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Christina Rosado's FanFics --((More to come soon))--

'All The Things She Said' about... t.H.e. t.A.T.u. R.e.B.e.l.L.i.o.N. --((TATUchick's website))--

Christina Rosado's FanFics --((More to come soon))--

REFLECTIONS by Christina Rosado and Amanda Suarez

NOTE: I do not own the Scooby Gang . . . but the great Joss Whedon does! So don't sue me!! Enjoy!

NOTE 2: Since there are two writers in this FanFic, they will be color coded. White for Christina. And Blue for Amanda.


Chapter One: Alone

"Hey! Watch it!" A tall, buff boy whined, as Dawn mindlessly bumped into him as she hurried to the girl's bathroom. The boy chuckled, "Or you're gonna get a spanking!" He and his buddies, who were just as tall and buff, giggled. "You're too funny, Josh!" The boy to his left chimed as he slapped Josh's back. All the guys laughed. And as Dawn entered the bathroom, she heard Josh say, "I know, I know" and muffled laughter behind the closed bathroom door.

Once inside, she strode to the mirror above the sink and stared at her reflection. She was confronted with a teary, red and puffy Dawnie face. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she sniffled, wiping the back of her hand under her nose. She turned the knob of the faucet, and washed her hands, then splashed the icy water unto her face. Grinding out the tears, she looked up again at her reflection and sighed.


Clink! The sound of his third Budweiser bottle echoed in Xander's head as he depressingly plumped onto the couch. He was in need, in desperate need of his true love, Anya. He missed her a great deal. The phone rang. "Merciful Zeus, who would be calling me this early?" he complained. It was 9:36am to be exact. He rushed to answer the phone. One more ring was all he needed for his head to explode.

"Hello." The line was silent. "Hello?" Still no one seemed to answer. "Ahn, is that you?" Xander anxiously hoped that it would be her. Frantic was he, while he remained on the phone waiting a response. "Look, if this is you, please. I'm begging you, please answer me." "I'm sorry..." Xander, the phone pressed against his ear, listened to the disappointing dial tone. A tear rolled down his cheek when he realized that had to be Anya. He wanted her back home. He wanted everything to be the way that they were before the whole wedding incident. He wanted to forget the whole thing had ever happened. But could he? He loved her, yes, but could he actually forget how she slept with that soulless thing, that vampire named Spike? He didn't seem to care anymore. He just wanted her back home. With him.


The bright and cheery morning sunlight streamed through the open window unto a very somber and lonely redheaded girl, lying in bed. The covers were tangled around her perspired body. Willow trembled as she clutched a pillow to her chest. . . Tara's pillow. Her scent still lingered on the fabric. Willow would cry now. . . if she could, but the tears had been shed. The ducts were in drought season. It was another morning without her beautiful, innocent, shy, understanding, and oh, so perfect lover. Her Tara was gone. . . forever.

Willow glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It read 9:43am. She looked up at the calendar on the wall, pushing a moist strand of her red hair, matted to her forehead behind her ear, and saw it was May 17th. It was one week since Tara's funeral and one whole week and three days since her death. Willow turned over, still grasping Tara's pillow and sighed deeply, looking up at the ceiling. She bit her lower lip, pouted, her throat tightened as she felt her face contort into a sorrowful look. She remembered the day Tara died in her arms.


They had just finished making love minutes ago, and were finally dressed. Xander had come to make amends with Buffy, Tara noticed from the window. Willow had put away a document in the drawer in their room, when Tara walked over to Willow and pushed a stray lock of hair behind Willow's ear, smiling. Both girls looked into each other's eyes.

"You're so beautiful," the blond witch whispered.

Willow blushed and the two lovers kissed, but parted rather quickly when Tara chuckled, "Don't you think we should keep our clothes on being that we took the trouble to put them back on?"

The redhead smiled, "Aw, shucks. Party pooper." Tara giggled and walked over to the window as Willow combed her hair, then set the brush on the dresser, when she was done. Tara looked down and saw Buffy and Xander bend down to sit on the garden's bench. She turned when Willow called to her, "Tara? I'm. . . I. . . thanks for coming back." Willow stammered, "Thanks for not leaving me."

"I could never leave you, Willow. Even after this time we were apart, my body longed for your touch and my soul cried for yours, Will." Tara smiled.

"I was lost without you, Tara." Willow said softly.

"And I found you. I'll always find you Willow."

"Don't leave me." Willow pleads.

"I won't, Willow. I promise. I'd have to be put to death to leave you. I love you, Will." Tara reassured. With that, Willow smiled and was the happiest girl on earth.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang. and glass shattering. Warm, sticky blood splattered on Willow's neck and shirt. She inhaled the coppery scent of blood, saw Tara's confused face. Then heard the words fall from Tara's lips, "Your shirt."

Tara fell with a slump, and all Willow could do was call her name and implore for her to get up.

--((end of flashback))--

Willow, still lying in the bed, was looking up at the ceiling, tears streamed down her cheeks. She clutched Tara's pillow, and cried alone in her room.


Wide awake, Spike sat in his armchair, reminiscing on certain moments in the past. . . his past, with Buffy. Was it the past? Indeed it was. He loved her. He still did. "Why me?" He thought. "Ugh. . . I have to stop feeling this way . . . This blasted chip! Why can't I just be. . . ?" He stopped and realized that she was just a girl. Girls always come and go. "No!" he argued. "Not this one! She's something special and different and so. . . human. I can't. . . I won't. . . NO. . . I CAN'T FORGET about her.I just can't!" He stood up from his chair to get something to drink. He needed to cool down. He looked inside the refrigerator. "Bloody hell!" he sighs while noticing nothing inside. "I guess we both have something in common ol' pal."

He slams the door and looks down in shame. "Emptiness!"

More to come soon...

HEAVENLY DAMNED by Christina Rosado

NOTE:I do not own the Scooby Gang . . . but the great Joss Whedon does! So don't sue me!! Enjoy!

Chapter One: Heavenly Vampire

The young vampiress walked along 5th avenue of Brooklyn, New York, her long dark hair pulled back in a braid, her widow's peak stood out the more, and her incandescent gray eyes were locked on a male between the ages of 17 and 21. He strode with a certain confidence, his chest puffed out in an annoyingly arrogant manner, and his nose high in the air. She knew he wasn't from this part of town, in fact, she had a strong feeling he wasn't from this state. He was too sophisticated. From the likes of him, he probably owned an island in the pacific and had a mansion there . . . Lived like a king. He'd most likely inherited money from the death of his parents, or something.

What the hell. . . The vampiress knew it was true. No possibilities. She had that power. That knowledge. The man made a left at the corner of 1st street and 5th avenue and she followed, half a block away. She could take him now if she wanted, but Public School 321 was on this block. She didn't want the blood and gore be found by a mother and child in the wee hours of the nearing morning, right before school. She sighed, her eyes never tearing away from the male's back. He continued to walk on ahead, no turns at all, until they reached Prospect Park. She grinned; the park was her favorite hunting ground. No one could hear the screams that usually escaped her prey's lips, not this late at night.

She looked at her wristwatch, the first time she broke her stare from her prey, to decipher the time. Her watch read: 1:15am. She looked up, her vampiric fangs bared and she let out a low, and deep growl from her throat. She stopped. The man had disappeared! She narrowed her eyes, now knowing what she was following; she understood why the male wore such expensive clothing. She knew, now, why he walked with that certain confidence and arrogance. He was like her. No. . . Not like her, but like her predecessors. She knew he wasn't human, now that it was too late. The vampire girl looked around nonchalantly, her piercing gray eyes scanned the area. She clenched her teeth in frustration. Her jaw muscles tightened with annoyance. She wasn't in the mood to play games.

The summer wind picked up, and she was grateful for the refreshing air, but unfortunately, it blew her hair across her face. She raised her hand to rid the hair from her face, but someone grabbed her arm before it even reached her hair. She reacted with a menacing growl, unmoved by the situation. Her other arm was seized at the wrist and held in front of her. Both wrists were then held together by one large right hand, and then, the man removes the mass of hair from her face with the other. The wind still blew furiously around them. He smiles a fangy grin, his eyes as gray as hers, but not as lustrous, or as sagacious. She inhaled the deep musk of the male vampire. She knew he was hungry, as hungry as she. She looked at him, and pulled the "little frightened girl" act. She squirmed, tried to wiggle out of his hold, and whimpered, but the man only slapped her, "STAY STILL!" He ordered in a deep throaty voice.

Chapter Two: Damned Vampire

It was well after midnight, around one a.m., and she wandered the dark streets of Sunnydale, California, with nowhere to go. She remained hidden in the shadows, quietly walking towards the local cemetery. She had to visit the grave one last time. Once she arrived at the gravesite, she kneeled before it, and traced her slender fingers over the engraved name of Buffy Anne Summers. “Oh, Buffy,” the girl whispered, and hung her head low, her red hair covered her face.

It’s been two years exactly this day since the Slayer’s death.

One year and ten months since Willow was turned into a vampire.

One year and nine and a half months since Giles committed suicide.

And one year and eight months since Xander and Anya had moved to L.A.

Xander and Anya had not known Willow was still alive… or rather undead. But to leave Dawnie all alone in the Summers’s home! How selfish they were! Of course, Dawn was already 21… Tara’s age when she… when she…

It’s been five years since Tara Maclay’s… "departure" into heaven.

Willow sighed heavily and stood. She was partly glad Tara wasn’t alive to see Willow in this state, in this form: A vampire, one of the undead. But praise be to the Goddess that Willow was a Wiccan, for she wouldn’t have had her soul even though she was undead. Willow couldn’t believe how drastic everything has changed after Buffy’s death. She couldn’t believe Buffy was dead!

“I miss you, Buffy. I wish you were alive. I wish…" Willow sighed heavily, as a tear rolled down her cheek, "Goddess! Life’s been so hard without you around. For me, Dawn… and… Sunnydale needs her slayer to fight the…” Willow stopped, she sensed a human nearby, walking towards her from behind. She knew by the sound of the footfalls that the person was trying to be quiet and stealthy. The person's scent overwhelmed her, and she knew it was a female… Willow wondered who this person was. So she decided to wait for them, and acted like she hadn’t noticed their presence. She continued with her words, as her face contorted into that of a furless bat’s face. Her brow thickened and her eyes turned an eerie yellow. Her fangs sharpened and grew; “…demons, and the vampires. Oh Buffy…”

Suddenly, the person pounced on Willow…

More to come soon...

A note from Christina: