Shadows
folder
AtS/BtVS Crossovers › FemmeSlash - Female/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,720
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
AtS/BtVS Crossovers › FemmeSlash - Female/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,720
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Shadows
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with this, what ever is in here I do not own, (excluding the Theory of Expectability, that is soo mine). I take no credit for is not mine, for these are all Joss Whedon. All hail. To sum everything up: What is mine is mine, what is not is not.
Author’s Notes: I have been toying with this idea for quite some time, and I finally decided to write it. Anything can happen, I tell you that much. The pairings I am going for are Fred/Willow, and Tara/Buffy. Since those are my favorite pairings. Fred is a witch in this, which I thought she should always have been. She would be the perfect blend of science and magick.
Feedback: Yes, please! I beseech thee! It is much appreciated, though those who flame will be banished to Pylea, not joking. Those that are nice, however, will get muchas cookies and be forever my friend.
On with the tale….
Shadows
The Alternate Tales of Three Witches
Prelude
May 7, 1996
Winnifred Burkle groaned inwardly again. Cataloguing, for the fourth time that week. Her appearance suggested a bubbly, smiley, and perky persona, but that was just a front nowadays. Monotony was her take on life now, seems that everything that has happened will happen again in a completely uninteresting and predictable way. She laughed bitterly at the thought, she could release a thesis on that, the Theory of Expectability. How very Murphy of her. She came out of her inner monologue as she saw a slender blonde standing behind the counter.
Her thin lips curved into a smile and she waved a shy, slender hand at her friend, Becca, as she drudged along with the ridiculously heavy book cart into the foreign language section. The metal wheels squeaking obnoxiously over the hardwood floor as it jerkily slid towards it’s destination. The jagged edges of the wheels long since dug grooves and rivets in the floor.
Her gold-plated, apple shaped locket jingled against her green pentagram hanging around her neck and hitting against her bare skin of her upper chest. She began shelving the returned books, picking books up off the cart and placing them in their respective spots. The routine being just that, a routine, a mindless action that repeated itself in a very droning fashion. That giving her Theory more credibility, since she herself lived it.
Fred picked up a leather-bound book labeled François and placed it on the quite dusty shelf. “Goddess…I wish something interesting would happen to me for once. Theory of Expectability…proven again…”
Now, one thing every witch in L.A., or S.F. learns is careful what you wish for. Fred learned this the hard way that day.
An ancient bound book caught her attention. Her nimble fingers curved around the leather corner and opened it. Creaking and a slight cracking sound emitted from the aged She arched an eyebrow up when she saw the text, almost unreadable. “Scrsqwrn…krv drpglr pwlz…chkwrt strplmt dwghzn…prglrzn lffrmtplzt…?” she paused, her face scrunched up in confusion. “Um…what the he—“
A large flash of iridescent light cut her off, then a rumble that shook the whole room. Fred grabbed onto the cart, afraid, she knew she really messed up, in a magickal sense. A ball of pulsing, blue fire materialized in the center of the room. It grew in size and became a large portal, lightning sporadically bursting inside the vortex.
A large suction formed and lifted Fred’s legs up, pulling her towards the vortex. She grabbed tighter to the book cart, but since it had wheels, it rolled. She let go and went into the portal, which promptly closed behind her. The cart tipped radically and fell over, spilling the books and clashing loudly into the floor, letting assorted papers flutter to the ground in the eerie silence that followed.
Author’s Notes: I have been toying with this idea for quite some time, and I finally decided to write it. Anything can happen, I tell you that much. The pairings I am going for are Fred/Willow, and Tara/Buffy. Since those are my favorite pairings. Fred is a witch in this, which I thought she should always have been. She would be the perfect blend of science and magick.
Feedback: Yes, please! I beseech thee! It is much appreciated, though those who flame will be banished to Pylea, not joking. Those that are nice, however, will get muchas cookies and be forever my friend.
On with the tale….
Shadows
The Alternate Tales of Three Witches
Prelude
May 7, 1996
Winnifred Burkle groaned inwardly again. Cataloguing, for the fourth time that week. Her appearance suggested a bubbly, smiley, and perky persona, but that was just a front nowadays. Monotony was her take on life now, seems that everything that has happened will happen again in a completely uninteresting and predictable way. She laughed bitterly at the thought, she could release a thesis on that, the Theory of Expectability. How very Murphy of her. She came out of her inner monologue as she saw a slender blonde standing behind the counter.
Her thin lips curved into a smile and she waved a shy, slender hand at her friend, Becca, as she drudged along with the ridiculously heavy book cart into the foreign language section. The metal wheels squeaking obnoxiously over the hardwood floor as it jerkily slid towards it’s destination. The jagged edges of the wheels long since dug grooves and rivets in the floor.
Her gold-plated, apple shaped locket jingled against her green pentagram hanging around her neck and hitting against her bare skin of her upper chest. She began shelving the returned books, picking books up off the cart and placing them in their respective spots. The routine being just that, a routine, a mindless action that repeated itself in a very droning fashion. That giving her Theory more credibility, since she herself lived it.
Fred picked up a leather-bound book labeled François and placed it on the quite dusty shelf. “Goddess…I wish something interesting would happen to me for once. Theory of Expectability…proven again…”
Now, one thing every witch in L.A., or S.F. learns is careful what you wish for. Fred learned this the hard way that day.
An ancient bound book caught her attention. Her nimble fingers curved around the leather corner and opened it. Creaking and a slight cracking sound emitted from the aged She arched an eyebrow up when she saw the text, almost unreadable. “Scrsqwrn…krv drpglr pwlz…chkwrt strplmt dwghzn…prglrzn lffrmtplzt…?” she paused, her face scrunched up in confusion. “Um…what the he—“
A large flash of iridescent light cut her off, then a rumble that shook the whole room. Fred grabbed onto the cart, afraid, she knew she really messed up, in a magickal sense. A ball of pulsing, blue fire materialized in the center of the room. It grew in size and became a large portal, lightning sporadically bursting inside the vortex.
A large suction formed and lifted Fred’s legs up, pulling her towards the vortex. She grabbed tighter to the book cart, but since it had wheels, it rolled. She let go and went into the portal, which promptly closed behind her. The cart tipped radically and fell over, spilling the books and clashing loudly into the floor, letting assorted papers flutter to the ground in the eerie silence that followed.