History books forgot about us [And the bible didn't mention us at all]

[Half of writing history is hiding the truth.]

“Okay, so red flags mean rip it out, no questions ask then burn it. Blue means it’s to your discretion but keep in mind that people are going to read these,” Buffy says as she gestures to a pile of journals, their pages winged with a variety of colored markers.

Willow looked up from one of the journals, watching Buffy. “Right. Red means out, blue means it’s a judgment page but what’s purple?”

Buffy smiles brilliantly at Willow. “Purple is a great page. Purple is a page that should stay marked and that should be like…put in some kind of compendium…is that what they call them? You know the…compliation! It should be put in some kind of compiliation. You know all the best days of a slayer’s life? Something you read like bedtime stories when you’re having a green day.”

“Ooooh green eyed monster day?” Willow asks, eyebrows arching.

Buffy shrugs, her attention on the journal she’s flagging. “Sometimes. In general just bad day.”

Willows nods, sober for a moment as she skims over one of the entries. “Prom. Oz. And pretty dresses. Only not Oz in pretty dresses because…you know. Oz in pretty tuxes.” She looks up at Buffy and bites her lip. “And also hellhounds…and Angel…missage?”

Buffy shakes her head. “Nah, it was a good night for the most part. The hellhounds were incidental. The Angel missage was on hold and I got a shiny new toy.”

“Your umbrella!” Willow exclaims, her face lighting up.

“Yup. It’s in the bedroom on the dresser,” Buffy nods curtly. “See good memories.” She reaches over and puts a purple flag on the page. “We’ll just change the part about Angel leaving and save that for Graduation.”

Willow’s eyes grew wide. “But that’s like…rewriting history.”

Buffy shrugs in response. “To quote Malcolm Reynolds, half of history is hiding the truth.”

Cause' we all have a darker side [A place we keep where no one else will find]

[Skeletons in the closet]

Honestly, I don’t think I have any skeletons left in my closet. They’ve gone all Lance Bass on me. That’s what happens when you raise an army of teenage girls. It’s like high school gossip on PCP. And I guess some of my skeletons are pretty scandalous. Okay, so I dated a vampire…or two. Can we please remember that I’ve also saved the world a dozen times? Let’s parade that skeleton in front of everyone instead of ones named Angel and Spike. Thanks so much. Or the fact that I can kick ass in a pair of five inch heels. That’s a good skeleton to have. Let’s keep the one where I was staked with my own stake firmly locked up. Or the fact that I let Dracula bite me? Or you know that I tasted his blood and it was gross. Let’s keep those all very in the closet. There are some skeletons I don’t mind talking about. Like I quit…twice…yeah twice and I threatened to quit one other time but the reason I don’t mind talking about it because I got back up which I guess technically makes it not a skeleton. Skeletons are things that no one knows that you lock up tight. My point is sorta that. Everyone knows most everything about me.

[Locked from Dawn, Willow and Danny]

Okay so here’s something no one knows. Sometimes I think maybe Mom’s brain tumor was Dawn’s fault. I don’t know how exactly except that it started showing up when Dawn did. I mean…maybe forcing those memories into Mom’s head caused it or maybe…maybe, I don’t know.

And I think Willow suspects this but I’ve never told her. Sometimes I wish she’d never brought me back. Sometimes I wish I was still dead, still in Heaven and still finished. It’s not all the time, it’s not every day and it’s getting better I think but sometimes I’m still alone and it still hurts. I want to be warm, safe and loved in a way that I don’t think is possible on earth. That sounds bad. I know that sounds so bad but it’s this—in Heaven I know I’m never going to have to go out into the cold again. I’m never going to be in danger again and I’m never, ever going to lose someone I love again. I can’t make those guarantees about this life. In fact, I can almost guarantee those things will happen. No matter how long I fight, there’s always going to be another fight. I’m never done.
[unlocked]

Skeletons suck and I’m through talking about them. Metaphorically anyway and literally they’re kind of ick.

Taken from lots of people

You Are a Chimera

You are very outgoing and well connected to many people. Incredibly devoted to your family and friends, you find purpose in nurturing others. You are rarely alone, and you do best in the company of others. You are incredibly expressive, and people are sometimes overwhelmed by your strong emotions.

What Mythological Creature Are You?

When they finally come to destroy the earth, they'll have to go through you first.

[My partner will always have to understand that I....]

My life isn’t my own. I will always be obligated to something bigger than me. There will always be 3AM phone calls, slayers that die and leave me in a funk for days. There will be trips across the country and battles that I have to go fight. There is always going to be patrol and training and an apocalypse often enough that you wonder when the next one is coming.

It’s easier now than it used to be. I’m not the only one and it takes some pressure off. Patrol can slide for a night and I can live where ever I want to. Before I was very much stuck in Sunnydale which you know is a problem to most people. Willow and Xander stayed with me but there was no way I could expect anyone else to. Sunnydale was tiny and did I mention on a Hellmouth? And you know it’s easy for someone to say ‘well you can quit now’. The thing is, I can’t. I mean I could but I can’t. I’m a slayer. It’s there under my skin and in my blood. Yeah I get tired of fighting all the time but not fighting is never an option either. When you heap the responsibility I’ve put on my shoulders along with that, it’s a lot. Girls all over the world are slayers because of a decision I made. I can’t tell a sixteen year old girl ‘Okay you go fight this war now. I know you didn’t choose this and no one asked you and your ‘normal’ life has gone to Hell but I’m done’. Again, I could but I have to be able to sleep at night, figuratively since I don’t sleep a lot literally. I was that sixteen year old girl that didn’t get a choice and was shoved out there all by myself. I refuse to do that to anyone else if I can help it. I can’t unmake them slayers but I can at least be a support system or a role model or whatever else you want to call what I am.

I guess to sum it all up, I come with a lot of baggage. Danny has to realize that and unfortunately if he wants me, he has to take all my baggage. So far, he seems to be doing pretty well with it. I’m just worried because he doesn’t know how deep my baggage goes just yet.ac

Let's talk about it [RP for stillacrime]

Buffy had gotten Danny's letter at work and now she was nervous about talking to him. She knew it was inevitable and it was something that needed to be done. In fact, there were things he needed to know but it didn't make it any easier to talk to him about it. She was sitting out on the balcony with a dozen candles tucked in corners. She had taken their comforter off the bed, piled the pillows outside as well. Everything was all ready for a balcony picnic. The only thing missing was Danny and takeout. She glanced at her cell phone, deciding she had time to change before he got there. She got up and slipped into a pair of yoga shorts and a wife beater, pulled her hair up in a messy bun at the back of her head and went back out onto the balcony to wait.