Post by buffysummers on Feb 26, 2012 19:28:08 GMT -4
This was L.A. This wasn't Sunnydale. It seemed the logical place to settle down but she lived her nights in fear of meeting Angel sometime along the way and having to face him again. Her days were spent looking for a job to support Dawn through college (across the US from here, thank you) and her nights were spent in patrol. It was long, tiring, and she was just ready to move on by now.
Buffy wasn't interested in a long, drawn out, complicated night. She was interested in dusting a few newbie vampires and then going home to sleep. Maybe she'd go back to college sometime or find a nice office job. Anything was better than the Doublemeat Palace and the persistent smell of burgers and french fries no matter how much you washed your hair or how long you stayed in the shower. That was one good thing about Sunnydale disappearing into a crater in the middle of the desert. The bad thing about it was that her mother's grave, and her body, was gone forever. She only had her memories now.
She first spotted platinum hair a good distance away from her sometime around midnight and shook it off as being her imagination. She ducked behind a mausoleum to check inside and when she came out she didn't see the hair again. She moved on and found a new vampire rising. It barely got halfway out of the ground before she staked the thing and called her challenge done. Then that familiar flick, closeby, and as she spun she caught sight of platinum hair again through a gardened patch of trees. The leather coat cinched it and in her surprise she dropped her stake.
"My God." she breathed. "Spike?"
She raced toward him, unable to think of anything but finding out if it really was him and if she was seeing things. She moved through the trees like a nymph, hardly stopping or slowing her pace despite the density. When she broke through she was close enough to see him clearly and smell the smoke from his cigarette. She paused, shocked into stillness and unable to speak. More than that she felt him now, keenly. He had a specific imprint to her, like Angel, and unlike any other vampire on Earth. She simply stared, wondering when he'd turn around to face her, their last words together lingering in her mind.
"I love you."
"No you don't. But thanks for saying it."
True and untrue. Complicated and simple. She'd mourned him in the weeks, months after the fall. She felt angry and betrayed by his return. How long had he been here, alive? Had he even died at all or did he just not want to be found? Anger welled up inside of her thinking he'd owed her an explanation or a call, something to say "oh, hey, by the way I'm bloody alive!"
Buffy wasn't interested in a long, drawn out, complicated night. She was interested in dusting a few newbie vampires and then going home to sleep. Maybe she'd go back to college sometime or find a nice office job. Anything was better than the Doublemeat Palace and the persistent smell of burgers and french fries no matter how much you washed your hair or how long you stayed in the shower. That was one good thing about Sunnydale disappearing into a crater in the middle of the desert. The bad thing about it was that her mother's grave, and her body, was gone forever. She only had her memories now.
She first spotted platinum hair a good distance away from her sometime around midnight and shook it off as being her imagination. She ducked behind a mausoleum to check inside and when she came out she didn't see the hair again. She moved on and found a new vampire rising. It barely got halfway out of the ground before she staked the thing and called her challenge done. Then that familiar flick, closeby, and as she spun she caught sight of platinum hair again through a gardened patch of trees. The leather coat cinched it and in her surprise she dropped her stake.
"My God." she breathed. "Spike?"
She raced toward him, unable to think of anything but finding out if it really was him and if she was seeing things. She moved through the trees like a nymph, hardly stopping or slowing her pace despite the density. When she broke through she was close enough to see him clearly and smell the smoke from his cigarette. She paused, shocked into stillness and unable to speak. More than that she felt him now, keenly. He had a specific imprint to her, like Angel, and unlike any other vampire on Earth. She simply stared, wondering when he'd turn around to face her, their last words together lingering in her mind.
"I love you."
"No you don't. But thanks for saying it."
True and untrue. Complicated and simple. She'd mourned him in the weeks, months after the fall. She felt angry and betrayed by his return. How long had he been here, alive? Had he even died at all or did he just not want to be found? Anger welled up inside of her thinking he'd owed her an explanation or a call, something to say "oh, hey, by the way I'm bloody alive!"