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Living Vengeance by Ariel Dawn
 
Take Out
 
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Disclaimer: Joss is god, not God god, but a lesser benevolent god.

Author’s note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BTL! *hugs* You are the most awesome-est beta ever!
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Chapter 35: Take Out

Liz turned another page of the journal, careful with the delicate pages. She had read through the sparse entries between boarding school and vacations, through the year leading up to Elizabeth’s impending chosen-ness. The girl had not a care in the world. Her normal, genteel lifestyle was about to be horribly altered very soon. The days leading up to Elizabeth’s 15th birthday were hectic and fraught with anticipation. As the eldest girl, Elizabeth expected that she was to be presented to society after her 15th birthday. That event alone was cause for celebration to the teenage Victorian. The day before the event, however, there was a large gap in the entries. The next entry was over a month later.

What to say about what has passed since my last entry? began the cursive writing at the top of the next page. Liz held her breath as she anticipated the badness.

My world has fallen down around my ears. I’ve spent nights crying out my distress to my pillow. How incredibly unfair is this life I’ve been dealt. On the day of my birthday a strange man by the name of Giles came to our home and declared that he had an urgent wish to speak with my father about business. The business turned out to concern me in great detail. I am chosen, to defend the world from vampires and demons, things that I had believed only existed in fiction and nightmares. All this on my birthday.

My father, bless his soul, had my best interests at heart. He negotiated conditions to keep me in school, to stay at home and begin my extensive training.

Extensive training.

I gulped audibly when I heard that. Ladies aren’t to exert themselves and I, a lady, am supposed to begin training how to fight these monsters. It’s atrocious.

What am I to do? How am I to cope? Why has this happened to me?


Liz sighed, drawing attention to herself. The vengeance demon and the vampire looked up from their whispers. Quickly, she returned to her reading.

Details of her training, of how she grew closer to Giles and the dark demon underworld of her world unfolded. Until he appeared on the scene. Angelus.

Liz’s cheeks turned red as she read of the exploits of the scourge as they closed in on Elizabeth’s family.

It was like reading an action/horror novel; she couldn’t turn her eyes away from the neatly scrawled script on the page before her.

That was, until the door to the crypt suddenly banged open and Dawn burst through the entrance.

Reluctantly, Liz let her eyes drift to her sister’s form. Dawn’s happy face fell when their eyes connected.

“Oh great, she is here. Are you here to take me back home before I even get to see Erixel and Spike? You are so not fun. Why can’t you just get over him? You never liked him when he was all following you around. Move on,” spat Dawn as she crossed her arms angrily.

Liz’s cheeks reddened at her true feelings being exposed so bluntly. “Dawn!”

“What?” asked Dawn. “And what are you reading? And are you going to make things nasty for my visit with Spike and Erixel?”

“No,” Liz admitted. “I’m not. Really, visit away.” Liz turned back to the story unfolding in her hands.
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Dawn was through telling the tragic story of how she ruined her chances with the cutest boy in school on the first day of school when she looked over at her sister who was engrossed in a book. Liz reading a book without paying attention to anything or anyone, especially when there sat a demon and a vampire in the same room, let alone with her little sister, was extremely out of the ordinary.

“What is she reading?” asked Dawn curiously, looking over her shoulder.

Buffy sighed. “Something I had hoped that I would never have to share with anyone.”

“What is it?” asked Dawn again.

“My diary,” admitted Buffy, grabbing Spike’s hand.

“Is she gonna find out about...” Dawn waved her hands between Buffy and Spike.

Buffy looked over her shoulder at Liz and cringed. “Eventually.”

I have come to live in London, despite my protests. Giles believes that it is for the best, as ever, to be closer to the Council, to associate with Council approved acquaintances, to train with the best resources of the Council. This would all be well and good, except that I will miss home, even more than when I was at school. Danielle was so sad when I left. She was convinced that we should never see each other again. We cried together even as my trunks were being packed on the coach.

The situation in London is not promising. I am housed with the Travers family, a family I would not have condescended to acquaint myself with under normal circumstances. They are vain, superior and just plain vile to talk to, the whole lot of them. I have never cried so often as I have these last few hours.

I want to go back home to the comforting arms of my mother, the protective embrace of my father and yes, even the annoying and whining company of my sister. I miss them all so much. I pray to God every hour that they would decide that I’m not this special chosen one, that I can resume a normal life. Please, let me go...


Liz wiped a tear from her eye, having felt those same feelings of wanting a normal life. She inhaled trying to calm herself and kept reading.

I met Angelus today. Giles said that it would be a momentous occasion if I came out of the encounter alive. He isn’t too bad. A vampire, yes, an Irish man, uncouth, appalling manners but not at all what I expected from a vampire, though he is the first master vampire I have been up against.

He called me HIS Elizabeth, as if I was his plaything to toy with. I might say that I got off quite a few cutting remarks on his fighting style, his large forehead and his terrible hair cut. The quips I made, though, have not rested my heart at ease. Giles tells me that I am alive because he wants me alive, and nothing more.

Entirely reassuring.

So I am to train harder, longer than ever before. Of that I would have been grateful only days ago, but something has changed and I am anxious to write it down for fear of spoiling it. Giles is always careful with whom I associate and will not let me say my name is Elizabeth even in the company of friends. Though I have not many. In society, I am Cecily Underwood, using my middle name, and though it is mine to use I do not like it very much. I am unused to responding to it. No doubt someone will call out ‘Cecily’ and I’ll not respond or worse, someone will call out ‘Elizabeth’ and I will.

I have made two new acquaintances. And they are the most delightful people. I do wish to know them better.

The first of course is Reagan. We have instantly become great friends. She is the daughter of a member of the Council. Her father, who once had the training and care of a potential but now, as that girl is far beyond her fifteen years, he has resumed his research at the Council building itself. Reagan is very proud of her father and speaks of him with great admiration. I would think that one day, she would like to be a watcher as well. Reagan is far better company than Miranda or Felicity Travers. For that I am truly grateful.

The other acquaintance I am please to recount here is the appearance of a new member of our society. I had only known Reagan a few days when she invited me to a party at which this gentleman was invited. I am completely smitten. His name is Fairchilde and he is the sweetest and most kind person I have ever had the pleasure to meet. It is quite silly of me but I find myself envisioning romantic notions about my further acquaintance with Mr. William Fairchilde.


Liz turned the page, not bothering to pay attention to the fact that Dawn was bidding her good bye or that Spike was leaving with her.

Buffy looked over at Liz with worry about what she would think, how she would react when she found out the inevitable. Dawn and Spike left as soon as the sunset to get take out. There was no way she was leaving the Slayer with her diary, granddaughter or not.

Liz let out a gasp out at what she read next and Buffy could only guess what catastrophe she had read.

They are all gone. It’s been weeks since I’ve discovered them, and yet, the nightmares, the memories of finding my family turn my stomach and drive me to fear the dark as I never have before.

Reagan has been of great help, her comforting words and glances have meant the world to me, as Giles refuses to let me wear black or withdraw from the world, for even a short time.

Vampires don’t mourn the dead and neither should the Slayer.

Cruel words to a sixteen year old girl.

The lectures are never ending. No human attachments except with your watcher. No friends, or acquaintances outside the Council. No future to look forward to. Giles never fails to tell me that had I left my family when he had first come for me instead of spending those first few months with them that I would still be able to say they were alive. It was my reluctance to leave them that condemned them to death. I can’t help but be riddled with guilt.

My father’s mutilated body, the family pets disembowelled, these images haunt me day and night. My mother and sister hidden so well that the tunnel they fled into had not enough air to keep them alive while they waited. Servants I had known all my life slaughtered and left to cook in the sun...I shudder to think on what I saw when I returned home.

Giles says Angelus did this, and I believe him. If only I had come home sooner, or if I had dusted Angelus the first time. Giles has more news from the Council. Angelus has been joined by his Sire and his Childe, Darla childe of the Master and Drusilla the Mad. It makes my job harder he says. Because knowing that my inaction brought about my family’s demise, that’s not difficult enough?

Only Mr. Fairchilde could cheer me up as he has, dear man. I call him William now, for I have discovered his secret. He writes poetry. Yes, it isn’t Tennyson or Shakespeare but it is entertaining and delightful. And about me, I suspect. Reagan teases me about him mercilessly but I don’t care. He is darling. I caught him writing a poem about the Golden Goddess of Kent and I could not help but smile.

It is so unfortunate that William knows nothing of the Council or Slayers. He is in his own fantasy world most of the time, save for when he drifts out of it to get me a glass of punch or take care of his ailing mother. I refuse to think of him as anything other than wonderful.

I think I could love him, if I let myself. If I was allowed...

I have met his mother. Lovely lady Mrs. Fairchilde is too. I entirely see where William gets his kindness and sweetness from. She came to tea at Mrs Chambers’ house, a lady whom I despise but is the something or other of a Council member and so I must go. It is prestigious for her to say that she has had tea with the last four Slayers who resided in England.

Not all Slayers have resided in England though, and that statement makes her a very old woman.

Reagan attended as well. She is well on her way to being one of the first ladies allowed to be watchers. Though they have not allowed it yet, Reagan feels confident that they will soon. Her father being very important in the Council will no doubt make her one of the first candidates.

No new news on Angelus and the ‘Scourge’ as Giles calls them. I have faced Angelus a few times now, and I hate him with every fibre of my being. That is what Giles is wary of, of course, that my emotions will cloud my judgement.

I wonder sometimes if Giles has a heart at all...


There was a loud crash as Dawn and Spike barrelled through the door of the crypt clutching take out bags and running madly.

“I can’t believe you did that!” shouted Dawn.

Spike smirked as he handed the bags to Buffy to hold while he took off his duster.

“I’m afraid,” started the vengeance demon. “What did you do?”

“Spike added a little something to Xander’s car...” started Dawn, walking over to Spike’s now discarded duster and pulled out a can from the pocket.

Liz’s eyes went wide as her brain processed the information. “You silly stringed Xander’s car?” spat Liz, unable to believe it.

“Sent the whelp a message is all,” protested Spike.

“Wanker is a message?” asked Dawn.

“You bet it is,” Spike said proudly. “’Sides, got to get my evil kicks in somehow.”

Buffy rolled her eyes and started setting out the food, and making places for them all to sit while they ate, a curious glance at Liz just to make sure her instincts were correct as she did it.

Within moments Dawn and Spike were settled eating chow mein and chicken wings, as Buffy handed a plate to Liz, who was still sitting on the tomb, the diary in hand.

“Just don’t get plum sauce on the book,” warned Buffy.

Liz nodded and started shovelling the food into her mouth. She was hungrier than she thought she had been and she wasn’t the one paying for the food, which meant good things for her bank account. Glancing over to the group in front of the TV arguing over the local news and how much of the news events were caused by vengeance demons, vampires or prophecies, Liz had to come to a startling conclusion. They acted like a family, looked like a family and Liz kinda wanted to be part of that.

She missed her mom so much and refused to want anyone else to parent her. Dawn on the other hand, it looked like this was what she needed.

Liz turned back to the diary and started reading again, wanting a conclusion to the story unfolding before her. The one that she knew led to the death of a Slayer.

I’ve done it, I’ve broken his heart and now I’m lost. Soon Giles will make me go out into the night again and fight Angelus. I don’t want to win. I don’t want to go on. The words I said to my poor sweet William, words that I didn’t know I had the gall to use at all came issuing from my mouth as I pictured what Angelus would do William should he find him out. I couldn’t bare that. I just want to die.
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tbc...


 
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