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05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
12/23/16 01:12 pm
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10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
08/31/16 03:43 pm
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Author's Corner

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Authors Chapter Notes:
Authors: Zephyr&Emerald (Mari (Dusty273) and Lu(82))

Pairing: We’ll give you three guesses... ;)

Setting: Season Four, after ‘Something Blue’ (but Buffy and Riley are not together!), it goes very AU after that.

Rating: Mostly PG-13, but eventually NC-17.

Disclaimer: We were inspired by the movie ‘The Love Letter’ to write this story, but we’re gonna follow a pretty different plotline.

Plus, we know that Joss&Co own everything, as always.

Chapter I.

“I’m still not sure how you managed to get me here.” Buffy snorted, lifting the umpteenth heavy box from the floor of her mother’s gallery.

“Maybe because you’re such an adorable daughter who always tries to please her beloved mom,” Joyce replied, batting her eyelashes.

“No, that’s not it. I imagine it was the whole ‘you’re blood of my blood, I gave you life and is that the way you pay me back after the twenty hours I was in labor?’ speech what fooled me. Geez, you sure know which buttons to push.” The blonde girl rolled her eyes, putting the box she’d been carrying on the floor and opening it to begin arranging the various artifacts that were inside on the proper shelf.

“C’mon, what’s so bad about helping your mother? Aren’t you having fun spending time with me?” Joyce winked at her.

“Hell no!” Buffy snapped.

“Watch your mouth in front of your mother, missy!” her mother admonished her.

“What? You scold me for that little thing... while Spike is free to curse in front of you as much as he pleases?” she protested.

“Well, honey, William is not my son, but that doesn’t mean that I excuse his rude behavior, and even you have to admit that he very rarely uses foul language when he’s around me,” Joyce explained.

And now the conversation had turned to another of her mother’s favorite subjects, Spike... she could spend hours singing his praises and for obvious reasons Buffy felt kinda awkward humoring her, especially after Will’s ‘thy will be done’ spell.

Oh, God, she'd tried to forget about that by any possible means; she’d tried to forget how happy and how in love she’d been with Spike during those hours. Tried being the operative word, as the memories of that day came back to her with recurring frequency. What bothered her the most was that Willow had swore that she hadn’t said anything about love when she’d cast the spell. She’d tried to reason that marriage and love came hand to hand, before her pragmatic friend reminded her that that wasn’t always true.

She shook herself from this train of thought; no way was she going down that road again, she needed to change subjects and fast.

“Anyway, returning to what you were saying before, look, it’s Saturday afternoon and in Buffy’s dictionary the word ‘fun’ means taking a walk in the park, go shopping with my friends, go out to grab a bite or drink something, or even to go Bronzing... but it definitely doesn’t mean being stuck in this dusty gallery all day long!” Buffy whined.

“First of all, my gallery is not dusty,” Joyce pointed out, feeling a little bit insulted. “And second, God, I just asked for a little help, don’t be so tragic!”

“This ‘little help’ has lasted for more than three hours already; take a look outside, it’s already sunset!” Buffy struck back.

“I know, but I needed someone strong enough to carry all those heavy boxes... and all my employees were busy today.”

“So that’s it, you finally accept it. You asked for my help because of my strength. Geez, being the Slayer truly sucks!” Buffy grumbled.

“Well, think of it this way, yes, the fact that you are the Slayer helps, because as you said it’s already sunset and there might be some demons running around town and they could attack me. But you are here to protect me, and I know how much you care about my safety,” Joyce made her notice.

“Stop trying to push the right buttons!” her daughter summoned her.

“Honey, you know better than me that I would've asked Spike to help me, if only Rupert didn’t insist on keeping him in captivity in his house,” her mother said.

“Mom, how many times do I have to repeat it to you so you understand? Spike is dangerous, chipped or not, and you should keep your distance from him!” Buffy said exasperated.

And immediately after saying that, an image of Spike helping an almost blind Giles, without giving it a second thought, doing it just because he knew it would make her happy, appeared unbidden in Buffy’s mind.

‘Geez, Buffy, stop it already! It was just a stupid spell! Spike hates you and all the people you care about and would do the impossible to turn your life into a living hell!’ the blonde reminded herself.
And just like that, Spike had become the main subject of the two women’s chat yet again and that really wouldn’t do for Buffy.

“Honey, let me remind you of one or two things. Last year, Spike came to our house and I made us hot chocolate with those mini-marshmallows while we had a pleasant conversation where he confessed all of the relationship problems he’d had with that awful girl Drusilla, and before you start sputtering nonsense about him being soulless and all, I have to tell you that no one could pour their hearts out like he did, if they didn’t have any feelings! Anyway, the point is that, back on those days, he was chipless and free to do any cruel or evil thing he pleased, and yet he didn’t even try to hurt me. I wasn’t afraid of him then, so there’s not even the slightest chance that I will be afraid him now. Plus, I really think that you should set him free, he’s not an animal,” Joyce pointed out.

“Yes, he is, so forget your plan of becoming his new best friend!” Buffy responded.

And just like that, more images of that fateful day played in her mind, this time they were mostly of Spike pulling her closer to him or smashing her against the wall to kiss her passionately, fiercely and savagely... exactly like an animal!

If she really concentrated, she could still recall the taste of his soft lips and feel the shivers that had ran up and down her spine when he’d pressed his body as close to hers as he possibly could without taking their clothes off.

‘It’s the spell! It has to be. I’m almost beginning to regret not accepting Willow’s offer of a spell to forget all that!’ she thought.

Almost, because for some strange reasons that she didn’t care to study too closely for the moment, she didn’t want to forget.

Anyway, she wanted to take her mind off the dangerously sexy blond vampire, but the fact that her mother kept enumerating his good qualities wasn’t helping at all with that. So, for the second time that afternoon, she needed to change subjects quickly.

“Ok, let’s continue working. We are almost done. Well, it’s me who is almost done doing the hard work, since you’re just bossing me around!” Buffy complained.

“That’s the fun of being the boss!” Joyce sneered. “Just hold on a little bit longer, honey, there’s only one box left,” she added, pointing to the corner. “That goes in the other room,” she instructed her.

“Anyway, I hope you remember that you owe me a big favor for all my help, big!” Buffy informed her, before leaving with the box.

Once she lowered the box on the other room’s floor, her eyes were drawn to the antique desk that had been placed on the far corner of the room. It was beautiful and so elegant; she imagined it could probably be made of mahogany. She got closer to inspect it, noticing the superb craftsmanship, the excellent condition it was in and the several drawers of different sizes it had to store paper and pens. In a word, it was perfect.

She ran her hands reverently over it, deciding then and there that she wanted, no, she needed to own this desk, even if she couldn’t understand why. It was almost as if the desk was calling to her and she had to answer to its call. It was predestined.

When Joyce entered the room to help Buffy unload the things in the last box and was surprised to find her daughter staring at the desk so intently.

“Honey, is something wrong?”

“Mom, do you remember that big favor you owe me?” Buffy asked, without taking her eyes off the desk.

“It’s pretty difficult to forget about it, since you reminded me about it not even ten minutes ago.” Her mother rolled her eyes.

“Well, I know how you can repay me now. I want this desk!” she stated, pointing at the desk.

“What? Forget it. We just received it as an anonymous donation a couple of days ago, but that isn’t the point. The point is that I still have to show it to my customers,” Joyce protested.

“Here’s your customer! I want that desk and I won’t let anyone steal it from me!” Buffy said with determination.
“Buffy, why do you want that old desk? I could buy you a new dress, shoes, some accessories...” Joyce said as she tried to change her daughter’s mind.

“No thanks. This is precisely what I want. Please, mom, let me have it. I promise that I’ll work for you whenever you want, this time for free and without complaining. Plus, you keep saying that my bedroom needs a new look, so we can start with this desk. After all, the one I have there is so small and old...”

“Well, honey, if you don’t want anything old, you really shouldn’t be so set in getting this desk, since it belongs to the 1880’s,” Joyce informed her, already tasting victory.

“That’s not old, that’s antique, it’s different!” Buffy pointed out. “Now, just picture that desk in my room. I’d probably be coming home more often, instead of staying at my dorm room, just to put my books on the desk and study harder than I ever have so far... admit it, you’re already loving this picture,” Buffy said persuasively.

“Now it’s you who knows exactly which buttons to push,” Her mother responded.

“I must have learned that from a certain someone,” Buffy teased her.

“Okay, Buffy, you win. I’ll make one of my delivery guys bring the desk home on Monday. I don’t trust your Slayer’s strength with it; you would surely end up breaking it!” Joyce surrendered.

“Thank you so much, you’re the best mom in the world!” Buffy hugged her mother happily.

Outside, from the window, someone that had seen the whole scene play, grinned with supreme satisfaction. “Alright, alright, it seems my plan is working. Now it’s just a matter of time...”


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