8/12/08

whattingawhat: (I am the law)
[Arrangement]

She watches from a rooftop, never close enough to be noticed but never so far away that she can’t get to him if she needs to. She perches on the edge, crouched on her toes like some golden gargoyle protecting the scene below. Patience is something she’s not very good at but it’s also a skill she’s acquired through the years. She paces the rooftop a bit, changing positions but always keeping her eyes on what’s happening beneath her. A body wrapped in black leaves, people go in, patrol cars seem to move on rotation and finally she sees Danny walk out carrying his kit.

She runs, leaping between buildings, landing in a crouch and pushing away as she keeps up with the car. Once he’s safe inside the police station she starts patrol, taking special care to listen to what the vampires are saying. He’s not back, not yet and maybe not ever. Maybe it’s just a product of an overactive imagination, maybe it’s because she has so much to lose right now but her dreams have driven both her and Danny to this silent arrangement. He keeps her updated via a text message, survival instincts cautioning him to go along with the pattern they’ve fallen into. She meets him outside the building under the guise of getting a coffee and walking home together. Neither one of them like to explore the real reasons behind the stalking Buffy’s been doing lately. In the daytime, he’s smart. He can take care of himself. It’s the night that poses such a threat.

She gets a text from him, telling her he’s headed home and she finishes off the vampire she’s been playing with for a while now. By the time he emerges from the building, she’s leaning against a light pole waiting for him. Exhaustion is etched on his face, sometimes permanently she thinks, and he’s too tired to play the game.

“How long this gonna to go on, Sunshine?”

Buffy shrugs a little, her eyes fixed on the sidewalk in front of them. “I don’t know.” She looks up at him, a half hearted smile making its way across her lips. “Until I stop dreaming about your blood.”
whattingawhat: (she's a fighter)
["Honestly, I think the world's going to end bloody. But it doesn't mean we shouldn't fight. We do have choices. I choose to go down swingin'." - Dean Winchester Supernatural ]

The girl across from her is scribbling furiously while Buffy leans back and sips at her coffee. She’s trying not to talk faster than the girl can write.

“You know they have those new fangled things called tape recorders,” Buffy says as the girl looks up. “You’re going to get a cramp.”

The girl ducks her head with a grin and shrugs. “I write a lot. I’m used to it. Besides, they like handwritten notes at the Council.”

“Blow them up, start with all new, younger guys and they still manage to make it archaic,” Buffy sighs as she takes a sip of her latte. “Okay, so what else do you want to know?” The watcher council is compiling information so that they can make an assessment of the slayer army and the state of evil as a whole.

“Mmmm, I think that’s it,” the girl says looking over her notes. She sets her notebook on the table and picks up her coffee. There’s a question in her eyes that takes a moment for her to give voice to. “I’d like to know something though. Off the record.”

“Shoot,” Buffy says with a glance to her cell phone to check time. She’s got a class starting in an hour.

“You and Willow made all the slayers to save the world. Do you think you did it? I mean…one of these days do you think it will really be saved?”

Buffy thinks about that a moment, sipping at her coffee. Finally she sets it down and sighs. “Honestly? I think the world is going to end bloody. I think all our efforts are eventually going to be pointless. I think we all die but that doesn’t mean that we can’t make a choice, choose a side and go down fighting. Maybe I’m wrong and if I am, I don’t want to be the one that didn’t fight.”

Because in the end, that’s all she’s got; the knowledge that no matter how it turned out, she fought.

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Buffy Summers

August 2019

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