Scottish Ficathon
Well. A month late and a dollar short, but here we go. The prologue for my Scottish Ficathon story--I have come to the conclusion, and you will too, that I am not a particularly good author. But I plow forward anyway!! Enjoy!
Title: Kilts & Killing Time - Prologue (.5/5)
Pairing: Oz/Xander
Rating: Adult
Summary: Past lives, warring clans in Scotland, forbidden kilt love, etc etc.
Warnings: Well, there might be char death of a sort. But not the kind you need to avoid the story for. Trust me here.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. Any of them.
ladycat777 was kind enough to read this over for me before I posted. All errors will be mine.
Oz stopped to consider. This was at least the third time in two weeks he’d flashed to seeing Xander in a kilt, instead of Xander in sloppy jeans and a loud shirt, walking along the 2nd floor hallway. To say nothing of the dreams. Full of men, angry men, and blood red tartan, they were definitely more than just a subconscious creation, and the mess they were making in his head kept getting more...messy.
As much as it pained him, he was going to have to talk to Giles. In private. In fact, now would be a good time because everyone had class this period, so his feet suddenly steered him away from Shakespeare, and down the steps to where there might be answers.
As usual, the library was empty.
"Giles?"
There was a rustle from the office and Giles emerged, a look of surprise coming over his face when he saw who was there.
"Oz. What can I do for you?"
"Been having dreams," replied Oz.
He could actually see Giles putting on his imaginary Watcher hat. "Ah. Very well. What kind of dreams?"
They both sat down at the table. "This is between us for now," Oz prefaced.
"Unless Buffy needs to be involved I see no reason I cannot keep what we say private."
"Thanks." He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his backpack. "Dreams about Xander, except he’s not Xander."
"That has been known to happen," said Giles with a rueful smile.
Oz rolled his eyes. "Not like that. Xander is Alex. And I’m Duncan. And we’re...friends. Close friends, but our clans are warring and..."
"You’re who and what?" Giles interrupted, suddenly looking a bit more serious.
"My full name is Duncan Osborne Morrison. Xander’s is Roderick Alexander MacLeod. I haven’t figured out too many details yet except we belong to different clans, we talk in Scottish accents, wear kilts, and apparently there’s a war on." He sat back and waited.
After a long pause, Giles responded. "I assume by sheer virtue of the fact that you are speaking to me about this, you feel there is some kind of significance beyond the average dream."
"I wake up exhausted, occasionally injured." Oz rolled up his sleeve and showed the long scar on his forearm. "Werewolf healing, so nothing lasts, but believe me when I say that medieval medicine is painful and ineffective."
Giles winced. "So these dreams are something of an alternate reality, perhaps." He got up and started walking briskly towards the stacks. "Would you say you retain an awareness of being Oz during these dreams, or do you only return to your current self once you awaken?"
"It’s like...I’m still Oz but I’m also Duncan. As though I’m two people at once," Oz said loudly so his voice would carry. He could hear Giles muttering to himself and the sounds of books opening and closing. Finally he re-emerged, sneezing and clutching a sheaf of papers..
"Good lord it’s dusty back there," he said, setting the papers down gently and grimacing at the dirt that wafted into the air.
"Find something?" asked Oz.
"Well on the surface it would seem you are having some kind of past life experience. However the merging of your persons during these dreams, and the fact that you are retaining physical manifestations when you awake, are of concern. To say nothing of the presence of Xander."
"The presence of me where?" said a familiar voice from the doorway.
Shit. "Xander. Hey. Shouldn’t you be in class now?" Oz said, trying to be friendly but feeling the urge to bolt.
"I could ask the same of you...English, right?" Xander shot back, throwing his books on the table and straddling a chair backwards. "What brings you to the library, and more importantly, why are you talking about me?"
Giles glanced at Oz, and Oz shrugged. Oh well. Never was one for keeping secrets, and Xander was here now. He might as well be part of the research, although Oz didn’t think it was going particularly well so far. More like stating the obvious.
"It appears Oz is having past life experiences while dreaming, and you are there."
Xander looked stunned. "I’m what?"
"In Oz’s dreams," Giles said patiently, and gestured at Oz to clarify.
"Not much to add really." Although that was a blatant lie, he wasn’t about to tell either one of them about the sex. Oh no, definitely not.
"Am I anything...weird in these dreams? Like, a bug?" Xander asked, making a face.
"No, just Scottish," Oz said.
"Scottish, huh? That doesn’t sound too bad. Do I wear one of those skirts?"
"Actually, yes," Giles chimed in, "Oz specifically mentioned kilts. Although kilts are still worn today, they are usually brought out for ceremonial purposes rather than daily use. It seems more likely that these dreams are occurring in the past, especially given the names." He pulled a piece of paper out from the pile in front of him and starting reading. "Yes yes, in the late 16th century, two clans bearing the last names you mentioned were in conflict, Oz."
"Enough with the history lesson, Giles. How do I stop being in Oz’s dreams?"
Giles looked up, startled. "Well, I don’t think you can, really."
"A little spells, some stinky stuff waved around, there must be something. I mean, it’s not like Oz wants me there. Right?" Xander looked at Oz who shrugged again.
"Just want to know what’s going on," he said. "Plus I’d like to stop waking up bleeding."
"Bleeding? First mention of blood here, people. No-one said anything about blood. Oh god, am I a Scottish vampire?" Xander’s eyes were really big and Oz wanted to laugh.
He was saved by Giles, who said "I believe Oz did mention a war, and there is often blood shed in war, Xander."
"Right. Okay. Not upset about any of this, nope. Just the usual hellmouth fun, which you will figure out and I will...I will..." Xander stopped and then continued. "You’ll let me know if I need to do something, right?"
"Do something about what?" said Willow as she walked in to the room, slayer in tow, and Oz slunk down in his chair. So much for getting help from Giles without everyone else knowing. He watched Buffy and Willow settle down, and let the words wash over him as Giles starting waving papers around and explaining everything again, with the requisite interruptions.
He was so tired from all the dreaming, and Oz could feel himself drifting off in the warmth of the library, listening to the murmuring voices around the table. He tried to fight it, but it wasn't long before sleep claimed him.
on to part 1
Title: Kilts & Killing Time - Prologue (.5/5)
Pairing: Oz/Xander
Rating: Adult
Summary: Past lives, warring clans in Scotland, forbidden kilt love, etc etc.
Warnings: Well, there might be char death of a sort. But not the kind you need to avoid the story for. Trust me here.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. Any of them.
ladycat777 was kind enough to read this over for me before I posted. All errors will be mine.
Oz stopped to consider. This was at least the third time in two weeks he’d flashed to seeing Xander in a kilt, instead of Xander in sloppy jeans and a loud shirt, walking along the 2nd floor hallway. To say nothing of the dreams. Full of men, angry men, and blood red tartan, they were definitely more than just a subconscious creation, and the mess they were making in his head kept getting more...messy.
As much as it pained him, he was going to have to talk to Giles. In private. In fact, now would be a good time because everyone had class this period, so his feet suddenly steered him away from Shakespeare, and down the steps to where there might be answers.
As usual, the library was empty.
"Giles?"
There was a rustle from the office and Giles emerged, a look of surprise coming over his face when he saw who was there.
"Oz. What can I do for you?"
"Been having dreams," replied Oz.
He could actually see Giles putting on his imaginary Watcher hat. "Ah. Very well. What kind of dreams?"
They both sat down at the table. "This is between us for now," Oz prefaced.
"Unless Buffy needs to be involved I see no reason I cannot keep what we say private."
"Thanks." He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his backpack. "Dreams about Xander, except he’s not Xander."
"That has been known to happen," said Giles with a rueful smile.
Oz rolled his eyes. "Not like that. Xander is Alex. And I’m Duncan. And we’re...friends. Close friends, but our clans are warring and..."
"You’re who and what?" Giles interrupted, suddenly looking a bit more serious.
"My full name is Duncan Osborne Morrison. Xander’s is Roderick Alexander MacLeod. I haven’t figured out too many details yet except we belong to different clans, we talk in Scottish accents, wear kilts, and apparently there’s a war on." He sat back and waited.
After a long pause, Giles responded. "I assume by sheer virtue of the fact that you are speaking to me about this, you feel there is some kind of significance beyond the average dream."
"I wake up exhausted, occasionally injured." Oz rolled up his sleeve and showed the long scar on his forearm. "Werewolf healing, so nothing lasts, but believe me when I say that medieval medicine is painful and ineffective."
Giles winced. "So these dreams are something of an alternate reality, perhaps." He got up and started walking briskly towards the stacks. "Would you say you retain an awareness of being Oz during these dreams, or do you only return to your current self once you awaken?"
"It’s like...I’m still Oz but I’m also Duncan. As though I’m two people at once," Oz said loudly so his voice would carry. He could hear Giles muttering to himself and the sounds of books opening and closing. Finally he re-emerged, sneezing and clutching a sheaf of papers..
"Good lord it’s dusty back there," he said, setting the papers down gently and grimacing at the dirt that wafted into the air.
"Find something?" asked Oz.
"Well on the surface it would seem you are having some kind of past life experience. However the merging of your persons during these dreams, and the fact that you are retaining physical manifestations when you awake, are of concern. To say nothing of the presence of Xander."
"The presence of me where?" said a familiar voice from the doorway.
Shit. "Xander. Hey. Shouldn’t you be in class now?" Oz said, trying to be friendly but feeling the urge to bolt.
"I could ask the same of you...English, right?" Xander shot back, throwing his books on the table and straddling a chair backwards. "What brings you to the library, and more importantly, why are you talking about me?"
Giles glanced at Oz, and Oz shrugged. Oh well. Never was one for keeping secrets, and Xander was here now. He might as well be part of the research, although Oz didn’t think it was going particularly well so far. More like stating the obvious.
"It appears Oz is having past life experiences while dreaming, and you are there."
Xander looked stunned. "I’m what?"
"In Oz’s dreams," Giles said patiently, and gestured at Oz to clarify.
"Not much to add really." Although that was a blatant lie, he wasn’t about to tell either one of them about the sex. Oh no, definitely not.
"Am I anything...weird in these dreams? Like, a bug?" Xander asked, making a face.
"No, just Scottish," Oz said.
"Scottish, huh? That doesn’t sound too bad. Do I wear one of those skirts?"
"Actually, yes," Giles chimed in, "Oz specifically mentioned kilts. Although kilts are still worn today, they are usually brought out for ceremonial purposes rather than daily use. It seems more likely that these dreams are occurring in the past, especially given the names." He pulled a piece of paper out from the pile in front of him and starting reading. "Yes yes, in the late 16th century, two clans bearing the last names you mentioned were in conflict, Oz."
"Enough with the history lesson, Giles. How do I stop being in Oz’s dreams?"
Giles looked up, startled. "Well, I don’t think you can, really."
"A little spells, some stinky stuff waved around, there must be something. I mean, it’s not like Oz wants me there. Right?" Xander looked at Oz who shrugged again.
"Just want to know what’s going on," he said. "Plus I’d like to stop waking up bleeding."
"Bleeding? First mention of blood here, people. No-one said anything about blood. Oh god, am I a Scottish vampire?" Xander’s eyes were really big and Oz wanted to laugh.
He was saved by Giles, who said "I believe Oz did mention a war, and there is often blood shed in war, Xander."
"Right. Okay. Not upset about any of this, nope. Just the usual hellmouth fun, which you will figure out and I will...I will..." Xander stopped and then continued. "You’ll let me know if I need to do something, right?"
"Do something about what?" said Willow as she walked in to the room, slayer in tow, and Oz slunk down in his chair. So much for getting help from Giles without everyone else knowing. He watched Buffy and Willow settle down, and let the words wash over him as Giles starting waving papers around and explaining everything again, with the requisite interruptions.
He was so tired from all the dreaming, and Oz could feel himself drifting off in the warmth of the library, listening to the murmuring voices around the table. He tried to fight it, but it wasn't long before sleep claimed him.
on to part 1