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A Story In Need of a Title - 1/1(??)
So I am bored at work and I wrote this thing and it is like - totally rough and I don't even know if it has a title yet and if I called it fanfic - maybe it is AtS/BtVS?? With spoilers through AtS 5x22 Not Fade Away...
Cut for kindness
It's not as if they didn't know some serious shit had gone down out in LA. They just didn't know *what* exactly had occurred and since open and honest lines of communication - and her and Angel - were a thing of some long ago, and possibly fictional past, she wasn't that concerned. Or she didn't allow herself to wonder about it. Much.
Life, her life, was busy. Dawn had school and this semester, so did she. And a kinda, sorta job that she went to every now and then and there was also her oh-so-fabulous and stimulating social life and let us never forget the slayer thing. Even as one of many, she was still pretty much Head Slayer. The one in charge. The one everyone looked to for the answers and her answer on this one particular thing is that Angel made his decision, and if he needs help he will ask for it. He's done it in the past, so why should this time be any different?
When Giles called and told her that the LA offices of that stupid-ass law firm had been swallowed up like a tiny snowglobe version of Sunnydale last year, she still told him to just wait. Then she went and danced until 4 am and then she patrolled until sunrise and while vamps may not like the holy city of Rome as a general rule, the few that do set up shop are not easy dispatches and a lot more saavy then those whose senses have been lulled by a constantly vibrating hellmouth. Patrols are generally fruitless, yet necessary, but this time she was extra dedicated and dusted two. And she was not concerned at all.
That morning brought her another phone call. Willow and her people had located Wesley's body in LA. Or the Watcher's Council had found him and Willow had spies there or Giles knew a guy who went to the same barber as...it all got terribly complicated and as she listened to her best friend drone on about how a man who was once her watcher, was found gutted, she wondered when she stopped knowing all of the important stuff that went on in Willow's life? Was it just a proximity thing - like unless she knew what shirt Willow was wearing that day or what kind of cereal she had for breakfast, it was impossible to keep a grasp on what was going on with her?
Willow also wanted to tell her about something involving dimensional tears and unbalancing of power and a whole host of evil raining down half a globe away and Buffy cut her off with a quick "end of the world?" query and once it was established that this thing would pretty much fix itself, well then - that answered that.
Buffy then spent the rest of the day wondering what kind of cereal Willow was eating now and annoyed that Andrew had eaten all of the granola and not replaced it.
Time kept moving and the end of the world didn't come, at least not this week. She ate and slept (some) and still went out and still laughed and went shopping with Dawn and teased Andrew and went to lunch with the new guy at work and he was really nice and shy and that could be a turn-on, she was discovering. Most importantly, she did not think at all about Los Angeles and cooperatively, Los Angeles was quiet and not demanding of her and hell, no news is *always* good news, since actual news is usually just crap.
To say she was not prepared when the skinny kid showed up and asked if she was Buffy, and clarified he meant the Buffy that was the slayer, and then gave her a letter and told her it was from Angel and then looked pretty miserable about being in her apartment, well, not prepared would have been a fair description.
She thought the kid was a friend of Dawn's from school. That his nervousness was about meeting the Big Sister or something when she first opened the door. Even now, holding that letter in her hand and the kid kinda hyperactively bouncing on her sofa, shooting longing glances for the door, it is kinda hard to remember that they are not sitting there waiting for Dawn to get home. She'd offer him a soda, but Andrew is playing hostess and it kinda annoys her since it gives her really nothing to do but hold that damned letter. From Angel. And if she is gonna hold it, it probably means she should read it and if she reads it then she will probably know and if she knows then it becomes real and lack of reality has been working just fine on the subject of Angel. Lack of reality was her fucking best friend and who the hell was this stupid kid to show up on her doorstep, goddamned American.. although, well, yes - he could be Canadian. She should probably ask if he is Canadian.
Except Andrew is already asking questions about how the kid named Connor something or other, Buffy is trying not to listen because she is holding this stupid fucking letter, about what happened in LA and how this kid has a letter from Angel. For her.
Buffy is proud that Andrew is still alive. He has lived in her apartment for over six months now, and there is an occasion once a week in which she congratulates herself for not killing him, and on the memorable event of Dawn's seventeenth birthday party, Buffy actually bought herself new shoes as a reward for Andrew's continued good health. Right now, the urge to do whatever it take to just make him stop talking is overwhelming. Good thing she has to hold that letter. That Angel wrote. To her.
And the kid is prattling on about how his relationship (relationship?? and Buffy resolutely does not think and holds her letter) with Angel is really complicated to explain, but that he got a package in the mail from him a few days after...after some kind of final battle and Buffy's mind goes carefully blank. He kinda smiles at Buffy and there is something there, something she could figure out if only it was not so important to keep her mind blank, but it doesn't matter because the kid insists on talking and insists that Angel wanted her to have this - this letter and that he decided to bring it to her in person. Because he is a student. A college student. Back-packing with pals through Europe on summer break. And he had a fucking relationship with Angel and had given her a fucking letter.
Later, she remembered that she did not notice Andrew crying at first. Maybe she did, but God, he cried more in a week than she did in a year. He cried more than Dawn, who until Andrew became the Will to their Grace, Buffy thought was a shoo-in to bring home the gold in the crying Olympics.
So Andrew snuffing quietly on the sofa was not that big of a deal. Andrew asking if Spike made it out. That was. A big deal. A big fucking deal.
Cut for kindness
It's not as if they didn't know some serious shit had gone down out in LA. They just didn't know *what* exactly had occurred and since open and honest lines of communication - and her and Angel - were a thing of some long ago, and possibly fictional past, she wasn't that concerned. Or she didn't allow herself to wonder about it. Much.
Life, her life, was busy. Dawn had school and this semester, so did she. And a kinda, sorta job that she went to every now and then and there was also her oh-so-fabulous and stimulating social life and let us never forget the slayer thing. Even as one of many, she was still pretty much Head Slayer. The one in charge. The one everyone looked to for the answers and her answer on this one particular thing is that Angel made his decision, and if he needs help he will ask for it. He's done it in the past, so why should this time be any different?
When Giles called and told her that the LA offices of that stupid-ass law firm had been swallowed up like a tiny snowglobe version of Sunnydale last year, she still told him to just wait. Then she went and danced until 4 am and then she patrolled until sunrise and while vamps may not like the holy city of Rome as a general rule, the few that do set up shop are not easy dispatches and a lot more saavy then those whose senses have been lulled by a constantly vibrating hellmouth. Patrols are generally fruitless, yet necessary, but this time she was extra dedicated and dusted two. And she was not concerned at all.
That morning brought her another phone call. Willow and her people had located Wesley's body in LA. Or the Watcher's Council had found him and Willow had spies there or Giles knew a guy who went to the same barber as...it all got terribly complicated and as she listened to her best friend drone on about how a man who was once her watcher, was found gutted, she wondered when she stopped knowing all of the important stuff that went on in Willow's life? Was it just a proximity thing - like unless she knew what shirt Willow was wearing that day or what kind of cereal she had for breakfast, it was impossible to keep a grasp on what was going on with her?
Willow also wanted to tell her about something involving dimensional tears and unbalancing of power and a whole host of evil raining down half a globe away and Buffy cut her off with a quick "end of the world?" query and once it was established that this thing would pretty much fix itself, well then - that answered that.
Buffy then spent the rest of the day wondering what kind of cereal Willow was eating now and annoyed that Andrew had eaten all of the granola and not replaced it.
Time kept moving and the end of the world didn't come, at least not this week. She ate and slept (some) and still went out and still laughed and went shopping with Dawn and teased Andrew and went to lunch with the new guy at work and he was really nice and shy and that could be a turn-on, she was discovering. Most importantly, she did not think at all about Los Angeles and cooperatively, Los Angeles was quiet and not demanding of her and hell, no news is *always* good news, since actual news is usually just crap.
To say she was not prepared when the skinny kid showed up and asked if she was Buffy, and clarified he meant the Buffy that was the slayer, and then gave her a letter and told her it was from Angel and then looked pretty miserable about being in her apartment, well, not prepared would have been a fair description.
She thought the kid was a friend of Dawn's from school. That his nervousness was about meeting the Big Sister or something when she first opened the door. Even now, holding that letter in her hand and the kid kinda hyperactively bouncing on her sofa, shooting longing glances for the door, it is kinda hard to remember that they are not sitting there waiting for Dawn to get home. She'd offer him a soda, but Andrew is playing hostess and it kinda annoys her since it gives her really nothing to do but hold that damned letter. From Angel. And if she is gonna hold it, it probably means she should read it and if she reads it then she will probably know and if she knows then it becomes real and lack of reality has been working just fine on the subject of Angel. Lack of reality was her fucking best friend and who the hell was this stupid kid to show up on her doorstep, goddamned American.. although, well, yes - he could be Canadian. She should probably ask if he is Canadian.
Except Andrew is already asking questions about how the kid named Connor something or other, Buffy is trying not to listen because she is holding this stupid fucking letter, about what happened in LA and how this kid has a letter from Angel. For her.
Buffy is proud that Andrew is still alive. He has lived in her apartment for over six months now, and there is an occasion once a week in which she congratulates herself for not killing him, and on the memorable event of Dawn's seventeenth birthday party, Buffy actually bought herself new shoes as a reward for Andrew's continued good health. Right now, the urge to do whatever it take to just make him stop talking is overwhelming. Good thing she has to hold that letter. That Angel wrote. To her.
And the kid is prattling on about how his relationship (relationship?? and Buffy resolutely does not think and holds her letter) with Angel is really complicated to explain, but that he got a package in the mail from him a few days after...after some kind of final battle and Buffy's mind goes carefully blank. He kinda smiles at Buffy and there is something there, something she could figure out if only it was not so important to keep her mind blank, but it doesn't matter because the kid insists on talking and insists that Angel wanted her to have this - this letter and that he decided to bring it to her in person. Because he is a student. A college student. Back-packing with pals through Europe on summer break. And he had a fucking relationship with Angel and had given her a fucking letter.
Later, she remembered that she did not notice Andrew crying at first. Maybe she did, but God, he cried more in a week than she did in a year. He cried more than Dawn, who until Andrew became the Will to their Grace, Buffy thought was a shoo-in to bring home the gold in the crying Olympics.
So Andrew snuffing quietly on the sofa was not that big of a deal. Andrew asking if Spike made it out. That was. A big deal. A big fucking deal.