FIC: These Roads We Travel (15/?)

[Kimber <kacoe@xxxxxxx>]

Well, after a very unexpected whirlwind weekend away from smog ridden and cold New Jersey,
I've found my muse smiling upon me once again. Where was I you ask? Let's just say I
visited the pit in person. And what a WONDERFUL pit it is! Despite the bantam weight
mosqitos. {note to self: next time pack the industrial strength skeeter repelant so as
not to become a free open all night Kimber-buffet. :) }

--------

TITLE: These Roads We Travel (15/?)
AUTHOR: Kimber (kacoe@xxxxxxx)
DISCLAIMER: All BTVS characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.
SUMMARY: The long awaited next story in "The Road Series".
SPOILERS: Everything is fair game.
DISTRIBUTION: The usual suspects. Anyone else, e-mail me please.
AUTHORS NOTES: This comes because I've had so many great responses to the series and
many people begging for another. Be careful what you wish for.

{{Indicates flashbacks}}
-----------

She couldn't stand it anymore. It was pure torture. No, it was worse than torture  she
was almost positive of that fact. She'd never faced a demon so disgusting or a vampire so
tough  she was able to take them all down. But this, this was different. She wasn't
sure if she was gonna make it, wasn't sure how much longer she could hold out. She was
sure to snap any second now. Any seco---

"Laurel!" Lisa waved her hand in front of her friends face.

Laurel snapped her head up. "Wha?" The four of them were sitting in the local iced cream
parlor. Faith sat next to Laurel and across from them were Buffy and Lisa. Three sets of
eyes regarded the young Slayer curiously. "What?" She asked again.

"You're staring off into space like someone put a spell on you or something. What's up?"

Laurel shrugged. "Nothing really, I'm kinda beat is all, and we still have to go on
patrol after this." She slumped back in her seat.

"We can cover it." Buffy looked over at Faith.

"We can?" Faith's eyebrows shot up in curiosity.

"Yeah. Why not? It'll be like old times. What was it you used to say? 'We're the
chosen two, girlfriend'." Buffy smiled.

"It's covered." Laurel looked over at her mother.

"It's not a problem, Laurel, really. I was hoping to---"

"It's covered." Laurel said a little more evenly. She got up and turned her gaze to
Lisa. "Come on. Shouldn't take long then we'll go back to Papa's." Lisa rose without a
word. Laurel began to walk out but turned back to them. "I know. I don't want to talk
about it right now but, I know."

Buffy looked at her, confused. "Laurel, what are you. . .?" A look of realization
crossed her face. "Oh."

"Laurel, wait." Faith stood and walked towards her.

"Stop right there." She put her hand up. "You may have been a Slayer longer than I have
but you're old and I can kick your ass."

"Laurel!" Lisa looked at her in shock.

"Come on." Laurel took Lisa's hand and pulled her out of the iced cream shop.

Faith watched them walk off then turned around to look at Buffy.

"Don't say it." Buffy shook her head.

"I told you this was a bad idea."

"I told you not to say it."

"Doesn't make it any less true, B." Faith said sadly.

Buffy whispered. "I know."

--------

"I beg of you, please listen." She looked around. "Where ever you are." She muttered.

Willow stood in a white marble chamber. It was spacious and windows lined the walls from
floor to ceiling. Through the windows was the great expanse of space and nothing but
space. Millions of stars twinkled in the inky blackness. She stood in the chamber of The
Powers That Be.

"It is you who does not understand, little one." A mist swirled around Willow and
gathered into solidity. Before Willow stood a young woman. Her hair was the color of
gold and she wore a cream colored tunic with a gold rope wrapped around her slender
waist. Her eyes were dark blue and it was as if the tide rose and fell in them. She was
by no means petite or fragile. She smiled at Willow and wove her hands in front of them
both. Out of thin air, an intricate network of threads appeared. It stretched from the
floor through the ceiling with no end in sight. "I am Aisa, more commonly known as
Lachesis. I am the measurer of threads and am responsible for allotting each being it's
portion in life."

Another mist swirled around and out from Lachesis and another woman appeared. She was
middle aged, with light brown hair streaked with gray. She wore the same tunic as
Lachesis, only it was light brown and didn't cling to her body. She could be described as
Rubinesque and full figured yet just as attractive as the young Lachesis. Her eyes were
dark gold and it was as if they were ever changing from gold to dark brown and back
again. She smiled warmly at Willow. "I am Moira or Clotho if you please. I spin the
thread of life which I gather from the abyss."

Lachesis gestured to the window and a thin strand of gold thread came through it and
across the room. The end of the thread hovered just above Willow's eye level. "That is
the beginning. Now, chose where the thread is to end."

Willow looked at the woman in shock. "I can't. I have no right to decide when someone's
life will end. I'm no one really, I came here as a last resort, to see if you could help
me get back to my family. I---"

Clotho put her hand up to silence her. "Chose, child. Choose carefully. Concentrate."

Willow gulped and took a deep breath. She looked intently at the thread and images began
to form in her mind. Female, two parents, middle class, intelligent, well spoken. She
realized that the thread was speaking to her, telling her about it's life. She walked
along the length of it and saw portions of this soon-to-be persons' life. When she
reached a point where she thought the female would have been able to look back and say she
had a good life, she chose. "Here." Carefully she pointed to part of the thread where it
was to be cut.

Another mist swirled out of both woman and took form. This time, it was a much older
woman. Her hair was all gray and she was hunched over slightly. She wore a tunic of
black with a gold rope around her waist. Her eyes were as black as night and there was no
sign of movement in them  physically or even emotionally. In her hand, she held a golden
pair of cutting shears. "I am Daimon, or Atropos. The lady of the shears and it is my
duty to sever the thread of life at the appointed time." She walked slowly over to Willow
and handed her the shears. "I now give this responsibility to you."

Willow thought about protesting, but knew it wouldn't do her and good. She carefully cut
the thread where she'd chosen. The end of it retracted back out the window, and the
single thread hung in the air before her. She handed the shears back to Atropos.

"Put your hands out, child." Lachesis said.

Willow obeyed and the thread floated slowly down to her hands.

In your hands, you hold one woman's thread of life." She pointed to the network of
threads. "Choose a beginning."

Willow was in awe. She looked down at the thread in her hands with reverence, then back
up to the network. How was she to decide where this person's beginnings would be? Who
was she to decide at all? She shook her head. "I. . .I can't. I have no right."

"I'm giving you the right. For now." Lachesis gestured to the network again. "Look
carefully and choose."

Willow stepped up to the web and began to concentrate on it. She began to understand
where each thread began and each ended. Some began in isolation, without any other
threads near them, and ended where you could barely distinguish the thread from the
hundreds of others that surrounded it. Others began with threads surrounding them, yet
ended alone. She took a few moments and pointed to a cluster of threads in the center.
"There."

"Very well then." Lachesis smiled at her. The thread lifted up from Willows hands and
settled into the cluster she'd chosen. It snaked it's way through the other threads to
where it was indistinguishable.

Clotho and Atropos melted away into the mist they first appeared as and gathered around
Lachesis. The mist seemed to disappear into her. Lachesis walked around the network and
studied it. After a few moments, she turned to Willow and smiled once again. "You've
chosen wisely, little one. The woman is to live a good life. She will grow and flourish
in a wonderful two parent home, never wanting, never deprived. She will live to be
twenty."

Willow was smiling, but when she heard the age she gasped. "Twenty? That's so young! I
thought you said I chose wisely? I thought I gave her a good life?"

"You did chose a good life for her." Lachesis stopped in front of the network and pointed
to a cluster of threads. "Here. She was on her way to meet her fiancé in London. The
plane was hijacked and because the two governments could not concur on a solution, all of
the passengers were executed." Lachesis turned to Willow. "You see, no matter how well
any being plans their life and future, most if not all of them fail to factor in one
important thing."

Willow looked at her and understood. She nodded and smiled sadly. "The path and fate of
others."

Lachesis nodded. "No matter how well you plan, you cannot plan *through* other people's
lives. You must plan with them."

"But that's impossible. How are you supposed to know what every other person you come in
contact with is planning? How can you know what's the right and wrong thing to do? How
can you control it. . .any of it?"

"You can't, Willow. *You* can't control it or manipulate it or even change it into
anything other than what it was always meant to be. Something that was always meant to be
no matter how badly you didn't want it to happen."

Willow's eyes fell to the floor. She understood finally the lesson the Powers were trying
to teach her. She took matters into her own hands and tried to change fate, tried to
tempt it. Regardless of what happened to her, fate kept plowing forward towards the end
of the thread that was chosen, measured, cut carefully, and placed among the others.
Nothing could change that. Not even Willow. "I understand." She whispered.

Lachesis approached her and placed her hand on Willow's shoulder. "Your daughter's fate
has been sealed since even before you were old enough to daydream about holding her in
your arms. She is the Chosen one. The one girl in all the world who will bring peace to
the earth. Her fate, her thread of life is destined for this and nothing can or will
change that."

"And what about me? What's to become of me and my life? Or even my current state."
Willow looked up at Lachesis with pleading eyes.

"You've tempted the fates, little one. That deed has not gone unpunished." Lachesis saw
Willow flinch, but continued on. "As I have said, we are all destined to be something.
Significant or not, we all have a purpose. You must figure out what your purpose is
now. Have you not looked upon your current state as a blessing instead of a curse?
Haven't you thought about what it means to be who and what you are? There is reasoning
behind everything, little one. In order to see the reasoning, sometimes one must think
outside the box so to speak."

Willow smiled. "Little one." She whispered.

Lachesis looked at her curiously and waited for her to continue.

Willow's eyes went wide. "Little one. That's what Angel calls me. His little one. I
noticed you say it before but it didn't click at first." She looked up at Lachesis who
smiled knowingly. "Angel. This has to do with the prophesy. He's a part of it. Why
didn't I see it before?"

"Welcome," Lachesis gestured around the room. "To outside the box."

---------

He was talking to himself. He *never* talked to himself. That was something crazy people
did. . .or old people. Well, he was old in a technical sort of way.

"Oh, great. Since when did I get blessed with Willow's babble tendency?" He shook his
head.

"Stop worrying and stop pacing. You're gonna wear a hole in the floor and I just had it
waxed."

Angel turned around and smiled. "Sorry, Cor."

"You'd think you never faced a prophesy before. God! It's not like you didn't know this
was coming."

"I didn't think it would be so soon. I mean, I'm ready for it, so ready, but I'm afraid
they aren't. Especially Laurel."

Cordelia looked up from her desk. "How do you know what she is and isn't ready for? You
haven't even met her yet." Angel shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. "You
didn't?" He shrugged again. "God! What is it with you and the stalker thing? Haven't
you learned your lesson by now?"

"Cordy, I have to keep my eye on her. I need to know how she is, how she moves, the way
she operates. We're supposed to do this thing together and Buffy and Giles forbidding me
from seeing her isn't gonna give us an edge." He moved over to the window. The sun was
just setting. He knew it without even having to look. . .but it was still a habit of
his. The powers he had began to heighten over the years. His senses were stronger now
and more finely tuned to his surroundings.

"Angel. Are you afraid?"

He nodded and continued to stare out the window.

"You've never really been afraid going into a battle. Should I be worried?"

He turned to her. "Battle?" Angel shook his head. "I'm not scared of the battle." He
turned back to the window and placed his hand on the glass right where his reflection
would have been. "I was talking about becoming human."

------

Your humble bard,
~~Kimber

"Lisa's Personal Pit-Pet" *eg*
Official Noodle wetter and distributor, Gutter-Slut and Vice President and Treasurer of
the Riley/Oz neutering society and garden club...Personnel Recruiter for all main gutter
and sub gutter affairs.



---------------------------
E x q u i s i t e + C o a l e s c e n c e
http://www.redrival.com/exquisite
Your source for fanfiction based on the Buffy & Angel shows.
---------------------------