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Another unfinished piece dredged up from the depths.

 
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LisaP
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Joined: 03 Sep 2003
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PostPosted: Sun Feb 26, 2006 9:26 pm    Post subject: Another unfinished piece dredged up from the depths. Reply with quote

OK ladies, here is a story that definitely isn't nearly finished, and frankly, I can't figure out why as it was flowing pretty well until it just stopped on me! Once again, it's in it's very first draft form, and I'd be delighted with any and all suggestions as to what should happen next and why.

Unfinished piece - Galway

“OW. Ow.”

Buffy sat up, rubbing her head and blinking against the sunlight. Her first thought was that she must have fallen and hit her head, and then she realised that she was sitting on a grassy sand dune, with a calm, dark sea breaking gently on the shore only a few hundred yards away, blue sky and gulls wheeling above her.

“This isn’t right…last I remembered, I was in the centre of Rome…”

A groan coming from behind the sand dune alerted Buffy to the fact that she wasn’t alone. Struggling to her feet, she immediately tripped and fell flat on her face, her feet and legs tangled in the long skirts that she was wearing.

“Now this is just weird. What happened to my Dolce and Gabbana jeans and top? And my Prada handbag?” Buffy stared down at herself, appalled. Instead of her expensive, but oh so worth it Roman designer purchases, she was dressed in the most uncomfortable clothes imaginable. A heavy cotton shift, with a bodice strapped over it, and a scratchy woollen long coat on top of that. And the skirt – or skirts, to be accurate. She seemed to be wearing at least two underskirts with a brown wool skirt on top of them. And to her horror – no underwear. At all. Another groan distracted Buffy from her sartorial horror, and she struggled over to the source of the sound.

A young man was lying flat on his back – arms flung out to the sides, slowly recovering consciousness. Buffy noticed that he too was dressed strangely, with britches and a threequarter length coat. His dark hair was as long as hers, and most of it had escaped the silk ribbon that was supposed to catch it back in a pony tail.

“Hey, are you OK?” Buffy reached the man’s side, and then stopped dead, her mouth hanging open. That face – not seen in nearly three years – but every detail of it still etched on her soul.
“Angel?”
She stared at him, familiar but somehow not – and then it hit her. Angel was lying in full sunlight. Tentatively she pressed her hand against his chest. Thump, thump.
“Oh, God. Angel…is it? Is it you?”
His eyes fluttered open, squinting against the sun.
“Wh…Buffy?” Angel sounded dazed, and then with a panicked cry, he felt the sun on his skin and threw his arms over his head in an attempt to protect himself from the killer rays. The killer rays, that were no longer deadly to him. How could they be? For Angel was no longer a vampire.

-0-

After the first shock of discovering that he was human had started to recede, Angel began to take stock of his surroundings. The very last thing he remembered was a dark alley, rain streaming down and an army of demons overwhelming him and his companions. To wake up, here – in somehow comfortingly familiar surroundings – with Buffy at his side, was disorientating to say the very least.
“Angel, what the hell’s going on?” Buffy was sitting beside him, clutching his hand as though he might suddenly disappear on her.
“I wish I knew.” He frowned. “But somehow this all feels very familiar to me.”
Buffy huffed “Well, it sure doesn’t to me. I mean, clothes? And your hair…we look as though we’re characters out of some historical drama, and not one that’s showing me off to my best advantage, either.”
Angel smiled. As far as he was concerned, Buffy looked wonderful. And very young. A doubt niggled in the back of his mind. Buffy was 23, but she didn’t look a day older than when he had first seen her on the steps of Hemery High in LA, and Angel somehow knew that that wasn’t any more right than him suddenly becoming human.
“Buffy – pull me up.”
Buffy looked at him strangely, but got to her feet. She took his hands and pulled. Nothing happened. Buffy pulled harder. Angel didn’t shift an inch.
“I can’t. What, are you fixed down there somehow?”
Angel stood up. “It’s not me, Buffy. Wherever we are, whatever’s happened to us, you don’t have your slayer abilities – same as I’ve lost my vampiric ones.”
Comprehension – and unease – washed across Buffy’s face. “You mean that we’re just ordinary people?”
Angel laughed slightly. “I don’t think that you could ever be called ordinary.” He stared at her so intently that Buffy began to fidget.
“What, do I have a smut on my face?”
“No, but I think if you had a mirror you’d be surprised at what you saw. Buffy, you don’t look a day over fifteen.”
For a moment Buffy thought Angel was flattering her, and then she saw that he wasn’t. She saw his attention wander away from her and back towards the sea and the sand dunes.
“I know this place…but it can’t be.”
“What?”
“Here – it looks like the beach just outside of Galway town, near where my family lived.” Angel frowned, thinking. Then, taking one of Buffy’s hands in his, he turned and began to walk determinedly back through the dunes and away from the sea. Buffy scrambled and slipped, struggling to keep up, her long skirts and awkward boots making life difficult for her in the soft sands.
After 10 minutes they reached a rough cart track. Angel stopped to let Buffy catch her breath, and shake the worst of the sand off her clothes. Absently, he scraped his escaping dark locks back and quickly tied up the ribbon in his hair. Buffy saw him do it – the ease caused by practice of this often repeated action.
“You look like you’ve done that a lot” she said.
Angel looked puzzled and then realised what she was talking about.
“I have…I mean, I did…when I was alive. I mean, the first time I was alive” Angel corrected himself awkwardly. “I used to have long hair then. Everyone did.” He gave her an uneasy look. “Are you OK to go on?”
“Yes, I’m fine, but where are we headed?”
Angel looked at the cart track. “This might be completely crazy, but I think that this track leads to the outskirts of a village called Castle Blaine.” He paused as though unwilling to say what he was thinking. “Buffy…I think that this is where I was born – where I lived until I was turned. That’s why it all seems so familiar – because I’m home.”

-0-


They had walked along the dusty cart track until it widened out to form a packed hard, dirt road. They could see the scattered outline of a village a little way ahead, and coming towards them at a smart clip was a horse and covered cart. As the cart drew level with Buffy and Angel, the driver gave a yell and pulled the horse to a ragged halt.
“Master Liam! Is it you?”
Angel started at the sound of a name that he had not been addressed by for over two centuries. He looked up at the driver of the loaded cart.
“Christie?”
“Aye, Master Liam – it’s me, Christie Neil. My God, does yer father know yer back from yer travels?” The carter’s face was wreathed in a grin, showing a mouthful of rotted teeth. “Sweet Lord, it must be nigh on three years since I last clapped eyes on you. Off to seek yer fortune they said. But it seems ye’ve brought back more than one kind of treasure in any case”. He nodded at Buffy and winked at Angel.
Angel’s mouth opened, but no sound came out, he was so stunned to see this person from his past. Buffy came to his rescue.
“Mr. Neil…it’s nice to meet you. Um…forgive us, we’ve been…travelling for a long time, and have quite lost track of the date…and even what year?” Buffy paused, knowing she must sound like an idiot – not even knowing what year it was…yeah, like this guy was really going to believe them.
But Christie Neil just took off his filthy cap and scratched his head. “Aye – it must be difficult to keep a track of these things when yer a foreigner – beggin’ yer pardon miss. It’s the 14th of July, 1756 – and the time is flyin’ past.” He glanced up at the sun. “Aye, and I’ll be missin’ the evening shipment if I don’t get on.” He smiled down at the bemused pair. “Grand to see you, Master Liam, and you, young miss”. He tipped his cap, clicked at the horse and set off once again down the road.

Buffy’s mind was whirling. She glanced up at Angel. If I’m so all over the place, how the hell must he be feeling? she wondered. Angel seemed rooted to the spot, and when Buffy put her hand on his arm, she realised that he was trembling violently.
“Buffy… this can’t be happening – can’t be real. That was Christie Neil – he’s my father’s driver – he goes to and from Galway port with merchandise and papers for shipment…but he’s dead. He’s dead.” Angel’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I killed him…in 1753.”

Buffy waited for a couple of minutes, just gently stroking Angel’s arm until his trembling lessened. Then she took charge.
“Come on, Angel. If we’re to make any sense of what’s happened – and how to get back – then I don’t think we’ve any choice but to go on into the village.”
They started to walk, then Angel suddenly stopped again.
“Buffy…if this is Galway in 1756, then Christie won’t be the only person who knows me…I mean, the person who was me…the village was very small, and things were different then. Everyone knew everybody else. To them, I’m Liam Donnellen, son of Thomas and Agnes Donnellen – the linen merchant and his wife. Christie said it was 1756 – that’s three years after I was turned into a vampire. He said I had been travelling.” Angel paused, his face screwed up in thought. “I left my father’s house in November 1753…perhaps in this reality I never met Darla…”
“And never got turned into a vampire…” Buffy finished for him. “But, Angel…how come I’m here? And we both still have all of our memories.”
Angel sighed heavily. “ I have no idea.” A look of horror crossed his face.
“What is it?” Buffy asked.
“What if…my parents are there – Buffy, I’m not sure I could face that”. Angel almost seemed as though he was about to turn tail and flee back to the beach. Buffy caught hold of one of his hands, and squeezed it.
“We’ll face it together. Look, Angel – whatever’s happened here, we’ve experienced worse in the past, both of us. We just need time to figure out what’s going on, and we won’t do that standing in the middle of this road. Besides, I’m getting hungry and thirsty.”
Angel nodded, acknowledging the sense in what Buffy was saying, and together they once more started to head towards the centre of the village.

Chapter 2

Two weeks later.

Buffy was never going to get used to this life. She couldn’t begin to understand how people could exist, let alone seem to thrive, in these primitive conditions. She shivered as she vainly attempted to scrape the worst of the grime off her hands with a piece of something laughingly called soap, but which refused to yield a single bubble, let alone anything as luxurious as lather.

It had been a freaky experience to find herself and Angel suddenly dumped into Angel’s past. Meeting Angel’s family had been the freakiest thing of all, and Buffy knew that Angel had found the whole thing nothing short of harrowing. He’d actually wept when he’d seen his sister, Kathy, for the first time. Buffy had felt tingles going up and down her spine when she’d seen the strong family resemblance between brother and sister, despite Kathy being only thirteen or fourteen. Only a year or so younger than Buffy now apparently was, she thought wryly. But even the most emotionally supercharged of experiences slowly begin to settle down, and now, two weeks into their strange adventure, Angel had begun to re-make his relationship with the family that in his other reality he’d massacred.

Buffy scrubbed harder, and sighed again. Angel…except that nobody except her called him that here. Here, Angel was Liam. The Angel Buffy knew – and loved – never existed here. Instead there was young Liam Donnellan, back from his travels abroad after three years – and with her in tow. They’d had to think on their feet to try to explain Buffy’s presence in Galway, and she’d been stunned into acquiescent silence when Angel – Liam – had stumblingly blurted out that they had met and married on the ship back from the New World.

Buffy had barely been able to wait until they had a moment on their own before asking what the hell Angel had been thinking of. He’d been apologetic, but explained that no other reason for him turning up with a girl would have been believed or approved of. A wife was the only acceptable explanation. She’d gone along with Angel, after all, she didn’t have a lot of choice.

It seemed that Buffy didn’t have a lot of choice in many things here in eighteenth century Ireland. At the moment, she was sharing a room with Kathy while Angel and his father looked for a suitable place for them to rent. She’d watched while Angel and his father, Thomas, redrew the boundaries of their relationship. To everyone around them, Liam had been away for three years after one last furious row with his father. It seemed that the combination of his travels and his new bride had mellowed and settled the wild young man. Liam was deferential to his father, and seemed almost pathetically eager to please the older man. He’d even agreed to taking up a position in his father’s business once more. Thomas, wary at first of this much changed son, soon began to make plans as to how the business could be expanded to accommodate Liam’s return. Buffy was worried about Angel’s apparent desire to re-integrate himself into the family that he had killed in another time and place, but couldn’t bring herself to say anything to him. After all, if she had had the chance to have her mother alive and healthy once more, would she have acted any differently? Probably not.

Buffy groaned as she surveyed her still grimy hands and forearms.
“Mistress Buffy? Is there anything wrong?” Kathy had come into the washhouse unnoticed by Buffy. Kathy’s dark eyes – so like Angel’s – were concerned.
“Oh, no Kathy. And please, just call me Buffy. Mistress Buffy makes me sound like some kind of Dominatrix….er…um, well, it makes me feel old.” Buffy blushed, but it was quite obvious that Kathy had no idea what she was talking about.
“You seem sad, can I do anything?”
Buffy shook her head and smiled at the girl. “No, Kathy, I’m not sad. It’s just that Galway is very different from my home. It takes some getting used to.”
Kathy sat herself down next to Buffy, her eyes shining. “Tell me about your home, Buffy, please. I missed Liam so much when he left, and never thought for one moment that he would come back to us, so grown up – and with such a beautiful wife. You both must have seen so many exciting things on your journeys”.
Buffy grinned. If only she knew. “Well – for one thing, where I come from Soap is actually soapy. I can’t seem to get clean no matter how hard I try. And my clothes…” she gazed down ruefully at her stained dress. “I think that I’m actually beginning to smell.”
“But you are so fastidious, Buffy. I’ve never seen someone wash themselves as often as you do. I ought to warn you – it’s really not good for you to get wet so often – you’ll catch a chill and become ill. People have died through excessive washing, you know.” Kathy said earnestly. Buffy swallowed a snort of laughter, and simply brushed at her skirts a bit harder. Kathy fidgeted a bit. “Mist…Buffy, do you mind if I ask you a question?”
“No, of course not.”
“Why do you call Liam Angel?” Kathy reddened. “I don’t mean to eavesdrop, but sometimes I can’t help but overhear you talking to him sometimes…”
Buffy thought quickly. “It’s a nickname – a pet name – that I have for him. I was um…alone on the ship. Ang…Liam was my protector. I called him my guardian angel, and somehow the name stuck.” She smiled at Kathy “And he does suit it, don’t you think?”
Kathy laughed, liking this strange young woman. “Oh, Buffy, I’m so pleased you’re both here. I hope we’ll be firm friends.”
Buffy reached out and took Kathy’s small hand in her equally small hand. “I’m sure we will”. But privately Buffy wondered how long they were destined to be trapped in this reality.

-0-

Angel groaned as he sharpened the quill for what seemed like the thousandth time that morning, and wished fervently that Monsieur Biro had been around in the early eighteenth century. His fingers were covered in ink, and there were spots and splodges all over his cuffs and the papers that he was poring over. How on earth had he ever been able to use this type of writing implement with ease?

He was sitting on a high stool, leaning over a sloping desk, with a table next to him, piled high with export documentation that it was his job to process. Despite his desperate desire to atone for his past, and his desire to repair his relationship with his father, Angel had discovered that he hated his job in the linen warehouse as much as he did the first time around. But this time, Angel was determined to bear the boredom and routine with a good grace. Anything to please his father.

It had all been worth it so far. After the shock of seeing his father, mother and sister for the first time, Angel had come to believe that somehow – some way – he had been granted his Shanshu. A chance to re-live his life as it should have been, but armed with the knowledge of two hundred and fifty years, and with the love of his life by his side. He hadn’t yet shared this belief with Buffy, sensing that she was finding it far harder to adapt to this strange new life she had been thrust into. After all, this wasn’t her choice. Eighteenth century Ireland was a far cry from the world that Buffy came from. He’d seen her dismay when she first encountered the outside privy. At least Angel had been able to distract her slightly by remarking that at least she was familiar with the whole process of bodily elimination. He’d been forcibly reminded on a few occasions already that there were distinct advantages to being a vampire, the lack of a digestive process being one of them as far as he was concerned. Still, any and all of these things were completely offset by the joy of having his family around him once more. His real family.

“Liam, are the West Indies documents ready yet?”
Angel snapped out of his reverie at the sound of his father’s voice. He shuffled the papers on his desk, hunting out the relevant paperwork.
“Um…Yes, I think…” Angel stood up and walked over to the door of Thomas Donnellan’s office, several slightly blotched documents in his hand.
“Aye, well. Good. I’m pleased to see you making the effort, lad, but yer travels have done naught for yer handwriting.”
For one fleeting instant, Angel felt a snap of annoyance at his father’s mild criticism but damped it down immediately. Instead he smiled placatingly.
“I’m sorry Father, a bit out of practice. Are they OK?” At his father’s puzzled expression, Angel hastily corrected himself. “I mean, do they suit?” Both he and Buffy had already attracted odd looks at their strange use of words. He’d laughingly shrugged it off as New World colloquialisms, and this seemed an acceptable explanation.
Thomas nodded. “Aye, they’ll suit.” He leant back in his ornate carved office chair. “Anyway, at least it looks like ye’ll have your own roof over yer head in the next few days. Old man Burke died last week, and the family are keen for a respectable family to take on the renting of the house. I’ve vouched for you and yer new wife, and they’re happy to let ye have the keys any time now. Doubtless young Mrs Donnellan will want to make a few changes – the old man wasn’t over particular with his living arrangements, but I’ve no doubt the house will suit you both fine. It’s a goodly size too, and the maidservant wants to stay on, so at least there’ll be no need for taking on new staff.” Thomas waited, still unsure of his son’s reactions to what could have been termed interference. But Angel was pleased. A place to call home for him and Buffy.
“Thankyou, Father.”
Thomas smiled, the look on his son’s face was thanks enough. “Aye, well. No need for fuss. But I should imagine that young wife of yours would like to hear the good news – why don’t you take an early lunch and go and let her know, eh?” Thomas never called Buffy by her name, but it was clear that despite her odd, foreign ways, he saw her as a steadying influence on his previously wild and wayward son, and was prepared to overlook the fact that she brought no dowry or status with the marriage.

-0-

“A house – but An.. Liam…” Buffy stopped, not sure how to phrase her concerns about Angel’s delight at something that sound so – well – permanent. Angel had come bounding into the parlour where Buffy, Kathy and Angel’s mother, Agnes were sitting together. His face had been alight with enthusiasm for their new home, an enthusiasm stoked by his mother and sister’s equal excitement at this piece of good news.
“The house is a tip, but I’m sure that you’ll have it cleaned up in no time at all – and there’s the maidservant to help you.” Angel was already making plans, and quite failed to see Buffy’s concern. A concern that quickly flipped over into annoyance as she realised that Angel was making rather too many assumptions about her role as his wife.
“Liam. I need to talk to you. In private.” Buffy smiled at Kathy and Mrs Donnellan, trying not to seem rude.
Angel looked at her in puzzlement. Buffy rose to her feet, and left the parlour, leaving Angel no choice but to follow her. As soon as they were out of earshot Buffy turned on Angel.
“Angel – Get a grip. I’m not your frickin’ wife. We’re not even supposed to be here. Instead of gabbling on about cleaning up some filthy hovel, we should be looking at ways of getting back where we belong!” She glared up at Angel. “Oh – and while we’re on the subject – if there’s any cleaning to do – why don’t you do it? I’m not some skivvy you can order about, you know”.
Angel was crestfallen. “I’m sorry, Buffy. It’s just that…well, I thought you’d be pleased.”
“Pleased? Jesus, Angel what’s there to be pleased about? God – I’ve no idea how you stood it here. Everything stinks, there’s no running water, no electricity – not even any kind of sanitation. I’d have thought you would have been as desperate as me to get back to the 21st century.”
Angel’s silence told Buffy more than a thousand words. “Angel...I’m sorry. It’s different for you than for me. And I feel bad that you’ve somehow found your family – alive – but I can’t stay here. This isn’t my home, after all.” She reached out and touched his arm. Angel sighed. “It’s all very well saying that you can’t stay here, Buffy, but do you have even the first inkling of how we find some way to get you back home?” Buffy shook her head, noting how Angel had excluded himself from returning with Buffy.
“Well, until we do find out what brought us here, and how to get back, don’t you think that it would be good to at least have our own house? At least you won’t have to constantly mind what you say and how you act there.” Angel said quietly. Buffy bit her lip, suddenly ashamed at her previous outburst. After all, it wasn’t Angel’s fault any more than hers that they were stuck in Angel’s past. She gave him a slightly wobbly smile. “Of course that will be good. When can we go to see it?”

-0-

The house had been every bit as run down as Thomas had said it would be. Buffy had been frankly appalled at the squalor of the place, and it had taken all of her will power not to turn straight around and leave the house as soon as she had set foot in it. Once again she had been surprised at Angel’s delight with the place. It was as though he didn’t see the filth or smell the dirt. Still, she had no alternative but to make the best of things and the next three weeks had been spent with Buffy, Agnes, Kathy and the servants from her new house and the Donnellen’s household cleaning, washing and scrubbing.

Finally the house started to look more wholesome. Buffy had even persuaded Angel that repairing the window and door frames and painting them would be a good idea, and so he spent all of his free time up ladders and covered in paint. His parents had said nothing to them, but had agreed privately that Buffy must be some kind of a witch to have effected such a dramatic transformation in their previously wild and dissolute son. Agnes and Kathy were busy with curtain making, having seen that for some very odd reason that Buffy was completely incompetent with a needle and thread.

It was only when the furniture began to arrive at the house that Buffy suddenly realised there would be yet another obstacle to address. As the delivery men lugged the huge iron double bedstead up the stairs, followed by a heavy feather mattress, she remembered her supposed status as Liam’s wife. Angel – Liam – was human now. No curse. They’d been hurtled into this life for nearly two months now, and had hardly spent a moment alone in all of that time. Now they had their own house. Buffy felt a stirring of excitement. Would this mean…? Could they…? Did she want to anymore? She peered out of the window where Angel was laughing with the delivery men. A head taller than any of them, glossy brown hair escaping from its black ribbon, broad shouldered and long legged. He was so very handsome, far more so than any of the other inhabitants of the village. Buffy could see why Liam would have caught Darla’s eye. For a moment Buffy felt a twinge of something – regret? – that her beloved brooding vampire was no longer with her, and immediately felt shocked at herself to wish Angel not to have his humanity once more. Which brought her back to the fact of the double bed and its implications. And there were other considerations to think of now as well. Buffy had been horrified to realise that tampons and super-absorbent panty liners didn’t exist in 18th Century Ireland, and her monthly period, usually only the most minor of inconveniences, now virtually confined her to the house for five days a month. Sex – even if they did decide to be together – was going to be problematic with no reliable form of contraception. Buffy sighed and decided to cross that particular bridge when and if it came upon them.

“Buffy.”

She was startled out of her musings and glanced down to where Angel was smiling up at her. She waved at him and opened the casement with some difficulty, grimacing as she recalled how easy this would have been with her slayer abilities.

“Seamus O’Reilly has a horse that he thinks I should be looking at – I thought I’d go up to his place this afternoon. We could do with a break from all this” he waved at the pots of limewash and the general mess of the move. “Do you want to come with me? I’m sure Da will lend us the trap.”
Buffy nodded, she could do with a change of scenery, even if it was only to go from one hovel to another. How did women manage to cope with such restrictions in their lives? Buffy had hardly stepped out of the Donnellans’ house since she and Angel had found themselves stuck back in the past.

-0-

Another first for Buffy, and not one she was in a hurry to repeat. Even though Angel seemed to be a competent driver, the pony and trap had jolted her about shockingly. No springs, and a rutted road, combined with the spanking trot that the pony was urged into had flung her about mercilessly, making her feel both bruised and nauseous. Buffy had gritted her teeth and not complained as it was obvious that Angel was thoroughly enjoying taking her up to see this damned horse. He pointed out various local landmarks as they bounced along and told her anecdotes as he was reminded of events from his childhood. Not for the first time, Buffy worried that Angel seemed to be all too settled in this reality.

Now she was seated on a tree stump, with a vile tasting brew that was supposedly tea in a cracked pottery mug, watching Angel examine several equines that had been led out and trotted up and down for him. He and the other two men were drinking something that definitely was not tea. Buffy had been surprised to see not only Seamus O’Reilly, but also Michael Sheedy, another friend of Angel’s. No, not Angel’s – Liam’s. Liam’s mother had cautiously probed Buffy to see how much her son had admitted to his bride about his previously wild ways, and Buffy had discreetly let her know that she wasn’t entirely unaware that Liam had had a chequered past. This had given Agnes the confidence to confide in Buffy that it had been her opinion that Liam had fallen among a wild and unsuitable crowd, which had encouraged him in his worst excesses. Michael Sheedy’s name had come up as one of this set. Now Michael was scoffing at Liam’s request to see a nice dual purpose ride and drive cob.

“Jesus, Liam. Ye don’t want something like that. Seamus has got a horse that’ll take you out with the Blazers all day and all night. Seamus – ignore the man, put that scabby old thing away and bring out the bay horse.”

“Michael – I don’t need a hunter, I need something that’ll get me and my wife to church on Sundays and me to Galway city to the warehouse. I can’t keep borrowing my father’s cob now we’ve our own place”. Liam tried to sound firm, but Buffy could see his eye straying to where a big blood horse was being led out from one of the tumbledown stables.

“Nonsense. Look at this one. Now tell me you don’t want to sling a leg over his back and try him out.”

Buffy could see that Angel was tempted, but he glanced quickly in her direction and shook his head. Five minutes later they were jolting back along the rough track towards Castle Blaise.

So it was with a great deal of surprise that Buffy saw Angel riding the big bay horse up to their house two days later.

“I thought you didn’t want that horse.” Buffy said to him, being careful not to come to close. Being city bred, Buffy hadn’t had a lot to do with horses, and was a little wary around them. Was it her imagination, or did Angel look a bit shifty?
“Turned out to be a bit of a bargain” he said airily.
“Looks a bit big to fit into the trap”
“Yes, well…he doesn’t drive anyway.”
Buffy gave Angel a hard look. “Have you been drinking?”
Angel glowered down at her from his position on top of the tall horse. “Just a glass to be polite – can’t buy a horse without having a drink to seal the deal”. Buffy glared back up at him. “Looks like you’ve had more than one to me.”
“God, you sound like my mother. C’mon Buffy, there’s no need to get after me on this. It’s only a horse…”
“This has got nothing to do with the damned horse. Angel…”
And then Buffy found she was talking to herself. She stood in the courtyard of their house stunned as Angel spun the horse around and cantered straight out of the gate.

-0-

Buffy had been furious to the point of speechlessness, and had she still possessed her slayer powers then a considerable amount of destruction of walls and doors might have ensued. Now with only the physical prowess of a small fifteen year old girl, all Buffy could do was hurl a few bits of crockery to the stone floor of the kitchen, much to the maidservant’s consternation.

Angel had returned several hours later, full of apologies for his behaviour. His anxious brown eyes convinced Buffy that the apologies were sincere, and as she was feeling bad about the destruction of the plates and cups that Angel’s parents had bought for them, she decided that it would be best to put the events of the afternoon behind them. Making sure that the maidservant was out of eavesdropping range, she decided that the subject of them trying to get back to the 21st Century needed another airing.
“Angel...we’ve been stuck here for nearly two months, and frankly I’m not sure how long I can stand being here. I’ve been thinking – surely there must be witches in Ireland – I mean the real deal, shouldn’t we be trying every avenue to see if there’s a way back?”
Angel frowned. “I thought that you were starting to get used to it here. I mean, the house…you’ve made such a difference to the place already, and it’s nearly ready for us to move in.”
Buffy heard the note of disappointment in Angel’s voice, but steeled herself against it. “I’m sorry, Angel. There’s just no way that I’m ever going to get used to living here – not after having been used to a modern way of life. I have to find a way to get back.”
Angel nodded, but Buffy suspected that it was more to placate her than in real agreement with her point of view. An idea struck her.
“Gypsies – tinkers, whatever…Kathy was telling me about them. They’re magic users. Perhaps we could find someone there who might know how to help us.”
“No.”
Buffy startled at the vehemence in Angel’s tone, but as she opened her mouth to argue with him, she remembered the circumstances of his curse.
“Angel, I know how you feel about gypsies, but any that are around here wouldn’t be part of the clan that cursed you, and even if, in some remotely possible way they were connected, this all happened a 150 years before you were a vampire in Rumania.”
“I don’t care. I’m not going anywhere near any bands of gypsies.”
Buffy decided to leave it, knowing that Angel was immovable on this subject, but she privately resolved to try to discover whether there were any magic users anywhere near Galway.

-0-

Even Buffy couldn’t help feeling a little excited on the day she and Angel took up residence in their new home. Despite its utter lack of any essential facility, the house was reasonably clean, and its furnishings were fresh, and for the most part, new. It was a relief not to have to watch every word that came out of her mouth – at least the maidservant lived in the village so she and Angel would have the evenings to themselves.

Thomas and Agnes had been generous in supplying much of the things that make a house into a home. They’d waved away Buffy and Angel’s protests.
“Think of it as a wedding present” they’d say as a mirror, or a pretty vase made an appearance in the house. Buffy could see how touched Angel was by his parents’ gestures, and once again felt mean that she wanted to get away from this life when it was so obvious how happy Angel was to be here.
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Ares
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PostPosted: Mon Feb 27, 2006 8:06 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Hey Lisa,

I have just read this and it is wonderful. First draft? A pretty good first draft. At the end of the post I thought, MORE PLEASE! Mr. Green

You want us to suggest possible scenarios for the continuation? This is/was flowing pretty well.

There appears to be many courses this tale could take. I don't know what you had intended but here are just a few of my ideas.

1. Buffy and Angel settle into the cottage, have the *sex* of course but Buffy still insists on finding a way home and she does manage to find the gypsies to help her do that. Does Angel end up going with her? Up to you. If he does, does he go back as human or not, or, will Buffy end up staying in Galway in 1756? Will she get pregnant?

2. Buffy and Angel settle and Darla comes traipsing into town. Liam has reverted to his old ways(You hinted that this was happening) and becomes Angelus under Darla's teeth because she snares him in an alley against all his efforts to escape. Buffy has to deal with him and does she go to the gypsies to curse him before he can do too much damage? Does he kill all his family? Do they manage to go home?

3. Both Buffy and Angel decide to find how they ended up in Galway in 1756, because they both realise that they cannot settle and be happy. They find that they are trapped in some alternate reality that isn't real and both need to return to home to deal with whatever it is that has them trapped. World in peril stuff.

4. Buffy and Angel settle down after many trials but find that the village is threatened by vampires or whatever, and both realise that they need their supernatural abilities to make a difference. They succeed but realise that the world needs them as they were. Champions cannot afford to rest and not save the world. They then have to find a way back.

5. Buffy gets into trouble trying to help someone and gets hurt. She needs modern medicine to survive and Angel has to find a way back for the both of them. He goes to the gypsies, does he go back human or will all be as it was when they left?

6. The dream cheat! Twisted Evil

I hope that these plot bunnies are not too laughable to you and any others who may be reading. They just popped into my mind as I finished this great story.

Hey, this is like choose your own ending sort of tale.

Ares Surprised
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Shywillow
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PostPosted: Mon Feb 27, 2006 6:08 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Lisa,

You must finish this piece! I love what you have so far and when I got to the end I couldn't belive that was all there was.

I really like Ares' suggestions especially #1 & #2 but in the end it's your creation and I hope you find your muse to be able to complete it. Smile
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PostPosted: Mon Feb 27, 2006 8:32 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Aha! Lisa, I remember you mentioning this before. It's a great piece, and it would be a shame if it remained unfinished.

I'm not going to try and make suggestions about where it should go and why. That's partly because you've got a whole range of them from Ares, but also because I think you already know where it's going. You just need to remember.

My suggestion is that you remind yourself, not of where this goes next, but of where it's going to finish. You can't take a journey without knowing where you will finish it, even if you want to get there the pretty way. So, decide how it's going to end, no matter how far away that might be (and I think it *is* a long way off, because this is a multi-part story). Then, you'll remember where you want to go from here, or at least, will know in which direction to take it.

Hope that helps

Jo
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chachee
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PostPosted: Mon Feb 27, 2006 8:59 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

lisa
what an ingenious plot.... i for one
do hope that you decide to finish it...
so many interesting possibilites..
chachee
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PostPosted: Mon Feb 27, 2006 11:12 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Thank you everyone for your comments - Ares your no. 1 suggestion was my original reason for writing the story, but I *love* your no. 2 suggestion and might consider weaving both 1 and 2 into the plot somehow.
Jo, as ever, you are right with your suggestion to think about the end, but it seems that this is where things get stuck. Don't think I've ever written a story where I knew how it was going to turn out.
This was a story idea that really appealed, and I was pleased with the way it was going, so it would be good to do a bit more with it, and your comments and suggestions might just provide that extra spur of encouragement to have another go at it!
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Ares
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PostPosted: Tue Feb 28, 2006 6:06 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Lisa wrote,

Quote:
Ares your no. 1 suggestion was my original reason for writing the story, but I *love* your no. 2 suggestion and might consider weaving both 1 and 2 into the plot somehow.


Really? I had a suggestion or two, you liked? *faints* Weave woman, get the loom out! Twisted Evil

Jo's wise, as always, suggestion of thinking of where it is going and where it is going to finish is excellent advice. You are the author, you know what to do. Gosh, I sound like Darla when she tells Angelus, "You know what to do."

Oh, and the original reason you started writing this you say, is in my no.1 suggestion? It's the *SEX* isn't it? Drooling

Ares...tapping nails for more please. Wink
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PostPosted: Wed Apr 11, 2007 1:32 am    Post subject: feedback Reply with quote

I really enjoyed reading this little wip when it first appeared on the board as I have a small love affair with period buffy/angel storys and so I felt like I had found a really great gem when I came across this again today, I know the probability that this will go unfinished is pretty high so I thought I'd just let you know how much I loved reading it anyway, and from what you had written here in the discussion bit I can sort of see how this story would have progressed if you had continued on with it. I love the way you write and am a serious lurking fan of all your work Smile take care and all the best,
~Rain
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PostPosted: Wed Apr 11, 2007 1:53 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Hi Raintree
*blushes and simpers* Thank you so much for your kind words on this little WiP and the fact that you like my other stories. I have in fact written some more of this particular story, and Aunty Jo is very good at nudging me to keep writing, so it may well be that this story does finally get an ending!
I'm off on my holidays soon, and am now the proud possessor of a laptop computer, so am hoping that the muse will strike me once more while cruising gently down a canal. Like you, I'm fascinated with period pieces, and particularly stories that feature Liam rather than Angelus.
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Raintree85uk
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PostPosted: Tue Jun 05, 2007 1:25 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Hi Lisa,

It's great to hear that there may be more to come for this little story so i may start nagging you as well now you've let that bit of info slip, i can be like a dog with a bone when inspired!....and if you ain't guessed i'm feeling pretty inspired right now Razz hope you had a fab holiday!

take care

~Rain
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PostPosted: Tue Jun 05, 2007 2:22 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

More!!! I want MORE!!! Very Happy
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Angel- The world wants me gone.
Buffy- What about me? I love you so much. And I tried to make you go away. I killed you and it didn't help. And I hate it. I hate that it's so hard, and that you can hurt me so much. I know everything that you did because you did it to me. Oh god, I wish that I wished you dead. I don't. I can't.


Love Doesn't Get Any Deeper Than Buffy & Angel
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PostPosted: Mon Jun 18, 2007 9:33 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Groaaannnnn... the laptop has died, and it's only a few weeks old, and no, I didn't drop it in the canal!

Thank you so much for continuing to nag me. Unfortunately my alternative life as a riding instructor is just so hectic at the moment, that all thought of having time to sit down and get to grips with my unfinished stories (of which there are several) have just got to go on hold. Now, I'm not making any wild promises, but I do like this little period story, and would dearly like to get it finished, so don't give up on me just yet.

And your interest has prompted me to put another little vignette up on the writer's workshop - yet another wee piece that has languished on my hard drive for an age. I didn't think it was finished, but on re-reading it, perhaps it actually is? It has a working title of "Wesley's diary"
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