Re: Fic: Mining for Gold (3/5) "R" Willow/Buffy

["bighotvirgo" <BHV@xxxxxxxxxxx>]

I'm so glad you picked this one back up! It's so much fun and so 
well done. 

--- In buffywantswillow@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx, "Blitzgal" <
xencall@y...> wrote:
> Author: Blitzgal
> Title: Mining for Gold
> Rating: R
> Pairings: Willow/Buffy
> Contact: xencall@y...
> Website: http://undaunted.deadtime.net
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Buffy the Vampire 
Slayer, 
> nor the universe in which they reside. I do, however, own this 
> particular story, as well as Meg and Giselle.
> 
> Distribution: Feel free as long as you keep my contact 
information 
> intact. Other websites may post this fiction if they let me know 
> where and how to find it.
> 
> Summary: This is the story of Giselle Arceneaux, a French 
slayer of 
> the late nineteenth century who heads for the Alaskan 
territories 
> during the height of the gold rush in 1897. She's heard that 
there 
> has been an influx of vampires in the area due to the increase 
in 
> population and the fact that during the winter, the sun is only 
out 
> for a couple of hours a day.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Part Three
> 
> The drunk's slurred speech was almost as offensive as his 
breath. 
> Meg leaned fearfully away from the miner as he pressed even 
> closer. "I ast if you was workin' fer Tilly," he repeated, then 
> belched in her face.
> 
> "I..." Meg hedged, disgusted. As her eyes searched for a way 
to 
> escape, her gaze landed on several brown paper packages 
strewn across 
> the ground. The thought of Libby out here on her own put the 
steel 
> back into her spine.
> 
> "No," she said. Meg gingerly shoved him back, afraid to 
actually 
> touch his filthy coat. Thankfully he was so inebriated that it 
was 
> enough to send him stumbling in the opposite direction. She 
ignored 
> his stuttered protests and hurried toward the remains of 
Libby's 
> purchases.
> 
> It soon became painfully clear that someone had ripped his 
way 
> through the packages, eager to see what was inside. The 
bland eye of 
> a good-sized bass gleamed innocuously up at her from the 
earth. 
> Libby had managed to see the Yarbough's before she'd been 
stopped. 
> Whoever robbed her must have been rather angry to find only 
fish and 
> a few disparate dried goods.
> 
> Staring down at the ground, Meg sighed. The moist earth was 
pretty 
> trampled in this part of town, and it was difficult to judge what 
> kind of a struggle had gone on. A sour twist of guilt flared in 
her 
> belly. If anything happened to Libby, it was her responsibility. 
> Meg should have known better than to trust Paul with 
something so 
> important.
> 
> Glancing around at the sea of tents surrounding her, Meg was 
amazed 
> at how quiet it was this late afternoon. It was as dark as 
midnight, 
> but that shouldn't stop the thrust of commerce glutting the 
streets. 
> There was a pall across Silver Springs. She couldn't help but 
think 
> of Giselle and her explanation for the strangeness.
> 
> She heard a small sound behind her and felt the hairs on the 
back of 
> her neck stand at the ready. Meg shivered as gooseflesh rose 
along 
> her arms. Her hand slid into the folds of her skirt to grasp the 
> solid object tucked away inside. As she prepared to whirl and 
face 
> whoever approached, a choked sob sounded from between 
two nearby 
> tents.
> 
> Meg relaxed as she recognized the gasping breath that 
> followed. "Libby," she whispered. She pressed her way 
between the 
> heavy canvas and found her friend cowering in the cramped 
darkness.
> 
> Libby's sobs increased when she recognized her employer. 
"Mrs. 
> Glass," she murmured, her breath hitching in her chest. "I 
ruined 
> the meat."
> 
> Crouching before the girl, Meg placed a hand on her shoulder 
and 
> asked, "What happened?"
> 
> "They said it were a toll, for passing through the shanty. They 
took 
> it all," Libby cried. "Mrs. Glass, it's all my fault."
> 
> Meg shook her head firmly. "It is not. Paul was supposed to 
come 
> with you. Didn't you ask him?"
> 
> Libby's eyes gleamed with tears in the darkness as they 
opened wide 
> in horror. "He said to go on. He said I should be able to watch 
for 
> myself after all you done for me. I'm sorry, Mrs. Glass."
> 
> Meg felt her rage flare with renewed vigor at the memory of her 
> husband's smug face. "You did nothing wrong, Libby. Do you 
hear 
> me? No one should be out on her own at a time like this."
> 
> She wiped the tears away from Libby's broad cheeks. The girl 
> clutched Meg by the arms then before throwing herself into 
> them. "You're such a good woman," she sobbed. "I know I 
been a 
> trial for you and Mr. Glass. I'm too dumb to work for my keep, 
and 
> you let me stay with you anyway."
> 
> "Don't you ever say that again, Libby," Meg reproached. "You 
are a 
> loyal friend and you have never disappointed me. You are not 
dumb."
> 
> Libby sighed heavily. "I've always been slow, since the scarlet 
> fever," she said. "But I work hard for you and Mr. Glass. To 
make 
> you proud."
> 
> "You make me very proud," Meg avowed. Standing, she pulled 
Libby to 
> her feet. "Let's hurry back home now. We don't belong out 
here."
> 
> They remained arm in arm as they hurried through the tents 
toward the 
> other side of town. The drunk who'd accosted Meg earlier was 
gone, 
> and they didn't see another soul on the streets. Meg began to 
have a 
> terrible feeling about the silence to hit their small mining 
> settlement. People were disappearing, there was no doubt of 
that. 
> And while she once was able to rationalize it away as a 
byproduct of 
> the dangerous lifestyle out here on the frontier, it was getting 
more 
> and more difficult to ignore.
> 
> She almost didn't see the tall figure step out as they rounded a 
> large tent, but in the next moment his eyes were unmistakable. 
> Burning through the darkness like twin candle flames, they 
> immediately lit on the two women in their path.
> 
> "Well, hello," the man spoke gallantly. "And how are you ladies 
on 
> this fine Thursday afternoon?"
> 
> Meg skittered to a halt and forced Libby behind her. When the 
> smaller woman squeaked an instant later, Meg glanced over 
her 
> shoulder to see another man creeping toward them.
> 
> "You..." Meg started, then floundered as her breath vanished. 
"You 
> stay away from us," she finally warned.
> 
> The man laughed. "We mean no offense," he said. "My friend 
and I 
> have been traveling hard this past fortnight, and I have to say, 
it's 
> been a long time since I've laid eyes on a woman."
> 
> Meg understood that the lust in his voice wasn't sexual. He 
was the 
> Wolf in all the fairytales she'd ever heard as a child--the Wolf 
come 
> to life. She saw a flash of white when he yawned widely to 
reveal 
> his fangs.
> 
> She grabbed Libby by the arm and shoved her toward the 
boarding 
> house. They could see the roof of the general store where they 
> stood, and if they managed to reach it in time they would be 
> safe. "Run," she urged the woman, shoving her again.
> 
> Libby took only two timid steps before Meg fell to the ground. 
The 
> vampire had pounced the moment she forced her friend 
toward safety. 
> Her forehead slammed into the semi-frozen ground, dazing 
her. The 
> scent of death enveloped her as the man pressed his body 
against 
> hers. Meg dug her fingers into the earth beneath her and tried 
to 
> push herself up. The creature flung his weight against her and 
> forced her flat across the ground once more. Grasping her by 
the 
> hair, he twisted her head back and to the right, exposing her 
neck.
> 
> Frantically, Meg groped the folds of her dress. Her weapon 
was 
> trapped beneath her leg. Choking back a terrified sob, Meg 
jabbed 
> her elbow as hard as she could into the vampire's gut. In the 
> instant his weight released as he shifted back to avoid another 
blow, 
> she rolled onto her back and yanked the large wooden crucifix 
out of 
> her skirt. When she held it out toward him, the vampire threw 
his 
> hands before his face and hissed angrily.
> 
> He retreated several feet away and watched her warily. Visibly 
> trembling, Meg pushed herself to her feet. She continued to 
hold the 
> cross aloft, and the vampire did not attempt to follow her 
movement.
> 
> "Libby?" Meg asked. When the woman didn't answer, she 
risked a 
> glance over her shoulder.
> 
> The second vampire nearly had her bent in half, leaning her 
backwards 
> in his attempts to feed. With a start, Meg realized exactly what 
the 
> creatures wanted. She'd heard the men discuss the book 
written by 
> that raving Irishman, and like everyone else she thought it was 
> nothing more than horrific fantasy. But Stoker had spoken the 
> truth. These were animals that survived solely on the blood of 
> others.
> 
> Barely considering the consequences, Meg rushed the second 
vampire. 
> Wielding the heavy cross like a hammer, she smashed it 
across the 
> back of his head. The vampire screeched in surprise and 
pain. In 
> the instant the holy object touched him it burned into his flesh.
> 
> He whirled on her angrily, then paused and smiled. Meg 
recalled the 
> first creature a moment too late. He grabbed her from behind 
and 
> pinned her arms against her sides. The cross was suddenly 
useless as 
> it pressed against her thigh. She squirmed in his grasp, but 
he was 
> far too strong. He barely grunted in response when she lifted 
her 
> foot to kick him in the shin.
> 
> Pressing his lips close to her right ear, he whispered, "Keep 
> struggling. It makes the blood sweeter."
> 
> The sound of a clucking tongue made the quartet pause in 
> confusion. "You never learn, Bartlett," a lightly accented voice 
> slid through the darkness like a caress. "The more halfwit 
minions 
> you create, the more entertainment you give me."
> 
> The second vampire gasped and lurched forward. Meg 
couldn't see what 
> had struck him, but when he burst into a flurry of dust an 
instant 
> later, she spotted a familiar pale face and blonde hair appear 
behind 
> him. She barely had a chance to digest this information before 
the 
> first vampire flung her away from him.
> 
> "Slayer," Bartlett sneered. "Why are you slumming around 
here? Did 
> Renato escape that quickly?"
> 
> Giselle stepped forward, frowning. "I would have hoped you'd 
assume 
> that I've killed him," she pouted.
> 
> Grinning, Bartlett shook his head. "A little thing like you? After 
> five hundred years and seven fallen Slayers, it will take more 
than a 
> Frenchwoman to finish that old goat."
> 
> "Meg, Libby," Giselle began. "Please stand behind me."
> 
> Still clutching her cross, Meg obeyed. When she reached 
Libby's 
> side, the other woman grabbed her tightly around the waist 
and 
> refused to let go.
> 
> "You hold Renato in such esteem," Giselle told Bartlett. "Yet 
you 
> continue with this charade? What makes you think you'll be 
able to 
> master any number of comrades? I've killed your last four 
> companions."
> 
> Bartlett scowled at her. "Take your girls home," he said. To 
Meg's 
> surprise, he gave her a lascivious look before adding, 
"Redhead this 
> time, huh? Much better choice-younger than that gristly old 
hag. 
> I've still got that nasty taste in the back of my throat."
> 
> He reached up to pick at his teeth with his dirty fingernails. 
> Giselle nearly snarled at him. When she took another step 
toward 
> him, Meg called her name. The Frenchwoman seemed to 
realize her 
> place just then. Bartlett tipped an imaginary hat as she hurried 
> toward Meg and Libby.
> 
> "It doesn't mean you've beaten her," Meg defended, startling 
herself 
> more than anyone. "You're just delaying the inevitable."
> 
> Bartlett shook his head and snickered at her. She glanced at 
> Giselle, who barely met her eyes. The blonde woman grasped 
Libby by 
> the arm and urged her to start walking. When Meg returned 
her gaze 
> to the vampire standing several yards away, she saw that he'd 
> disappeared into the darkness.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Libby slept peacefully in the room directly above their heads as 
Meg 
> and Giselle locked themselves into the blonde woman's room. 
They'd 
> managed to avoid notice as they crept up the back stairs. Meg 
didn't 
> really want to explain her dirty dress and bloodied forehead to 
any 
> of the boarders. Supper would likely be late that evening, but 
she 
> didn't quite have the heart to use her injury as an excuse for it. 
> She would much rather simply pretend it had never occurred in 
the 
> first place.
> 
> Meg sat primly on the edge of Giselle's bed as the 
Frenchwoman poured 
> water into the washbasin and collected several clean rags. 
"You 
> should not have been outside," Giselle chastised.
> 
> "Someone has to buy the supplies to keep this place running," 
Meg 
> snapped. When Giselle raised her brows in surprise, Meg 
> sighed. "Paul was supposed to take Libby to the general 
store. He 
> let her go out alone. I couldn't just leave her out there."
> 
> Giselle stared at her for a long moment before nodding. "No, I 
> expect you couldn't," she agreed. Somehow Meg thought it 
was meant 
> as a compliment. "I see that you brought a cross with you," 
Giselle 
> added. A small glint of amusement leapt into her hazel eyes.
> 
> Meg stared down at her hands. "You're not crazy," she blurted. 
"Is 
> that what you want to hear?"
> 
> "That will do for now," Giselle allowed. "But you have to 
promise me 
> that you won't wander around by yourself. Bartlett and his gang 
> aren't the only vampires in town."
> 
> "You know him," Meg said. "You know him personally."
> 
> "He killed my best friend," Giselle said quietly. Lifting the 
> washbasin from its perch, she carefully carried it toward the 
bed. 
> She did not meet Meg's eyes as she sat beside her. "I'd been 
> following a master vampire for several months, and foolishly 
allowed 
> her to travel with myself and Martha. Bartlett was a high 
ranking 
> member of this vampire's group."
> 
> "Renato?" Meg asked. "Is that the master vampire's name?"
> 
> Giselle nodded. "He's one of the oldest vampires left in the 
world," 
> she explained. "There are a few others, but none so highly 
> ambitious. His favorite thing to do is settle in a small town or 
> village and see how quickly he is able to destroy every living 
> creature living there. I think his record is twelve hours, though 
> normally he enjoys drawing it out over several days or weeks."
> 
> Meg swallowed heavily. "He is coming to Silver Springs?" she 
asked.
> 
> "No," Giselle said. "He despises the New World. The people 
here are 
> far too unsophisticated for his palate. No, Bartlett has struck 
out 
> on his own, and I have come to follow."
> 
> "Why didn't you kill him tonight?"
> 
> Giselle sighed. "He reminded me that I have other 
responsibilities. 
> My calling is to protect and defend. Vengeance is not a part of 
the 
> Slayer's sacred duties."
> 
> "Slayer..." Meg whispered. She winced when Giselle pressed 
a damp 
> rag against her forehead.
> 
> "One girl in all the world," Giselle said. "Called to fight evil, 
> and given the strength to do so."
> 
> "But you're so...small," Meg said.
> 
> Giselle smiled. "Looks can be deceiving," she countered.
> 
> "Is Miss Reginald a Slayer, too?"
> 
> Giselle shook her head. "There is only one Slayer at a time," 
she 
> explained. "Martha is my Watcher. She belongs to a group of 
people 
> who train, observe, and gather information for the cause. 
They've 
> been around for centuries."
> 
> "That must be why she's so unpleasant," Meg guessed. 
"Forced to 
> stand off to one side and only watch as you fight all the 
battles."
> 
> "Martha is British, so that temperament is part of her nature," 
> Giselle said by way of explanation. When Meg laughed 
appropriately, 
> she continued, "But she has been rather short-tempered lately. 
I 
> think Victoria's death weighs heavily on both of us."
> 
> Giselle continued to clean out the wound on Meg's forehead, 
every so 
> often pausing and turning toward the washbasin to rinse blood 
out of 
> the rag. She reached up and smoothed back the hair that had 
fallen 
> into Meg's face. Her gentle fingers found the knot rising up 
along 
> Meg's cheekbone.
> 
> "Bartlett didn't do this," she said.
> 
> Meg was astonished. "How did you--?" she asked.
> 
> Giselle shrugged. "I guessed," she responded. "Your 
husband is a 
> horrible man."
> 
> As the matter of fact tone of the Frenchwoman's voice, Meg 
broke down 
> in tears. Horrified by her emotional outburst, Meg waved her 
hands 
> weakly and sputtered, "I'm sorry."
> 
> Leaning over to place the washbasin on the floor beside the 
bed, 
> Giselle then sat upright again and slid an arm across Meg's 
> shoulders. When she began to protest, the blonde woman 
whispered 
> softly in French. Gently pressing Meg's head against her 
shoulder, 
> she continued to croon unintelligibly as the other woman finally 
> allowed herself to be folded into the embrace.
> 
> "You deserve so much better than this," Giselle said, reverting 
back 
> to English. "A sharp mind like yours-it's a wonder you haven't 
been 
> driven mad all alone up here."
> 
> "I have Libby," Meg whispered. "I'd be lost without her."
> 
> "She is your relation...or Paul's?"
> 
> "Neither," Meg responded. "Her husband was killed last 
summer. When 
> she was a child, her entire family died of scarlet fever. She 
only 
> just survived, but she hasn't been the same since. She isn't 
capable 
> of caring for herself."
> 
> "You are so strong," Giselle murmured against her hair. The 
> sensation of her breath against Meg's scalp sent shivers down 
her 
> spine. "Why won't you believe that yourself?"
> 
> Uncomfortable, Meg pulled out of the embrace. Her hand 
remained 
> tucked into Giselle's lap, and she stared down at it in 
confusion. 
> She'd been so comfortable with the intimate position she 
hadn't even 
> realized how inappropriate their contact had become. When 
she 
> glanced up again, she met Giselle's kindly gaze. The 
Frenchwoman 
> smiled and leaned closer.
> 
> When she first felt the brush of Giselle's soft lips against the 
> corner of her mouth, Meg was too surprised by the sensation 
to 
> react. The woman smelled of soap and powder-so much 
cleaner than 
> Paul, whose heavily whiskered mouth tasted of sour tobacco 
and gin. 
> In that instant, she felt no hesitancy or doubt. For the first time 
> in her young life, her connection to another person felt right.
> 
> Pulling away slightly, Giselle took her silent acquiescence as 
> permission to go further. She kissed Meg fully then. Meg 
allowed it 
> for a few moments, curious at the novelty. Giselle didn't kiss 
like 
> Paul, who was fierce and commanding when he did deign to 
bring 
> attention to Meg's mouth. But where Paul's touch elicited 
nothing 
> but loathing, Meg felt herself begin to respond as Giselle's 
kiss 
> continued. 
> 
> When she felt Giselle's tongue trace the line of her lips before 
> bolding pressing against her own, Meg jerked away with a 
> gasp. "Don't!" she demanded, quaking. "That is not...that's not 
> proper."
> 
> Meg jumped to her feet and crossed halfway to the door before 
> pausing. She didn't turn to face the woman sitting behind her, 
but 
> for some reason she couldn't quite bring herself to stalk out of 
the 
> room just yet.
> 
> "I'm sorry," Giselle apologized. "I shouldn't have taken such 
> liberties."
> 
> "Victoria was your lover?" Meg asked. The question was bold 
and 
> entirely improper, but considering what they'd just shared she 
> figured she had the right to ask.
> 
> "Yes," Giselle whispered, her voice pained.
> 
> "When was she...?"
> 
> "Just over a year ago."
> 
> Meg closed her eyes. "And why me?"
> 
> She opened her eyes when the Frenchwoman chuckled. 
"There is fire 
> between us. Do you not feel it?"
> 
> Frowning, Meg turned to face her. "You speak and act like a 
man," 
> she said. "Everything is passion and ambition with you."
> 
> Giselle shrugged nonchalantly. "I am French," she explained. 
"As a 
> people we are in love with love."
> 
> "In love with the idea of what you might possess," Meg spat. 
"But 
> once you have it, then what will you think of it?"
> 
> Giselle frowned. "I am not your husband, Meg," she rebuked. 
"When I 
> pursue someone, it is not because I desire to own her or to 
destroy 
> her."
> 
> "Then why?"
> 
> "Because I want her," Giselle explained simply. Her 
forthrightness 
> astonished Meg yet again.
> 
> "I am a married woman," Meg said, jutting her chin out 
> defiantly. "And you will be as well. If there actually is a man 
> waiting for you in Birming."
> 
> "You've realized by now that there is not," Giselle told her. "I do 
> not need a husband. I am wed with Destiny."
> 
> Her accompanying laugh sounded bitter to Meg's ears. She 
realized 
> with a jolt that with all of her finery and worldliness, Giselle 
was 
> lonely. For a moment Meg wanted to go back to her, to comfort 
her. 
> But that would only cause both of them more pain. When 
Giselle left 
> Silver Springs, it would be without her. If Meg allowed herself 
to 
> feel any closer to this spirited creature, she would be crushed 
when 
> they were forced to separate.
> 
> "We cannot be alone together again," Meg said. Giselle 
seemed so 
> disappointed she knew she'd taken the proper course. 
"Please 
> understand. Neither of us is in a position to make any 
promises to 
> one another. There is little point in taking this further."
> 
> To her surprise, Giselle nodded. "I will do as you ask," she 
> promised.
> 
> "Good. Now I have to get changed before I start preparing 
supper. 
> If you would like a bath this evening, please consult Libby."
> 
> "I will let Libby get her rest," Giselle countered. "But I shall 
> join the rest of you for supper."
> 
> Meg shook her head at the gleam in the woman's eyes. 
"Exactly like a 
> man," she muttered to herself before turning and hurrying out 
of the 
> room.
> 
> To be continued...