimistic than ever, but he was here; Willow having found another combination of herbs that would let him function more or less normally; which the drugs he had to take would not.

   He wanted to yell at her, “Of course not! I'm in fucking agony every time I move and think and piss, and I have to be reminded who I am and what I'm about at least five times a day, but...”

   But he pretended he was still Rupert Giles officially Head of the Watcher's Council and technically still Watcher to THE Slayer and just kept his irritation to a barely detectable level.

 

   “I am quite capable of running this place... still,” the last wasn't as under his breath as he would have liked, but Buffy seemed to miss it anyway; irritatingly checking with Olivia and Faith, which perked up his mood no end.

   Somehow he kept Ripper contained; let him loose and he'd never get her out of here. Distracted he missed a bit of their exchange; not that he could always follow what was going on on his best time.

 

   “... besides we can always play naughty secre... “ Fortunately his self-esteem by Buffy's still sometimes extant prudish streak.

 

   “I really don't want to know!

 

   Rupert found his mind fondly drifting back to the days when she saw his youthful; no self-delusion there, middle-aged self as ancient. “No... because you're old, and it's gross.

   Wickedly he wondered what she'd say if she knew just how active his and Olivia's sex life still was, even with him in a wheelchair virtually the entire time he was out of the house.

   His face must have betrayed him because Olivia flicked his ear in warning; deciding to note that for later when they were home, he leant forward.

 

   “Even you need a break once in a while Buffy; remember when you actually used to take a holiday?

   He thought to himself that the last actual break from Slayering she'd taken had been after the demise of The Master. Even this personal search, which they'd played on for weeks when she'd mooted the idea herself was a busman's holiday.

   He settled back in his chair when Olivia placed a gentle hand on his shoulder; knowing how he would be plagued later if he didn't sit properly.

   “I'll have more than enough assistance, and assistants fussing over me, every bloody moment of the day and night, which he kept to himself “so go find this new Slayer who's filling up your dreams.

 

   Lord knew she had to be important if Buffy was dreaming about her; especially talented as well if the best Slayers; demons and watchers they'd put on the task had only been able to find her after she'd been somewhere. At least now they knew where in the world she was likely headed, and a good idea why as well.

   Buffy bloody well still looked over again at Faith; privately he cursed at Olivia for persuading him to have her here as well.

   Ripper gritted his teeth while Giles watched and pretended to be calm.

   Bloody-actual-Slayer Faith just shrugged; blowing smoke out of an open window, then walked over and bloody patted him on the head before Olivia gratifying kicked her shin.

 

   “G-Man and me can keep a handle on things while you're gone and, “ fucking bitch winked at Olivia, “the Big O there can keep him happy. What'we need you for? Take a few B; you've earned it.

 

   Actually, when he reflected on it later, he had to admit he liked Faith's way of expressing that, as insulting as he found it at the time.

   Of course it wasn't really anyone's words that clinched the deal; after all Buffy's own instincts would have driven her to go in the end.

   After she'd driven everyone insane.

 

   No, it was your basic act of naked bribery that did it.

   Something metallic glittered in the sunlight as it was shaken; dangling from Faith's smoke-stained fingertips.

 

   “The bike?

   His Slayer's eyes were almost ravenous as his at the thought of riding the first bike Faith had rebuilt; almost from scratch, back at their first HQ after Sunnydale's destruction; still the official organisational HQ actually. Giles remembered being told; threatened actually, that, No man; especially a watcher, G-Man, is ever getting their ass on her.

   He'd never wanted to be a woman, so had never mentioned the idea again.

   Never stopped him dreaming about it though; once in a while.

   Faith had done a beautiful job; damned thing looked almost as it must have done when someone would have driven it out of the shop sixty, or seventy years before.

   To his Slayer's credit she actually hesitated... for all of about two seconds before almost taking the tips of Faith's fingers off. Three pairs of eyes followed her as; to them, almost in slow motion, she turned and walked out of her own office.

 

   “Wow, our General...” Faith stopped as Rupert held his hand up, grimacing at the sudden movement.

 

   “Not a jinxing word until she's on that flight to New York,” Faith muttered his own words back to him, as they turned to the window and watched Buffy; their General who, to their collective knowledge, not willingly taken an actual vacation day since college, slowly walked; seemingly talking; trying to convince herself?, aloud as she walked over to where Chao-Ahn was waiting to drive her.

   'Bike's I can trust her with; cars? Not so much,' Faith's husband had once said. Giles made a note to call Xander to tell him he'd lost his bet; wondering to how much satellite calls to the Namibian desert were likely to cost these days.

   Lowering his hand he made to say something to Faith, but she was already walking. “Don't worry, Roller Boy; I'm on it.

 

   “Fuck off,” he told her as she closed the office door behind her, politely snickering as she did so. Olivia was already there at the drinks cabinet.

 

   “Whisky?

 

   Exasperatedly, he said, “You know perfectly well...

   Stopped by the hand palm faced toward him, he had to grin when she replied, “Who said it was for you?

   Returning with a half full tumbler she hunkered down in front of him affectionately brushing his cheek with that same palm.

 

   “Leia, “ he said softly.

   She stood and stepped behind him; kissing the nape of his neck.

   “Han, “ she whispered back at him.

 


    Goddess watch over us in these dark times,

   

    Kerk Hiraeth

 

 

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  TITLE: Fanging It

  AUTHOR: kerk hiraeth

  FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (set in the 22'verse)

  CHARACTERS: Buffy Summers;

  LENGTH: 450,

  A/N: Just a Buffy POV set before the previous OC slayer/watcher fics posted yesterday. One thought though; always been uncomfortable, and very slightly annoyed and angry that so much of fandom is obsessed with who gets to 'bang' Buffy last. Why can't someone be comfortable with being on their own for a while; polyamorous, or just simply taking lovers when she wants; or needs. Or just being single for a while? Anyway, to a mature; thoughtful and pretty content with her lot General Summers; off on a busman's holiday.


     She stole a fucking steam train!

   Buffy was chuckling at the audacity of this slipperiest of new Slayers as she tramped away from the Sapling; more a tree after all these years. She'd been telling her Mom all about her for the past hour. 
   This, the first and oldest of the Slayer Central Academies; run now by the, mostly, retired Vi and Rona, was looking in good shape; though the block where her old office had been could use some repairs she noticed as she made her way; digging the keys Faith had given her out of her old leather jacket, a gift of Giles' (bit big, but she was wearing plenty of warm padding underneath it, so that was of no never mind), up the incline to the hut/shelter/garage Faith had built before they'd started migrating to where the most dangerous trouble spots were.

   Opening the doors, she entered, grateful it was daylight since the light wasn't working. She pulled the tarp from over the Indian motorbike Faith had remodelled all those years ago, and hadn't ridden since she'd turned thirty.
   Buffy checked it over; filled up with gas, and wheeled it out into the open. There was a mist coming in from the river; warnings of snow she recalled, though she planned to route herself well to the south of those worries.

   Fortunately, though it would be cold most of the way, at least; where this Slayer was headed was reported dry.

   She could hear Giles; her Mom, and Dawnie all warning in her head when she simply stowed her helmet.

     “Easy rider, B; easy rider. Let the wind take your hair, and fly.”

   She felt a melancholic twinge as that memory of Faith went through her mind. First solo ride on a bike; Triumph, as she recalled, after months of lessons from Faith and taken while she was naked, and still sweaty from sex with her ex-lover.

   She'd nothing but ex-lovers now, but felt no loneliness out of it. All were friends; scattered all over the world, and most would drop things with demur to come if she asked; even share her bed, but she found she didn't need them for that comfort anymore.

   She wondered if maybe she could take those blasted cookies from the oven.

   Shaking her hair free from its scrunchy, she ululated fit to wake the sleeping Slayers not two hundred meters away.

   Starting up her bike, she roared off towards the gates; turned left and head off towards the freeway downstate.

   Nobody could hear her, but she was laughing out loud all the way; every once in a while channelling Furiosa from that Mad Max movie Faith was obsessed with.

 

    Goddess watch over us all in these dark times,

      

    Kerk Hiraeth

 

 

 

kerkevik_2014: (Ook...)
 

   TITLE: Desert Jazz; Provider of Woes Extreme

   AUTHOR: kerk hiraeth

   FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (set in the 22'verse)

   CHARACTERS: OC; again, see the immediately preceding stories in this series for particulars on what my muse has revealed of them thus far.

   LENGTH: 602,

   A/N: This one does specifically refer to the Slayer's age when they began their relationship, so it's worth repeating that warning. The title comes from a sense of letting this story flow from three separate sources until they finally made sense; one of them being the original title of where this began; including inspiration from the music playing when I finished it.

 

     She'd been fourteen; woman for years.

   He was just shy of his fiftieth birthday; newly a dead man, only uncertain of time when he'd tried to arrest her, a drunk teenager; forgetful that he was no longer a policeman. Later that night, she'd rescued him from an unseen joyrider; fast even in those pre-Powered days.

   Given a place by her fire he'd found himself unwilling to resist her when she sought comforts his moral code; anyone's moral code would have until a few days before, would have disgusted him.

   When she asked him to kneel and suck her cock; fingers entering her vagina as he did so, he found himself shocked at the lack of his previously self-assumed homophobia.

   He swallowed and she licked the residue from his lips before she fucked him to a tearful rest.

 

   It seemed all so long ago; long before they experienced the realities of the hidden supernatural world on a backstreet in Bolton.

   Not long after that she had felt something burn through her; screaming as she somehow managed to stop him from diving from the roof of a high rise in Leeds.

   Calm; cold fear at the loss of him too soon driving her on, she persuaded him to follow her down to the Gloucestershire woods where she had been brought up, only to find her adoptive parents long gone into the ground.

 

   They found a letter though; written in childish written, and expressed, Spanish, that told her of her origins in the deserts of the American South-West, brought to England by activists trying to help her birth parents escape.

   Nothing on who they'd been, or why they'd not escaped.

   Only that they'd been killed; last of their people.

 

   She was Native American. Apache; Ute, they had no way of knowing, but she finally had a sense of, somewhere out there, being somewhere she could belong.

 

   Word reached him that strangers were looking for her; people the demons who gave them shelter feared for some reason. They ran; he becoming sicker day by day, she determined to find a home of some kind; secretly already decided on finding a place to give him to the gods.

   The Great Spirit was calling her home she decided.

   He was too frail to argue; never had told her where home was for him anyway.

 

   As they travelled; from demon hideaway to demon safe house, he studied and learned; all he had strength left to do until a mage gave him the makings of concoctions to keep him alive. She stole until they had enough to bribe passage to Newfoundland.

 

   Now she was here; having got him home; her home, but just too late.

   She slowly settled down on her haunches; ran trembling fingers over his cold features, finally kneeling and letting her grief flow.

 

   She built a half-understood bier; drank the warmed remains of his last made coffee; ate the stew he never got to cook for her, and burned his body in a ritual more akin to his ancestors.

 

   Dawn rose as the flames began to die.

 

   She spilt her seed into the dying fire; dressed, putting on his favourite jacket, and turned resolutely towards her future, and away from the sunrise.

 

 

   Buffy backtracked her to where the remains still smouldered; giving him the burial the Slayer she had come for could not.

   She found a crucifix and mangled a few words; half-remembered from a movie, before she set off back to where she had left their new Slayer making camp.

   The girl woke with a start as Buffy dumped her backpack.

 

   “So... you got a name?

 

 

    Goddess watch over us in these dark times, 

    

    Kerk hiraeth

 

 

kerkevik_2014: (Default)
 

   TITLE: Spirited Away

   AUTHOR: kerk hiraeth

   FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (set in the 22'verse)

   CHARACTERS: Buffy Summers; Xander Harris; Faith Lehane; Kennedy; Willow Rosenberg; Rupert Giles; Riley Finn & (in abstentia) Olivia,

   LENGTH: 100,

   A/N: The title is a conscious homage to the creator of one of my favourite films; My Neighbour Totoro; the drabble is dedicated to red_satin_doll to whom I have long promised a happy ending for her most beloved character, and it is also from her pov.

 

     Xander at least seemed embarrassed at their failure.

   Kenn and Will stared at her; making her reflect on an inkling that the wrong word would earn them both a punch.

   Faith smirked.

   But she always smirked; her glare returned as her successor left her husband's side and went to the door.

   Too smug.

   “C'mon in, roller boy,” Faith told Rupert Giles, as Riley manouvered his wheelchair inside.

   Ignoring Faith's deliberate barb their old watcher handed her a printed email.

   From Olivia; back in the States.

   Their elusive Slayer had somehow smuggled herself into, and out of, Navajo territory.

   Heading home.

 

    Goddess watch over us in these dark times,

    

    Kerk Hiraeth

 

 

kerkevik_2014: (Furiosa 2)
 
      TITLE: You have to go... when the Black Rabbit calls.

      AUTHOR: kerk hiraeth

      FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, with honourable nods to Watership Down; General Leia Organa and her RL avatar's mothers most famous musical role in Singin' in the Rain.

      CHARACTERS: Faith Lehane; Kennedy; Marcie Ross; Rowena; Xander Harris; Buffy Summers; Dawn Summers; Lisa; Olivia; Rupert Giles; Andrew Wells {in spiritus; Richard Adams; Carrie Fisher & Debbie Reynolds}

      LENGTH: 156

      A/N: I have lost count of the number of different versions of this I have gone through. The first version had to go because I was so distraught myself; this before I heard the news about Debbie Reynolds, as well as a real life loss close to my heart, that I had gotten two of my Buffyverses intermingled. The word count is very specific; adding the combined ages of Richard Adams; author of the book that changed my life, Watership Down, and Carrie Fisher; who created; not my first, but certainly my most memorable and enduring fictional Hero, Leia Organa.

 

 

         “O, Embleer Frith!

     Slayers embarked in search of, first him; then her, when the news came in; scant minutes apart. Kennedy and Marcie Ross kept them, discretely, away; under their General's orders. Renée had absented herself; intent on guarding her not-serious boyfriend, though she let them know Xander was holed up in a geek bar on one of the seedier stretches of the Allegheny.

     Buffy herself was with her sister and her wife, Lisa; sitting vigil over various children, while Olivia sat with Giles as the still bedridden Ripper relived his youth endlessly watching Star Wars movies; including a specially delivered copy of the newest one.

     Meanwhile Faith; arms about a now doubly-grieving Andrew, looked out over another stretch of the Allegheny and quoted a long-deceased Slayers favourite Watership Down passages.

     Occasionally pausing to join him in his tearful renderings of musical numbers, and the Star Wars theme, she somehow kept her own emotions in check.



          “O General; my General.

    Goddess watch over us all in these dark times, 

    
    
    Kerk Hiraeth

 

 

 

kerkevik_2014: (Default)
 
 
   Had a beautiful day travelling up the east coast of Scotland to Aberdeen; dark already, but I've had a wonderful time listening to a radio programme about the male voice choir formed around Aberfan two years after the disaster forty-eight years ago. Set my spirit tingling listening to them, 

 Here's a drabble. 


   TITLE: Lost in Transition

   AUTHOR: kerkevik_2014 / [personal profile] kerkevik_2014 

   FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer

   CHARACTERS: Buffy Summers; Rona;

   LENGTH: 100,

   SUMMARY: With all the Slayers in the world; new ones coming all the time, without having to be one who replaces another who's died... what futures will open up for Slayers who don't want to be on the frontline anymore, now that this is an actual option?

   A/N: Rona seems to be getting into my muse's brain, which is strange in one way because it wasn't until the final episode, really, that she really impinged on my consciousness. There's definitely more to come from her.

 

     “You play so beautifully; why not use it?

 

   “It... Refuge.

 

   Buffy could see where Rona was coming from.

   “You and Vi...

 

   “We're not a couple.

 

   “... are amongst my most  trusted field commanders,” she continued, ignoring the unneccessary interruption. “Ever wondered why?” Buffy added, standing up.

   She moved to sit beside Rona, on her; silent, side of the desk.

   “That bond you have; you've built lives of your own.

 

   Rona smiled, “She's a geek.

 

   “She also loves teaching; you both do.

 

   Rona glanced up; honestly perplexed.

   “So teach, “ Buffy told her, who never learned. “Go teach the newbies how to life.

 

 

      Goddess preserve in these evil times, 

      

 


     Kerk(evik) TehKek Hiraeth

 

 


kerkevik_2014: (Default)
 
  Wrote more than a dozen stories last night/this morning; this is the first to be transcribed and posted. They will not be posted in chronological order; nor in the order they came out of my brain. They are all set in the same femalehusband!verse that sees Tara and Faith as a couple. Should be posting a master list sticky post for that 'verse, but I think I'll do the 22'verse one first as posting these fics will take a couple of days. 

  They are all a belated birthday pressie for elisi, which I hope she will enjoy.  

  TITLE: Love in the Shadows

  AUTHOR: kerkevik_2014 

  FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer

  CHARACTERS: Hank Summers; Spike; 

  LENGTH: 100,

 SUMMARY: Dawn's wedding; a father uninvited, and a vampire risking... things...

 A/N: This is set a little earlier in the day of the wedding of Dawn and Lisa; also, of course, Faith and Tara; also Andrew, and someone who has yet to be revealed.

 

      He felt so cowardly.

   “I wanted to thank you for... you know,

   Spike shrugged; lighting a cigarette, trying to seem indifferent.

   “Just stay at the back.

   Hank watched his daughters talking at the front of the Marquee; wondering distractedly what they meant to this man, so willing to risk their anger so he could be here for Dawn's wedding.

   “Ain't you I'm worried about mate; just protecting my bollocks from the Slayer.

   “I don't want to...

   “Don't want her having them off for bringing you do I?

   Hank nodded, and settled into a chair before such circumstances could be set in motion.

 

 

     Goddess watch over us all,

     

     Kerk(evik) TehKek Hiraeth

 

 

 

kerkevik_2014: (Default)
 
  

 

Finally reached my teenage fic; which is kind of appropriate when you think about it. Had a rip roaring start to the year but, despite not posting much of anything, let alone fics, this year I have never felt a loss of confidence that I wouldn't write more. Very slowly my stressed asperger-y coping mechanisms/routines have begun to abate and the ideas that have been swimming around in my head have started making their way onto the page; now into a form that can be posted. I actually posted a couple of drabbles I'd forgotten about, so I have written more than I thought; which feels good actually.

Anyway to that thirteenth story, which links the past of the Slayer line with the future; both in terms of Buffy's story, but also the story outside the show's universe, because of a character that was created for Angel the Series. 

Title was inspired by this poem ~ www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/54584 ~ which I went looking for when I could not find a title I was happy with.

 

 

  TITLE: The Rivers of Command

  AUTHOR: kerkevik_2014

  FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (post-s7)

  CHARACTERS: Buffy Summers; Rona; Dana;

  LENGTH: 200,

  SUMMARY: Slayers are heroes, but Slayers are also Human; with their own Human flaws and prejudices. Slayers are also women; denied, or relieved of; as you perceive it, the menstrual cycle. This also means that those who might wanted children were denied the choice of whether to have their own. Until Tara, or Willow, dependant on which 'verse you perceive this story to be set, set about breaking one of the chains the first Watchers imprisoned them with. This is a story set in the early days of a new reality for the new Slayers born of the spell that created the Army the Watchers never wanted to see.

 

 

     Buffy listened; not too fond of what she heard.

   Or that Rona wasn't interrupting, until she turned; apparently staring into nothing, since Buffy wasn't there, dipping her head to one side, gently; twisting it sideways, inclined sharply.

   Buffy sensed a faint chuckling before the subject of the humour appeared in front of her; tampon pretty obvious between her legs.

   She was impressed; not least by the way Dana walked straight through them to stand alone about forty feet beyond their collective embarrassment.

   Rona, Buffy beside her; divesting themselves of their underwear, joined her; passing either side of the chagrined squad of trainees.

Buffy started to shake her head; until she realised that Rona wasn't deferring command; informing her instead that she wasn't in command either.

Smirking, Buffy took a single step back in unison with her oldest Trainer.

   There was a single point of light; a pinprick really, that only a Slayer might see. Buffy caught Rona reaching down; then across to her, feeling something wet being daubed across her belly.

   It was menstrual blood.

   She smiled; Rona had made her choice.

   The three settled.

   Step by step, moving forward.

   The trap was set, they just had to wait for their victims to spring it.

 

 

 

 Goddess watch over us all,

 

 

 

 Kerk(evik) TehKek Hiraeth  



kerkevik_2014: (Default)
 

      This is dedicated to two of my best supporters, elisi and red_satin_doll; also to a character I only realised I really liked after he was gone. It's also dedicated to all the veterans who have served and sacrificed so people like me have the freedom to say we will not kill.

      I owe them my gratitude for that freedom.

      

 

   TITLE: Comforting Contemplations

   AUTHOR: kerkevik_2014

   CHARACTERS: Buffy Summers; Riley Finn; Joyce Summers; Spike; Dawn Summers; Lisa;

   LENGTH: 500

  SUMMARY: This is set in the 22'verse; it's an anniversary, but not a significant one. Buffy is coming to a crossroads in her life; all her partners have partners; families; lives outside the war they are constantly fighting, and she is missing them, but is she as alone as she thinks; or as lonely as she believes?

 

 

   Riley started to apologise, but she cut him off; she knew the game. Besides she was a soldier too, and all her lovers were in danger all the time as well.

 

   She wasn't married to any of them, of course; nor did she have any children.

 

   Which she did...

 

   Not.

 

   “Sorry mom, “ she whispered, or thought she had. He asked her to speak louder; jungles not being as quiet as they were in the movies.

 

   Buffy grinned; glad that he couldn't see how tired she was. “Forget about it, Finn; go get her, “ adding, with a twinkle in her voice, matching that in her eyes, “If she hasn't escaped and tied them all up by herself by the time you get there.

 

   He would never know her pain at hearing his laugh from nearly a thousand kilometres away; she could hear the Huey coming to collect him too.

 

   “You know it, Buff.

 

   And he was gone.
 

   And she was going to be alone on her birthday. Her head leant to one side as she regarded her mom's picture; the only one she had of the four of them together. Snorting, she wondered once again why she kept it; wasn't as if it was the real thing, Dawnie had found it on the internet on a relative's social pages.

 

   She knew why of course. It was also the only picture of their father that their mom kept, because it was taken on the last holiday they had together before Dawnie started growing up; like dying a little when you watched you kids start going away to school, Mom had told her once.

 

   Buffy picked the picture up and walked over to the drinks cabinet, took a Guatemalan beer that Riley had presented her with the previous year. Staring at the people in the frame; contemplating the possible messages in the fact that it was the last one, she wondered if she could ever be as strong as her Mom had been.

 

   She didn't have to stay; more than enough talent to take over, but she knew she wouldn't. She knew she wasn't her Mom; never could be that strong.

 

   Smiling melancholically to herself, she turned out the light and put some music on; some vinyl that had been a present of Giles', he not being able to make her birthday either. She sipped her beer, sighed and rested the picture on her chest; falling asleep in the comfy chair.

 

   ~~~

 

   Joyce watched her from where her presence stood by the fireside.

 

   'You're as strong as stone, Buffy; with a heart big enough to protect a whole world. You're more than I - we could ever have hoped for, with the patience of a glacier. You're not alone; never alone.'

 

   Joyce accepted the hand offered her by a platinum blonde deceased undead, who also offered her a ghostly mug of hot chocolate; with little marshmallows, and stayed watching Buffy as she slept; only leaving once he'd kissed her forehead.

 

   ~~~

 

   Buffy stirred; waking enough to place the beer safely, then went back to sleep, feeling oddly comforted that she wouldn't be alone forever.

 

   ---

 

   Which was where Dawn and Lisa; their three children asleep in their arms found her when they arrived, unannounced just as dawn was creeping over the horizon.

 

   Happy birthday could wait until morning.

 

 

 

     Goddess watch over us all,

     

     Kerk TehKek

 

 



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   TITLE: Casablanca

  AUTHOR: kerkevik_2014

  FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer;

  CHARACTERS: Buffy Summers; Faith Lehane,

  PAIRING: Buffy/Faith;

  WORD COUNT: 200,

  A/N: This is written for drabbletag6 request @ femslash100 by clarahow . It will also be posted at her comm femslashagenda . It is set in my 22!verse where, at this time, Faith and Buffy have been lovers for some time. There are references here back to Season Three's Graduation Day, Pts I & II .


 

 

     “Faith!

 

     The target of her yell responded exactly as if she was made of the same material as the gravestone she was staring at.

 

     Buffy swept two vamps off their feet with one kick; dusting another before she could she could recover from dodging them.

 

     She yelled again; without getting any more of a response; noticable to her Slayer hearing anyway. Faith might have been a statue.

 

     There was a sob...

 

     and a groan...

 

     Which came from behind her.

 

     The one missing an ear was dusted as he tried to stand; last one fled past Faith into the woods.

 

     “Faith, what..?

 

     Buffy spotted the glistening trails on Faith's face; that what breathing she was doing was automatic, and laboured beyond description.

 

     It wasn't until she got a look at the inscription on the gravestone that she understood. 

 

     Of all the cemetaries in all the world...

 

     Buffy pulled her close and held her as Faith's conscience cracked open the dam and flooded into the open.

 

     She held back her own tears; helped by a deep sense of her own guilt.

 

     How many had died because she couldn't... 

 

     Wrapping her arms around Buffy, Faith finally wept over the Professor she had murdered.

 

 

 

   Goddess watch over us all,

   

   Kerk TehKek

 

 

kerkevik_2014: (Default)
 

  TITLE: The Room with the Empty Tiger

  AUTHOR: kerkevik_2014

  FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer; post-series au,

  CHARACTERS: OCs,

  WORD COUNT: 100, wri

  A/N: Written for open_on_sunday prompt #621: empty room,

           What if the Body Swap between Faith and Buffy was not reversed? This is set decades after the canonical Body Swap. Decades in which a very nasty, and very cold war has existed between those who support the Slayers Council, and the diminishing remnants of the old Watchers Council. A search has been going on for one prisoner; few believe she still exists; even fewer know she does.

 

     Every night food and drink was left outside the room.

     Nobody knew why.

     Or nobody would say.

     They did ask, when they were new.

     Never twice.

     Or they disappeared.

     As the food did; every morning to be taken away.

     They appeared every now and then; nobody was sure how they gained entry.

     Somebody had to be in there.

     Or something...

     Rumours; dark and lurid, thrive in such an atmosphere.

     Der Töter was whispered.

     Some said whatever was in the room was fed those who were suspect.

     One man unwisely used the word Slayer aloud; only from a dictionary, but...

 

 

   Goddess watch over us all,

   

   Kerk TehKek

 

 

 

kerkevik_2014: (Default)
 
  

 

 

This is the sixth of a ten-part drabble series set in the 22'verse, and originally intended for elisi 's birthday three years ago. Lost my way when it was half completed, but recently I was able to find my way back and finish the journey. This is then the first of that second half, so long delayed.

 

 

 

TITLE: “Sitting on the Dock of the Bay.”

AUTHOR: kerkevik_2014

CHARACTERS: Xander; Buffy,

WORD COUNT:100,

A/N: “The power of the night, the press of the storm,

The post of the foe;

Where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form,

Yet the strong man must go.”

 

(Prospice by Robert Browning)

 

 

Part Six: “Sitting on the Dock of the Bay”

 

 

Xander sat down beside Buffy; silently joining her in contemplating the fishermen landing their catches. He wanted to ask how she was doing, but changed his mind when she gently rested her head on his shoulder.

They both understood that she was handling Spike's death, but didn't want to talk about it just now. Not that they talked much these days; he was simply here for an old friend if she did want to talk.

They talked about his marriage to Faith some; other simple things, until the sun eventually went down, then he left her alone and went off to find his wife.

 

 

 

Goddess watch over us all,

Kerk TehKek

 

 

kerkevik_2014: (Default)
 
  

 

 

This is the fifth, and last, of the half completed ten part drabble series I was writing for elisi 's birthday three years ago. At this point I started to get far too complicated; possibly clever too, and drifted away from what had been my intended plan for the series. Recently I was able to recover that headspace I'd been in and finish the series; at least as close as I could get to my original idea.

This part will be behind a cut, as it gets pretty R-rated as Buffy forces Spike's 'That one time' secret from Satsu. 

 

 

TITLE: “Three Steps to Heaven.”

AUTHOR: kerkevik_2014

CHARACTERS: Satsu; Buffy,

PAIRING: Buffy/Satsu;

WORD COUNT: 100,

A/N: “I give her the rose with unfurled petals.

She smiles

and crosses her legs.

I give her the shell with the swollen lip.

She laughs. I bite

and nuzzle her breasts.

I tell her, 'Feed me on flowers

with wide open mouths,'

and slowly,

she pulls down my head.

 

(I Give Her the Rose by Suniti Namjoshi)

 

 

FLǕGGȦ∂NKđ€ÄŒHIŒβǾLʃÊN! )

 

Goddess watch over us all,

Kerk TehKek

 

kerkevik_2014: (Default)

  
  

 

 

TITLE: 22

AUTHOR: kerkevik_2014

FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer

CHARACTERS: Buffy, Angel, Dawn, Rona, Chao-Ahn, various other characters being mentioned.

WORD COUNT: 1360

A/N: http://kerkevik.livejournal.com/19023.html contains the original version of this story; written before three characters; Satsu's wife (Gazaleh), Dawn's wife (Lisa, from “The Body”) and the Chaplain all became much clearer, and important, to my imagining of this world.

It was also written before I realised that Satsu & Gazaleh were connected so strongly to this older; polyamorous, version of Buffy.

Roughly two years after I first wrote in this Buffyverse; which I call the 22'verse, after this fic I began writing a series of drabbles for elisi 's birthday. I got badly detoured part way through that, though the initial image; with sound effects stayed strong in my mind. So strong it's taken more than three years to get my head back to where it needed to be to complete the stories.

I can't honestly say that the collection traversed the same path between part five and its conclusion that it did back then, but I have written other stories in this 'verse, and there will be many more; some, possibly peering back into Spike's adventures, as well as stories about the Slayers in those intervening years.

 

 

They never knew where they came from; every year, almost to the hour, they arrived.

Neither did they know who sent them. When the investigated, it always a different person; usually Human, and female, and always a friend to the sender.

They always sent a Council Operative; even Buffy couldn't get the Council she led to approve the release of an actual Slayer and, invariably, the word would come back that the return address 'was vacated within the last couple of days; rent paid up to the end of the month.

And always in untraceable currencies.

But she had a fair idea, since they always arrived in time for the anniversary of the night Buffy had been kicked out of her own house by Dawn and the others and it was always Dawn she remembered; Dawn she felt she'd let down by letting things get that bad.

The night she'd been held, comforted; strengthened to finish the fight by a stroppy, bitchy, poetic undead...

Whatever, wherever they were, they gathered at dawn for a breakfast of the contents of the packages; always as fresh as any guest of a five star Mayfair hotel could expect.

Nothing changed until the Slayers on the Council finally outnumbered the Watchers; when Buffy got Dawn installed as Council Head; together with Kennedy installed as Operations Chief of the newly-unified Intelligence Division.

Which, of course, meant she rarely saw either anymore; or their wives... especially Willow, because whither Kennedy etc...

Soon they had linked into the fact that it had always been the same woman; female usually; one of only two unconfirmed survivors of the Great Los Angeles Holocaust of '04, which had left the majority of southern California a blasted wasteland; LA itself a virtual no-man's land for Humans.

Once they knew for certain who She was, tracking down the identity of the sender, and his whereabouts was a cinch.

 

It had just turned dark on the evening of the twenty-fifth of June; two thousand and twenty-one of the Common Era, when Buffy sat down to review the daily reports from Senior Slayers across the globe.

She was on her fifth cup of very strong, and very bad – ironic, given they were based not too distant from the capital of one of the world's largest coffee producers – when a knock on the door announced the unexpected arrival of her kid sister, who entered the room with a very sober expression on her face.

Buffy saw past Dawn and saw others behind her, especially Satsu. A brief smile crossed her lips; she and the Head of Asian Operations always had a good time whenever she was at HQ; meals; walks, a fuck; as Satsu was wont to put it, despite she being a married woman, to an Iranian Ironwoman Buffy had ironically introduced her to, though her boss always countered she was as equally married to her destiny.

Then she saw Kennedy grasping Will's hand, which she rarely ever did; Dawn's wife standing behind them; Faith with Xander's arm around her shoulders; even rarer.

Her eyes travelled back to the wet glow to her sister's eyes; the bleakness of her expression, then back to the door as Vi and Rona, currently her senior Slayers based at, their always mobile, HQ; then Riley and Sam entered, holding the door wide as Angel pushed Giles in his wheelchair into the room.

Buffy felt a chill run through her; heart turning to a heavy lump forcing unwanted life through her veins; forcing her eyes down she stared blankly at the sheet of paper she'd been about to sign off on.

Insensibly she placed the black pen down, and pulled a victorian-era eagle feather quill pen that had been a reverse wedding gift.

Carefully, hiding the turmoil of her emotions, she dipped the nib into an inkwell.

Carefully she tapped off the excess, and inscribed a red number one in one of the columns; where she had been about to mark a zero in black. Laying down the pen she looked up as Dawn; hand stroking Buffy's hair placed the transcribed message in front of her sister.

Carefully She leant into Dawn's comforting arms as her eyes; brain took in the message that Chao-Ahn had sent from the West of Ireland.

Chao-Ahn's English was much better written, than spoken, but a smile threatened as she recalled the jokes that passed around the commissary at her exaggeration of her accent whenever she'd been regaling newbies with tales of slaying.

Having spoken to the inhabitants of Clonteach, I regret to report the death of William Pratt; known as Spike, this last seventh day of May, in the two thousand and twenty-first year of the Common Era. The Anglican Pastor; Reverend Jean Renfield, and Catholic Priest; Father William Donachie, of the parish, both reported how he seemed to appear from nowhere to defend the Combined Children's Pipe Band from Demons who attacked during practice in the Community Hall. He fell before a female of a blue demonic visage could reach him; she killed the demons who took his life.

Before she could take note of something erased from the message Angel was suddenly standing in front of her; Nina brushing his cheek with a kiss as he leant in and brushed tears from Buffy's face.

We thought we'd have breakfast in the courtyard at daybreak. The Chaplain will lead us in a prayer before we sing a hymn that he liked... if that's okay with you?

Numb, and simply grateful not to have to do too much thinking, she grasped his hand; feeling strange still over the unaccustomed heat it held, and squeezed it as everyone gathered around her; sharing an communal grief at a fallen comrade; at her loss, and the sense of their common mortality it all awakened.

They'd all known he was out there somewhere; somehow managing to make the Scarlet Pimpernel look as hard to find as Clem when there was a Cat Show in town. Known, but nobody had ever spoken, about the newly-assigned Slayers who reported being rescued by an indescribable stranger, and his companion, who never spoke to them.

 

~~~~~

 

As dawn broke the next morning; eighteen years and eighty days after that night he'd held her; given her the faith; strength, and courage to go out and enter the valley once more, the Chaplain raised her lone voice and led them all in singing Abide With Me, his favourite Hymn; the only Hymn they knew he knew if she was honest.

Buffy broke the seal of the tin box containing, as always, several dozen home-made victorian recipe ginger cook... biscuits, and several boxes of old-fashioned; as in loose, no bags for him, English Blend Indian Tea.

She watched as the now well-practiced rituals of this, their very own tea ceremony were played out; noting with tearful pleasure the greater than usual attendance then, when everybody had their cups of tea to hand, she got up to speak.

This poem was one of his favourites. It was written, he believed, to commemorate the pilots who defended his birthplace from the German Luftwaffe bombers during the Battle of Britain. It goes something like this...

 

Remember those not here today,

and those unwell, or far away.

 

And those who never lived to see

the end of War, and Victory.

 

And every friend who passed our way.

Remembered as of yesterday.

 

It's absent friends

We miss the most.

 

To all, let's drink a loving toast.

 

To some muted sounds of china cups touching; softly spoken, “To absent friends,” they all toasted ALL those who'd been lost; even if they were all focussed on different people.

She heard Rona, from somewhere to her left, and behind, say (in a bad cockney accent), “Goodbye, you wankers!

Bittersweet smile on her face she sought out Angel and, catching his eye, they shared a nod of acknowledgement, of their shared love of their lost friend, and of each other.

 

Mind full of the last time she'd seen him; her lover, she raised her cup to Angel and mouthed a silent, “Thanks.



 May the Goddess watch over us all, 

 
 

 Kerk TehKek 








kerkevik_2014: (Hello Captain Kitty!)
 

 

TITLE: Saved by the Jinn of their Teeth

AUTHOR: kerkevik_2014

FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (AU)

CHARACTERS: Ocs; and (unnamed, and in order of appearance) Spike; Angel; Buffy; Vi; Rona, and Willow.

PAIRING: Implied Buffy/Spike/Angel, 

RATING: PG-13 

WORD COUNT: 820

PROMPT: Inspired by the current prompt at writers_choice and written as a birthday gift for kazzy_cee , whose birthday it was today,when this written; yesterday since it was posted after midnight.

 

 

 

Haafiz held on tight to Sargon; too small to swim, as Haalima, his beloved Sabeen's only girl, and a dreamer of magical tales; learned beyond his fathoming of so many things, swam; one arm held tight to the prow of the sinking lifeboat, straining as she drank in the salt waters of the Aegean, trying with superhuman strength for a fifteen year old girl to save what was left of her family.

 

Sabeen and the other boys might still be alive.

 

Might.

 

That was all the hope he had left; try as he might, he could not let go of that hope. The last sight he had had of his beloved and his other sons was of them running for shelter after, mercifully he supposed, narrowly avoiding being aboard the last boat trying to reach the ship they had safely reached.

 

Now he watched helplessly as Haalima tired, even as the island shore came into sight.

 

Baba!

 

Haafiz opened his eyes, closed only to pray for salvation for the three of them, and their missing family.

 

He cried out to the Prophet himself as he saw nothing of Haalima; she was gone beneath the water. Then, even as he prepared to sacrifice himself and Sargon in the hope that his wife and other sons would be saved, a ragged short-haired head surfaced; holding beyond all miracles a spluttering Haalima.

 

The creature, some kind of man, though so pale that he was almost the pallor of a ghost, swore in the tongue of the americans; though of a different accent. With a huge effort, he thrust Haalima into the lifeboat; into her father's arms, even as a dark-haired; as pale, man-thing, with the help of a woman, began to lift the prow of the lifeboat free of the water.

 

Bloody Heck! Didn't think I was going to reach her in time!” The woman retched as she expelled briny water from her lungs, leaving most of the swimming to her dark-haired companion, as she sought to bail water from the lifeboat.

 

You pouffes okay here? Spotted another boat in trouble; think I can get it ashore on my own, but they're going to start sinking soon I reckon.

 

The woman waved him away; unable to form true words as she fought the waters inside the lifeboat. Haafiz saw the lighter-haired one seem to blow the dark-haired one a kiss; say something in a foreign tongue Haafiz did not recognise; though the other two did.

 

The woman swore at him; making Haafiz redden at the thought of Haalima hearing the foul language from a woman. Then the man-thing who had saved Haalima swam away, mostly underwater; away from the direction of the shore they were now surely being pulled; somehow joined by two other woman, one pale and as red-haired as his beloved Sabeen; another darker skinned; almost as dark as the Abyssinian Priest who had attended the wedding of Sabeen's sister five years since; both now dead in the bombing of their home that had driven them to run for the sea.

 

Minutes later the woman was assisting Haafiz in reviving Haalima, and calming Sargon, after she had kissed the dark-haired one, before sending him off into the water again.

 

Make sure that fucking idiot doesn't kill himself playing the hero, yeah?

 

The dark-haired man thing laughed and, signalling to the other two to join him in rescuing their companion; if indeed he needed it.

 

Ten minutes passed before, with the three of them now safe in the hands of girls, who seemed as strong as they were; indeed as his Haalima had proved to be, the woman dived into the water, seeking to aid other survivors from the ship that had now disappeared beneath the Aegean.

 

Then his head turned as he heard badly garbled foulness in the arabic tongue aimed at a young girl Haafiz thought to be an Arab, who rose above two other who seemed Greek and seemed about to strike him with her fist.

 

Fuck me,” he cried; holding up hands in the manner of surrender, “didn't say I wasn't going back out; just need a bre – break is all.

 

The girl swore at him in a mixture of Kurdish and Assyrian, before rushing off to aid another young woman as two young men were pulled ashore.

 

Moments later; complaining with every step, though racing back to the rescuers and the rescued, the lighter-haired one was gone again.

 

Finally Haafiz feinted to the sand; feeling safe to do so as he saw Haalima; holding her crying younger brother in her arms; hugging him tight as she shed tears of relief herself.

 

He never saw their three saviours again; though the dark-skinned one came to talk to his daughter; together with another red-haired woman who had the sense of a magician about her. Haafiz sensed he was going to lose Haalima; in a manner, but she and they had reached safety.

 

He turned his mind to how he was going to reunite the rest of his family again.

 

 

Goddess watch over us all,

Kerk TehKek

 



kerkevik_2014: (Default)
 

  TITLE: Keeping It Clean 
  AUTHOR:  
  SPOILERS: set during comics pre-series story, 'Viva Las Buffy'. 
  RATING: PG-13 
  CHARACTERS: Buffy, Pike; 
  SUMMARY: Maintaining propriety in the face of illegal hormones is not easy. 


   "Hey, where's the soap?
   Pike recalled fetching a beer; swore. 
   "You there?
   He froze hearing a splash, tried desperately to keep his mind off the, possibly, naked fifteen year old Slayer coming to kill him. 
   He slumped, trying to feign sleep; wished he was as dead as the TV. 
   Pike listened as wet feet padded about, searching for; then finding, the soap. 
   Knowing she was standing over him he thought, 'Do I snore?
   He heard the sound of the door closing; then a soft splash. 
   Then Buffy tunelessly started in on, "I touch myself.
   Pike very nearly took the pledge. 


 Goddess watch over us all, 
 
 Kerk TehKek 

kerkevik_2014: (Default)

First of Two 

 

TITLE: Too Easily Swallowed

AUTHOR: kerkevik_2014

FANDOM: BtVS, post-series; set in my 22'verse,

RATING: PG-13 (written for open_on_sunday prompt #615: no regrets, but unable to post in time)

WORD COUNT: 100

SUMMARY: Buffy's pov over people's perceptions and her inability to communicate.

 

 

She felt it about Riley, until she met Sam.

Knowing she'd lose him to Nina, she felt little over Angel.

There was little over keeping Faith from Xander; they'd other reasons for their awkward silences.

Everyone missed Will, but when she wouldn't talk Kennedy didn't mind as much.

Until Gazaleh she felt some not being able to give Satsu what she needed.

She sometimes regretted Spike's absence, but nowhere as often as people assumed.

Regret can be a bitter poison, “ her mom told her, “too easily swallowed.

Buffy heard her; only regretting nobody realised she had what she really needed.

 

 

May the Goddess watch over us all,

Kerk TehKek

 

kerkevik_2014: (Default)
Hi,

here is the second in what, I hope, will be a year-long series; starting last night with this poem - http://kerkevik-2014.livejournal.com/14145.html - to bridge the gap between the yearly US National Poetry Months.

This I found in a 2013 collection; edited by Hamish Whyte, called Scottish Cats.

Little Drama by Gerry Cambridge (born 1959)

A bonny night. I step outside ande gaze,
Head back in autumn dark, up into space,
Where stars between the clouds burn with quiet praise,
And think for whatever reason of your face.

Fine thoughts beneath those glittering Pleiades.
Regrets. Goodbyes. The largeness of the night
Summons easy nostalgia for futilities,
Free from the searching glare of window light.

But what's this, suddenly, about my feet,
Rubbing at my ankles? It's the old, black fat tom
Unusually affectionate, startling from
Revery, ragged-eared, with his small thunder.
Is it mere love, or food he wants, I wonder?
His presence somehow makes the night complete.


This one goes out to all shippers, but mostly to that original 'ship Kirk/Spock and the longest lasting Buffyverse 'ship; known as bangel, or Buffy/Angel. Never really liked Kirk or Angel; never got why Angel was so attractive as a partner for Buffy (nor Spike did I really get; despite liking Spike a whole lot more), but the longevity of these partnerships in fandom are undoubtedly part of why the shows were such successes.


Goddess watch over us all,
'tis ok to be Takei,
Ray.
kerkevik_2014: (Pingu)
Hi,

a short break from the Decameron and the other similar series I am writing; style not content there. This is for the Protection prompt at http://open-on-sunday.livejournal.com/

http://open-on-sunday.livejournal.com/2924523.html

Goddess watch over us all, (and me for writing this)
'tis ok to be Takei,
Ray.

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