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The Florence Charm and Captain America, a fanfic/Aunt Family crossover beginning


Okay!

So this references and quotes from Asta’s Journal (free for everyone, on Patreon) and references/comes after Even a Locked Chest Must be Unlocked. Everything in here that does not directly reference Captain America is canon for the Aunt Family ‘verse… which, if you’re new to it, has a landing page here.

Enjoy!

There were diaries everywhere.

Evangaline had – with her niece Beryl’s help and sometimes her nephew Stone’s and another niece, Bellamy’s; with, sometimes, more rarely, the other cousins’ less diligent help – been cataloging all of the diaries — thousands of pages of notes from all those who had predecessed her — in her attic. In the case of some of the oldest, they had been scanning them in, using the best archival techniques they could read up on and handling the crinkling paper as carefully as possible.

At the moment, they covered every spare surface in the public rooms of the downstairs. The dining room table had three Aunts’ worth of old journals stacked by Aunt and by year – there was some overlap, as a few Aunts had started writing long before their tenure in the old house on the corner where Eva now lived. The kitchen table held two more. In a corner, Beryl had Aunt Asta’s diaries out, scanning them for interesting content with a now-practiced eye.

“Hunh,” was all she said.

Something about the way she said it caught her Aunt’s attention. Eva looked up, set down the book she was currently taking notes on — one of Aunt Sarah’s, crinkly and smelling of dry-rot in the leather and racier than a summer paperback — and cleared her throat.

Beryl glanced up. “Mmm? Oh!” She flushed and set down the diary. “It’s just… um. Aunt Asta. Everyone in the family says she was…” She flapped both her hands, both explaining nothing and explaining everything. “When I read this, she doesn’t sound like that. She sounds… rebellious, I guess. When she was young. She sort of reminds me of Stone.”

“Stone?” Eva frowned. “I wouldn’t think of Stone as rebellious.”

“Well…” The look Beryl gave her was sidelong and a little uncertain. “You shouldn’t. I mean… you’re the Aunt, no offense.”

Eva coughed. “None taken.” She considered what Beryl had said — all of it. Beryl’s brother Stone being rebellious, that was something she could table for the moment. He was a good kid either way, as was Beryl. Things the Aunt “shouldn’t” know… that, she’d have to take up with Beryl at some point. She knew the family didn’t always respect the position of Aunt-with-a-capital-a, but if the kids were withholding knowledge…

Later. Right now they were working on diaries. “Asta’s diaries sound rebellious?”

“Yeah! Yeah, and…” Beryl shifted directions. “Like this bit. ‘I have joined the WAAC, despite argument from every aunt, grandmother, great-aunt and casual adult female relation I have (and the ten percent of the male relations brave enough to voice an opinion on our family, including my father, my uncle Thomas, and the strange Uncle West, who should say nothing, as he is also enlisting).’” She was flushed and not quite looking at Eva, even when she set the book down. “She wanted to thumb her nose at authority. How did she end up so…” She flapped her hands again. “It doesn’t make any sense.

“Well, but perhaps it does,” Eva answered slowly. “You said she was young in that diary, and she’d have to be, if she was just joining the WAAC. Can you imagine, if you were fighting against the family every day, even before you became an Aunt — back when they weren’t really sure you would become an Aunt?” Eva pursed her lips. “Sometimes the rest of the family can be just as bad on the women that don’t as they are on the men. I think we get all tied up in knots, and then we just pass those knots on to the next generation.”

“Except us.” Beryl looked thoughtful. “I mean, I think?”

“I think we have our own knots,” Eva admitted. “Like… whatever it is you’re not telling me about Asta’s diary.” She held up great-great-etc-Aunt-Sarah’s diary. “It can’t be worse than this.”

“It’s not worse, it’s just… was Aunt Asta…” she made a loop around the side of her head. “I know Aunt Bea is, sometimes. She blames the cats, but I don’t think it’s just…”

Aunt Asta had been Evangeline’s direct predecessor, but the two had never been close. “I think… I think she was sane. I never heard her say something that wasn’t firmly rooted in reality — or, at least what stands for reality in this family.”

“Really?” Beryl stared at the diary in front of her. “Because this… this says she met Captain America. I mean, more than met, although less than… Um. Less than Aunt Sarah’d.” She glanced up at Eva uncertainly. “She thinks he was very cute. And she says she did the Florence charm.”

“The…” Eva swallowed slowly. “You’re sure?”

“Here. See?” Beryl turned the diary around, her finger just under the line in question:

He will come back. That much is certain. And his bloodline could do so much for the family. I don’t know about this Peg of his — or not his, not really. And, in the end, as much as I want to feel bad about it, I did what I thought the family needed.

I wouldn’t mind if it was me he came back to. Even if it’s not me, I’ll be pleased to have him coming back to us.

The page was marked with a faded ribbon. Eva could tell it had once been yellow.

“Isn’t…” Beryl looked both worried and curious. “Didn’t he… Did you see on the news? They thawed him out just a little while ago. He came back.”

“He came back,” Eva whispered quietly. “Oh, Asta, what have you done?”

next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1142805.html

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The Hellmouth Job, Part I-A (A Leverage/Buffy Fanfic)

Part I
Part II

Previously
“I don’t normally…” The client looked around nervously. She was wearing an oversized baseball cap, wide sunglasses, and a trench coat. She couldn’t have been saying “look at me, I’m sneaky,” any more if she had been wearing a sign. “…I don’t really…”

“Let’s go in the back room, why don’t we?” Nate nodded at Elliot, waiting casually at the bar, and at Sophie, chatting up an out-of-town businessman two booths away. “I think you’ll be more comfortable back there. Oh, bring your drink. Joe won’t mind.”

“If you’re sure it’s no problem…” Her voice quavered and shook. Her gloved hands were tight around the mug. But she stood without an trouble and politely refused Nate’s offer to help her up.

In the back room, she seemed to relax a bit, leaning back in her chair and sipping cautiously at the beer. “I don’t like public places… and I don’t want to be seen… here.” She gulped her beer this time. “It’s just… well. I don’t normally leave Sunnydale.”

“Sunnydale?” Nate asked, letting the earpiece pick it up. “I’m not familiar with…”

Oh hell no,” Hardison’s angry whisper cut across the earpiece. Nate ignored it.

“It’s a small city in Southern California.” The client flapped a gloved hand dismissively. “So you can see this was quite a drive for me.”

“A drive?” Nate lifted an eyebrow, while in his earpiece Hardison continued to swear.

“I do not… I don’t like planes. They make me uncomfortable.” The client clearly was uncomfortable everywhere, but there was only so much Nate could do about that. “The problem is… my son is missing.”

“We don’t normally do missing…”

The client slid a folder across the table, along with a small voice-recorder. “My interview with the police. And, as of five days ago, all of the children who have gone missing. Also, a description of the group and their flier.”

“I’m sorry?” Nate frowned at the folder without touching it. “‘The group?’”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” The client’s sudden confidence vanished as fast as it had shown up. “My son was part of a youth group. A lot of the kids were. We thought it was a good idea at first, you know. Keep them out of trouble.” She ducked her head and flapped her hands. “There’s more trouble to get in than you’d believe, in Sunnydale. But then… Well. They started not coming home. First for a day or two. And then he vanished altogether.”

Nate flipped through the photos, one by one. “And the police…”

The client pointed at the recorder. “They’re not interested. It’s not the sort of thing they do.”

“I see.” Nate’s jaw set. “Let me consult with my team… but I think it’s safe to say, Mrs.…

“Doe.”

“Mm. Mrs. Doe, I can’t promise that we’ll find your son. But we’ll get to the bottom of this, one way or another.”

Part III: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1135971.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1127501.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

The Tiny Queen Arises, a continuation of a fanfic of Narnia and Valdemar

first: A Door in the Wall
Second: On the Other Side of the Door
Third: The Call Comes Again
Fourth: New Travelling Companions
Fifth: Complications and then Complications
Sixth: Stranger Things
Seventh: A Change and Changes
Eighth: But Not A Return
Ninth: The Gods Not Tamed

The town they’d slept in this time was big enough to sport a proper inn, as well as a tailor and a dressmaker who’d been more than willing to put together another outfit each for the Pevensies. Soleck had paid for everything before handing over to Peter a full purse and giving him a quick explanation of the currency.

“I feel as if we’re travelling in state now,” Lucy murmured to Susan. “We have proper changes of clothing, we have coins for largesse…”

“Careful now, Lu.” She knew her sister didn’t truly need warning, but Susan couldn’t help but give the caution anyway. “We’re not royal, here.”

“We’re royal,” Lucy responded, her chin up and her jaw set. “‘Once a king or queen of Narnia, always a king or queen of Narnia.’” Her stubborn expression faded into one of longing. “We’re just a long way from home. Visiting incognito royalty.”

“On a secret mission,” Susan whispered. “Don’t forget that part. It’s quite important.”

Lucy giggled. “It’s very important,” she agreed. “Especially the secret part. Do you remember Tinderfoot, who could not understand ‘secret,’ no matter how many times we explained the concept? Or…”

“Herald Soleck.” SUsan talked over her sister with as much grace as such a thing could be managed. “Back from your shopping trip?” He’d taken off Edmund, in theory to buy him a more subtle weapon than Aslan’s gift.

“Yes, and may I say, your brothers knowledge of weapons is quite impressive. I did not expect… well, I did not expect that.” He cleared his throat. “Please, don’t let me interrupt you.”

“Oh,” Susan said brightly, with the cheerful spark that had led many in two worlds to label her frivolous or shallow, “we were just talking about home, old friends and the like. Nothing particularly exciting, I’m afraid.”

There was a look on Soleck’s face, but Susan did not think it was disbelief. More, she thought, something like disappointment.

Well, better he believe her somewhat shallow than he spend too much time worrying about her depth or her brother’s knowledge of weapons. He cleared his throat. “There is one who will guide you for a short time after you leave here. She would like to meet you now, if you would? If your reminiscences are not too dear?”

And that, Susan thought, sounded downright catty. She smiled brightly at him, cheerful and friendly. “Of course! A good guide is very important when one is as far from home as we are.”

She thought she might sound a little bit vapid, but Soleck did not seem to mind, or perhaps he simply had other things on his mind. A missing Prince, she mused, had to be putting quite a stress on those normally responsible for matters such as keeping that Prince safe and sound. She softened her smile a little bit, although he did not appear to notice

“Indeed. And I am afraid the territory we will be sending you into is not, perhaps, the safest of places. It is lucky that your brothers seem very familiar with weapons and tactics for those so young. And you?”

His eyebrows were up and he looked less than pleased. “I’m a fair hand with a bow,” Susan answered. “Lu can shoot pretty well, too, and you don’t want to get within reach of her short-sword.” She took a breath and met Soleck’s gaze. “The place we come from has been at war for many years,” she told him with complete honesty, letting the war show in her eyes. It might not have been where they learned to shoot a bow and arrow… but that was a complicated explanation. “We’re no stranger to battle, Herald Soleck, nor are we as green as you might think or wish.”

Lucy stomped her foot. “Your sun-lord and our… our god sent us. Why are you so worried?”

“Because, young miss,” Soleck answered, with quiet solemnity, “you, at least, look as if you should still be in the nursery, or running about Haven as a page. We do not train Heralds, even, as young as you are now. This mission will not be an easy one, and you are children.”

Susan set a hand on Lucy’s shoulder, but there was no stopping her. She had her chin out and a wild look in her eye.

“Do you doubt your Sun-Lord?” she demanded.

Susan wanted to protest, to scold, Lu, stop it, but she wasn’t going to interrupt. Her sister had the floor and she would honor that.

“He is not my Sun-Lord. But no, I doubt neither him nor his avatars the fire-cats.”

“I do not doubt the Lord we follow, either. And if he has said go into this place and find this man, that is what we will do.”

She sounded, high childish voice and all, much like Queen Lucy the Valiant. Susan smiled in lieu of an impolite cheer.

Soleck cleared his throat. He clearly was uncertain what to do with a child speaking like a queen. Susan wanted to tell him she sounded like that the first time she was a child, too, you know, but that would do nothing but muddy the waters and confuse the issue.

“You said there was someone for us to meet?” she guided him gently.

“Ah, yes. Yes, indeed. She is, ah, not what I am, not a Herald. But she is bonded as a mercenary and is known to be trustworthy.”

“I am sure she will guide us truly,” Susan agreed. She found she wanted to smooth things over with Soleck, and hoped this was the direction which would lead there.

“She and the SunLord,” he answered piously. “She is this way.”

Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1136266.html

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Posting Schedule

I’ve been trying – with some success – to keep my postings to some sort of schedule. I thought it might keep me on track if I posted said schedule here.

I may be off by up to a day on any given post.

Monday
Edally Academy
Weekend blog post

Tuesday
Patreon “Bonus” post – a flashback, something I missed from the month before, or just a story not yet posted for the month

Wednesday
Edally Academy
Buffy fanfic (or Buffy Fanfic)

Thursday
Patreon – alternating weeks story & serial until serial is caught up
Throwback Thursday: a fic from “today in xxxx”, with commentary.

Friday
Edally Academy
Narnia Fanfic into Valdemar

Of course, other fiction will be posted as finished/as whim hits/as commissioned/etc.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1107235.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

Buffy: the Invitation (an Addergoole Crossover), Part VI

Buffy: The Invitation

Part I: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1096503.html
Part II: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1100922.html
Part III: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1104619.html#cutid1
Part IV: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1108537.html
Part V: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1112216.html

“Wait.” Buffy leaned forward. “You’re serious. Really serious. Commitments were made. Those commitments, they, what, overlap? Someone can do that? Someone can just be like ‘hey, this person, she’s going to go to an elite boarding school,’ and then someone else is like ‘oh hey, yoink, she’s going to stab vampires for us’? I mean, really? What if I’d died before I got to their fancy school? How does that work?”

“That is, indeed, the difficulty with making agreements or arrangements for other people.” Giles stared at the road as if he didn’t want to turn to look at Buffy. “If you had made these arrangements yourself, you would know that they might — were very likely to, indeed — conflict. However…” He made a thoughtful noise. “The commitment to be Slayer, such as it is, is not a commitment to a location. That is the choice of the Council and a choice of, ah, the situation. You can still be Slayer and not be in Sunnydale — as this summer so aptly proved.”

“Wait, wait.” Xander leaned forward. “You remember what this summer was like. We survived, yeah — but barely. Come on. If Buffy bails to go to this school, what’s going to happen in Sunnydale?”

Giles coughed uncomfortably. Buffy looked out the window, her shoulders hunching forward, and said nothing. Willow opened her mouth to say something, set her hand on Xander’s leg… and said nothing at all.

“Well? Come on, you know what this place was like before Buffy showed up. And now, the student paper’s obit section is down to every other month. We’re doing okay — as long as Buffy’s there. She goes away again, then what?”

“I’m quite aware of the problem, as I’m certain Buffy is. You’ve heard her repeatedly say that she cannot leave the Hellmouth, Xander; there’s no reason for you to lambaste her.”

“I’m not… I’m not basting the Buffster.” Xander frowned. “I’m just pointing out that this is a stupid plan.”

“The problem is not in convincing me, Xander, nor is it in convincing Buffy — or even Willow, although I believe the situation may be quite different for her. The problem lies in convincing this school — or the Council — that the situation cannot stand as it appears to be.”

“What, aren’t invitations to schools normally, you know, an invitation? Not a requirement? I mean, private schools, fancy schools.”

“Xander…” Willow put her hand on Xander’s arm. “This is complicated. It’s a mess of complicatediness, and yelling at Giles isn’t going to help him straighten it out. It’s all Watcher-y business and complicated fancy magicy sorts and stuff. So there’s fancy magical promises and things like that, too.”

“Willow?” Giles raised his eyebrows at the rear-view mirror. She squirmed in her seat.

“I did a little of the research and stuff. I mean, they want me to go to school there. There has to be a reason, right? Something going on there that makes them want me? I mean, me and Buffy, not exactly in the same league.”

“Will’s got a point. She’s way out of my league in the things of scholastic-ness, and in the magic-stuff. What kind of weird school wants me when they can have her?”

“That’s not what I meant!” Willow wrinkled up her face at Buffy. “You know it’s not! Buffy… I just meant, you’re the Chosen One, one girl in every generation…”

“Maybe two,” Xander put in helpfully.

“Well, if Buffy would stop dying… that’s major mojo, Buff. I’m just, well, me. Willow Rosenberg, good at reading books.”

“Including books locked in a librarian’s private stash,” Giles coughed.

“Well… um. About that.” Willow looked down at her knees. “I’m, ah, also good at picking locks? I learned it for the scooby-age! This summer. I mean, what with the… I’m just gonna shut up now.”

“Mm-hrrm. We’ll discuss this when we are back in Sunnydale, Willow. As for now — much as I am loathe to say it, Xander, Buffy, Willow is correct. The matter is immensely complicated, and we — or at least I, and possibly your mothers — are going to have to spend some time talking to this Director Avonmorea before anything can be worked out. I am certain that she will understand our situation, once it is explained to her.”

“Wait, are you just going to be like, ‘this is the Slayer, she cannot leave?’” Willow put on a deep, ominous sounding voice. “Because,” she returned to her normal perkiness with a quick throat-clearing, “what about that whole ‘vampires are a secret, don’t tell anyone’ thing that you were just lambasting Buffy about?” She drew the word out with a relish.

Giles did not seem to appreciate it. “I assure you, anyone to whom I will need to explain the situation with Buffy to that detail will already be aware of…” He caught his breath and swallowed. “Oh, my.”

Willow did not answer. She was pressed against the seat back, her hands flat on the upholstery, her already-pale skin white.

Buffy, to her left, had a death grip on the door handle and her right hand fisted in her lap. “Giles…” she managed. “Something is…”

“Wards,” Willow forced out.

Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1134781.html

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The Gods Not Tamed, a continuation of a fanfic of Narnia and Valdemar

first: A Door in the Wall
Second: On the Other Side of the Door
Third: The Call Comes Again
Fourth: New Travelling Companions
Fifth: Complications and then Complications
Sixth: Stranger Things
Seventh: A Change and Changes
Eighth: But Not A Return

The next morning found mounts, Soleck, Leffen, breakfast, and packed saddle bags waiting for the four of them. Breakfast, as laid out by Marna and Orna, was heavy, filling, and delicious. The horses were horses only, as far as Susan could tell, solid working beasts that seemed placid, easy rides. Well, Soleck had no way of knowing they’d spent a lifetime in the saddle, and these may have been the rides available. Susan hoped she wasn’t taking a beast someone needed to pull a plow.

“One more day I will travel with you, and then one more morning. After that, the sight of a Herald and Companion is likely to spook His Highness or cause the wrong rumors to go to the wrong ears. There will be other guides, however.” Soleck half-bowed apologetically. “We would not send you off into strange wilderness alone.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Edmund quipped quietly. He cleared his throat when Soleck looked at him strangely. “We appreciate the guides. It’s a strange place, like you said. We’d likely get awfully turned around without some help.”

That, Susan thought, might be laying it on a bit heavily, but Soleck accepted it.

“There will be maps, of course. And there is a compass for guiding you. But maps and compasses can sometimes be tricky when you do not know if the road you are on is Center Street or The Grand Aisle, no?” He grinned, amused, and it was such an infectious expression that Susan found herself smiling back at him.

“Oh, certainly,” Ed agreed cheerfully. “It does no good to say you’ve got seventeen leagues between Caer… between one place and the next if you’ve got no idea where you are in relation to either place, or even how to recognize either place when you get there.”

“Indeed. And so we will do what we can to guide you, and make certain you know where you are on those maps when your guides leave you. There are better solutions, I am sure…” He hesitated as Leffen tossed his head, but whatever the Companion was saying, he was not sharing it with the rest of them. “…other solutions, certainly, but this is the solution we have.”

None of them questioned that, for what could they say? They rode in silence instead, and for Susan’s part, at least, she studied the countryside, its farmlands and its rolling hills so like places she had been before, and so different.

“Look,” Lu would say, from time to time, “a kestrel,” or “Look, a squirrel,” and she was as excited about both, so Susan knew her sister’s thoughts were along similar paths as her own.

The boys were quieter, but once in a while, Ed would point out a road sign or some curiosity, or Peter would point out the slope of a roof or a way the rocks were put together in a wall. Nobody said remember when we saw this in Narnia?; the habit was too ingrained in all of them. But it was writ large, even in the way they wore their tunics and breeches and split skirts, even in the way they sat on their placid, easy mounts.

Susan noticed, too, the way Soleck was looking at them. She’d catch him looking at Edmund and Peter discussing the strategic importance of a specific wall, or Lucy humming thoughtfully about the the flow of a particular creek. She’d catch him looking at her studying the people walking down the road or riding in carts or carriages.

“You four are… interesting,” he said, slowly and ruefully, when he realized he’d been caught out watching. “I begin to understand what it is the Sunlord would see, to bring you here. You are right, you Edmund, that people will see what they do of your stature, and they will not see what they should of your nature.”

He sounded, Susan thought, a little bit sad. She kneed her horse a little closer to Leffen and looked up at him through a fringe of hair. It was a tactic Lucy had decried on more than one occasion — but on more occasions than that, it had gotten Susan quite far. “Is something amiss, Soleck?”

“Amiss?” His smile was even more triste than he had sounded previously. “This world, I believe, is amiss, that we would send children such as your brother and sister into such difficult situations. I see that the SunLord had his reasons, but the reasons of those above are not for ones like me to question.”

“He’s not a tame SunLord,” Lucy muttered.

“No,” Soleck answered, sounding more than a little bit confused, “tame he is most definitely not.”

“It’s a, a thing we said about our… our god, the one who sent us here,” Susan managed to explain, but that did little, if anything, to wipe the lost and unhappy look from Soleck’s face.

She supposed there were not that many people who could say, as she and Lu could, that they had ridden on the back of the Lion of Narnia, that they had cuddled the mane of their god.

She cleared her throat and, rather than attempting to explain what she imagined might be impossible to make clear, she changed the subject. “You mentioned maps, but what of the lay of the land. That is… we are in Valdemar. You said you were a Karsite. That is a part of Valdemar or another nation?”

“Oh, another nation, most definitely.” He looked startled at the question. Interesting. “To the south and the east of Valdemar, not all that far from here, as such things go.”

“And Is Valdemar on a coast? What other nations border it?”

“Truly these are things you do not know? But you must have come from somewhere…” Soleck shook his head as Leffen danced in place, not “speaking” such that they Pevensies could hear, but being quite clear on his opinions nevertheless. Soleck coughed. “Ahem. So. Rethwellen borders Valdemar peacefully, and…”

By the time he was done, Susan found herself wishing for maps and a pad in which to write this. How had she ever learned all this, back in Narnia? More importantly, by the time she was done, the angry and confused look had vanished from Soleck’s face.

“Thank you for the briefing.” She bowed formally from horse-back, only to see Soleck flushing again. “It does make our job easier.”

“And you, in turn, make mine easier. Thank you.” He sounded confused rather than grateful. Susan wondered what was bothering him.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1122353.html. You can comment here or there. comment count unavailable

The Hellmouth Job, Part II (A Leverage/Buffy Fanfic)

Part I

“All right, so here we go. Missing students and kids include Andromeda Wallace, Felicity Norton, Princessa Washington… okay, I’m going to stop listing names for a moment and ask what the hell is up with these people and their names? I mean, seriously? Andromeda?”

“It’s California,” Eliot scoffed. “They probably think that it’s bad karma or bad feng shui or something to give your kid a name someone else has.”

“Historically,” Sophie offered, “in many cultures, it’s considered good luck to give your children the names of those who have come before.” She mentioned it more to Parker, who was sitting next to her, playing the role of her teenaged cousin, then to Hardison and Eliot sitting behind them.

“Mmm,” Parker agreed. “Or a street.” She smiled, bright and sharp, and then, just as quickly, her smile vanished. She twisted in her seat to look at Hardison. “So these kids… what sort of youth group is this? I mean…”

“The thing is… I’m not sure. I mean, this isn’t any ‘Boys and Girls Club’ thing, this is set up in one of the nicer neighborhoods in what’s a pretty rich school district. This is like, rich kid day care, but for the evenings, and for kids too old to really need day care.”

“Keep ‘em out of trouble,” Eliot opined. “GIve ‘em something to do so they’re not just spendin’ mommy and daddy’s money.”

“But now they’re in even more trouble.” Parker frowned. “Well, we think they are, right? I mean… sometimes missing kids just run away.”

Nate coughed. He’d been quiet, pretending to study a tourist guide to Bright Sunnydale. “It is a rare case that a runaway finds a benevolent mentor who’s a good fit for her, Parker. Many runaways… well, they need rescuing, too, even if they don’t know it yet.”

“Still, I mean. We’re not just returning these kids to sender, are we?”

“If it turns out they want to be lost…” Hardison began.

“Then it’s still illegal.” Eliot’s frown took on a sharp edge. “Anything you do involving kids is illegal, pretty much.”

“Everything we do is illegal, man.”

“I bought a pair of shoes last week,” Sophie offered. “Bought, as in paid for. Now, mind, the price I paid for them ought to be a crime. But it wasn’t technically illegal.”

“You stole the money though, right?” Parker popped her gum. “And the dress?”

“Well, of course, I’m not insane.”

“That’s different.” Eliot’s growl was tense. Both women stopped and looked at him. “I’m serious, guys. One, the people that mess with kids are shit, the absolute worst. They’re going to fight dirtier than…”

“…Moreau?”

“Yes. Dirtier than him. Dirtier than anything you’ve seen. Two… Do not,” he dropped his voice to a fierce whisper, “ever let the cops find you out doing anything at all involving kids. They can get you, and they will, because they can’t get the real assholes.”

“Yes please, two of those lovely little drinks, thank you.” Hardison smiled at the flight attendant. “And could I get a pillow? Maybe some headphones? I know, everyone wants everything, and there’s only the one of you to go around, but you’re a sweetheart to try. Thank you, thank you.” He continued gushing until she scurried off, a little confused but, more importantly, no longer paying attention to what Eliot had been saying. “Man,” he added, annoyed, “we are on a public plane. They will arrest my ass if they think that I am doing anything remotely suspicious. Do not get me arrested again, Eliot.”

“That time in Cancun doesn’t count,” Eliot snapped. “Man, just because—” his annoyance faded into a reminiscent smile as he leaned back in the seat “—that nice policegirl had a thing for me…”

Hardison opened his mouth, gestured, and shut his mouth without saying anything.

“So anyway,” Parker picked up. “We’re just looking. When we find things, then we make a plan for the next step. Wait.” She wrinkled her nose at Nate. “Then we decide which plan we’re going to use.”

“As long as it’s not the one where I die,” Hardison mumbled.

———

“All right.” Willow frowned at the screen. “That’s seventeen people missing in the last month. I’ve managed to eliminate ten of them. We were there when Alberta died…”

“Alas, poor Alberta,” Xander sighed, speaking to a skull. “Wait, this isn’t her, is it?”

“That one’s plastic, Xander.” Buffy took it from him. “You can tell from the whitey-ness. Real skulls aren’t usually that bright.”

“Guys,” Willow complained. “I know we didn’t actually know Alberta, but come on. Feel a little bad for someone transferring into the school and getting killed on her first day.”

“I feel that,” Buffy conceded. “So… ten ‘known causes’, known to us, at least. What are the other seven?”

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But Not A Return, a continuation of a fanfic of Narnia and Valdemar

(It’s friday somewhere? *innocent*
first: A Door in the Wall
Second: On the Other Side of the Door
Third: The Call Comes Again
Fourth: New Travelling Companions
Fifth: Complications and then Complications
Sixth: Stranger Things
Seventh: A Change and Changes

“It seems like they’re used to Heralds coming through,” Peter whispered into the dark. Marna’s friend Orna had put them all up in a broad sleeping loft where, she told them, her sons had slept before they’d left the house.

“And as they’ve not come back with wives and children yet, well, the space is open and someone might as well sleep there,” she’d continued, fussing over all of their protestations. “And there’s food for the eating, and the clothes fit you two well enough, and…” And on she’d gone, but she hadn’t turned down Susan and Lucy’s offers of help in the kitchen, nor Peter and Edmund’s offer to split wood for the coming winter.

“Even our age, or younger. Soleck had to explain a couple times that we hadn’t been Chosen, whatever that means. Seems like these Heralds do a lot more than just pass messages,” Edmund offered.

“If the Horses – Companions – are that rare here, it would make sense. You might team a messenger up with a talking Horse if you had them, or for a very urgent message…” Lucy had skill in keeping her voice very quiet, and yet sounding excited and ready to jump from her bed, as she did now.

“I heard them ask Soleck for a judgement on a small matter,” Peter murmured. “And he sounded as if he was used to such things. It seems reasonable that he might be empowered to send us on such a mission as this.”

“The question is,” Susan put in, “the mission itself. Not only ‘can we do it’, but should we? I mean… we can assume that Aslan sent us here, and if we assume that, then yes, we should do the mission. But…”

“But a cat is not a lion,” Peter agreed quietly, “and there are times when others pretend to speak with Aslan’s voice. I say… I say we go along for the time being, and do our best not to stumble too badly.”

“At least until we can find out what a stumble might mean, here.” Edmund sounded thoughtful. “I mean, will we end being turned to stone, or, well…”

“Causing a major diplomatic incident by wearing the wrong veil,” Susan filled in. She had made her own mistakes, back in Narnia, back on Earth. “Or simply irritate an ambassador by being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“We should tread carefully and make friends,” Lucy agreed brightly. “It’s a nice world, so far. The people are nice. The houses are nice.”

“I do miss Mr. and Mrs. Beaver,” Susan admitted softly. “But this is a nice house. And everyone’s been so kind so far.”

“Perhaps there’s a war.” Peter sounded distant. “Lucy and Ed are right. We’ll have to tread very carefully indeed here. We’ll have to remember that this isn’t home – and that this isn’t home, either.”

“But we can find their… but we can do this mission, yes?” Lucy was nearly leaning out of her bunk. “It sounds like quite the adventure!”

“We can take the mission, yes.” Peter sounded like himself again. Trust Lucy to remind him he had a heart. “Something brought us here, after all. We should find out what, at the very least. And the best way to do that is to play along.”

Susan curled in her bunk, trying to ignore the cold feeling in her chest. She had often been the pragmatic one in their little team. Why, now, was she fighting it?

She wrapped her arms around her knees and made herself sound bright as she backed Peter up. “I’m sure we can learn much more about them than they’d expect. As Ed said, we look younger than we are.”

“We are younger than we are,” Lucy laughed. “I wonder how long we’ll be here, this time…?”

“I’m sure we’ll find out. Just don’t leave any pots on the boil anywhere,” Edmund joked.

“But for now,” Peter put in firmly, “we should sleep. We’ll have a long day ahead of us in the morning.”

Susan closed her eyes. An old verse of Narnian poetry came to her mind, and she recited the words silently until she could make herself sleep.

My love, I but stepped out a bit; my love, I but to the fence did flit.
My love, ‘twas just a moment gone. I swear I would return anon.


next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1122353.html

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The Hellmouth Job, Part I (A Leverage/Buffy Fanfic)

So, http://www.tthfanfic.org/ has a policy that your first post has to be a crossover, Buffy/something they acknowledge as another fandom, and they’ve not decided if Addergoole is a fandom (by their lights). So: Leverage/BuffyVerse, with possibly at least two other crossovers, depending on how this goes. Timelines bent to suit.

“Awww, come on, Nate, this doesn’t seem like our kind of gig at all. And California? Do you remember what happened the last time we went to California?” Hardison slid his favorite laptop into a bag and added a stack of peripherals. “Besides, that means we have to fly, which means TSA, which means…”

“No fun toys at all,” Parker picked up. “Nothing that is illegal in any state — which is just about everything, if you really start looking. Did you know sex toys are illegal in Alabama? What?” She looked up at Eliot. “There was a job. I had to steal a thing.”

“I hate to say it, Nate, but are you sure about this?” Eliot looked ruefully at his duffle bag and pulled out three short knives. “The last time we were on an airplane…”

“Seriously, you guys, you’d think you weren’t in the same place as I was last week while we had that nice motivating discussion,” Sophie tutted. “We’re going to do a job, because someone needs us. That’s what we do, right? We do jobs.”

“We do jobs in, say, the Boston area.” Hardison frowned at his computer screen. “Not in ‘Scenic Sunnydale, California.’ Man, this place looks like it came out of a Barbie-doll catalog. Blondes with tans as far as the eye can see.”

“It’ll be good for you, Hardison.” Nate closed his briefcase with a thump. “You need more work on blending.”

“Blending? Blending? Man, do you see these pictures?”

“What’s wrong with blondes?” Parker picked up a strand of her hair and studied it. “I’m blonde. Tara’s blonde and tan. Eliot was blonde once, for that job where we—”

“We don’t talk about that job,” Eliot growled. “We never talk about that job.”

“I’m just saying, there’s nothing wrong with being blonde.”

“Parker, it’s—” Hardison threw up his hands. “You know, I give up. So, who’s the target?”

“Well, that’s where things get interesting.” Sophie pursed her lips. “We’re not sure. We have a nickname, more or less…”

“‘The Master.’” Nate grimaced.

“A nickname,” Sophie continued, “and a series of missing people.”

“‘The Master?’” Eliot grinned awkwardly. “Is that like, uh, like that job down in the warehouse district…” His smile slipped. “And that girl that punched me for ‘rescuing’ her?”

“That’s not the vibe we’re getting. And before you ask, Hardison, no, we can’t just let the police handle this. The police had told our client — and I quote — ‘missing people aren’t our job.’”

“So the force is in on it.” Parker leaned back in her chair and put her feet on the table. “Cops on the take, a ‘Master’, missing kids. What’s our angle?”

“All of the kids have been part of an after-school club that formed just a few months ago. Their motto is ‘fill idle hours with productivity. And it just so happens their founding coincides with this most recent spike in child disappearances.”

“…’most recent?’” Eliot frowned. “What, like, this happens a lot?”

“That’s what the client said. Flight leaves in an hour, gang. Let’s go steal us a youth group.”

———

“Guys, have you seen Topher anywhere?” Xander was pacing already when Buffy and Willow made it to the library. “Buffy, you didn’t stake him, did you? Did you stake my partner for the super-important half-my-final-grade project, the project that said partner just happens to be carrying most of the load on? I mean… I know you stake vampires, I’m just saying, if you could maybe not stake this one for a little while, just long enough for him to help me finish this project…”

“Topher? Tall, lanky, bad attitude, likes to argue at length?” Buffy frowned. “Nope, haven’t staked him. Haven’t seen him, either. Come to think of it, my partner’s missing too. I think.”


Part II

Available on Twisting the Hellmouth

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Buffy: the Invitation (an Addergoole Crossover), Part V

Part I: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1096503.html
Part II: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1100922.html
Part III: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1104619.html#cutid1
Part IV: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1108537.html

“Who knew that vampires could be so stupid? I mean, obviously, vampires are often stupid, but is it me, or was that beyond the stupid? And then the look on that girl’s face, like you had just performed some sort of arcane act of killage…”

“Well, technically, she…”

“Clearly,” Giles cleared his throat, “I cannot allow you to go out unsupervised in a strange city.”

“Hello? Slayer.” Buffy glared at Giles from the back seat. She was feeling less than clear-headed after a very early morning had followed a rather late night. “When there are vampires, I slay them.”

“Indeed. And the part where you explained to the girl — what is it Xander said?”

“‘Vampire, suck blood, rawr. Wooden stake, heart, poof,’” Xander helpfully recited.

“Yes, that. You do remember that vampires are supposed to be secret?”

Buffy scoffed. “Come on, you can explain that stuff a hundred times to people and they never really get it. Next week, they’re all, like, ‘barbeque fork accident’ and ‘wild dog attack’ and going back out into the alleyways with mysterious strangers.”

“Well, in Sunnydale, yes. There has always been a strange Working — that is, a magic spell — tied to the Hellmouth there. It seems to make people forgetful, as you say. But we are no longer in Sunnydale, and such things are not nearly as thick. She may remember that there are vampires — or she may merely remember that a blonde girl told her some ridiculous things. Either way, we do not wish to leave a trail like a dotted line pointing from Sunnydale to Addergoole.”

“Guess that would be rude,” Buffy allowed. “‘Hi, new school. Look, all my enemies followed me.’ I guess then maybe they’d stop trying to enroll me.” She aimed a pointed look at the rear-view mirror.

Giles clucked. “Buffy, I know — I know the sort of people we’re dealing with here. Please do not attempt to convince them that you are not student material. Please do not attempt to convince them of anything at all. It will only lead to them being displeased without changing their mind one bit. It might even cause them to be more determined to enroll you.”

“Look, Giles, I don’t get the big. Get the Watcher Council involved if you have to. Nobody’s gonna let me move out of Sunnydale. The Hellmouth. The Place of All The Apocalypses. I mean, especially not to Nowhere South Dakota. I mean, they’ve probably never even heard of vampires out there. What do they get, mm? Corn demons?”

“As hard as this may be for you to believe, and as loathe as I am to admit it, there are powers bigger than the Watcher Council in existence, and one of them may be in play here. And, if I am correct about the origins of that invitation, there may be other commitments at hand than your commitment to being a Slayer—”

“Look, it’s not my commitment that’s the problem. It’s the fact that it’s a mystical thing that doesn’t go away. Here I was hoping that, you know, maybe I could share the duties, and then, well, things, and I dunno, nobody seems to have replaced Kendra. So no, it’s not my commitment at issue here.”

Giles coughed. “By that I meant, not your personal commitment, but the fact that by being Chosen, you were committed to the role. I am not questioning your dedication, Buffy, and I know this has been very hard for you…”

“Vampire. Stake it. Move on.” She rolled her shoulders and flopped back. “Not hard. Just a thing.”

Giles paused for a moment, frowning into the rear-view mirror. He coughed, checked the road, and frowned at the rear-view one more time. “Yes. Well. What I am saying is this: It is likely someone made a commitment on your part — and Willow’s — that you would attend this school, just as it is likely that someone made a commitment on your part that you would be the Slayer. It is not precisely fair, but it is often the way of things in more mystical dealings.”

“Yeah. I’m beginning to get the ‘not fair’ part.” She looked out the window, clearly done talking.

Giles continued anyway. “There may very arise a question of which commitment takes precedence. And, while this has not happened before as far as I know, it is also possible that the Watcher’s Council would suppress such information.”

“The Watchers? Those lovely pieces of humanity? Suppress information? Say it ain’t so!?” Xander made wide eyes and his best innocent face. “Especially anything that could get the Buffster off the hook. Man… wait. There’s something that could get the Buffster off the hook?”

Giles coughed.

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