- It’s All Coming Back To Me Pt. 1
- It’s All Coming Back To Me Pt. 2
- It’s All Coming Back To Me Pt. 3
- It’s All Coming Back To Me pt 4
- Story banner – All Coming Back to Me
Buffy’s Story
“Mark said you’d been married,” Spike said. “Let me guess. Tall, dark, broody?”
“Got it in one. Damn my hormones and repetitive behaviour. Unfortunately, he was boring too.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time. I seem to recall a certain soldier-boy…”
“Would you let me tell my story, please? And don’t speak ill of the dead.”
“Sorry.” He looked down into his coffee. “I didn’t know.”
“Demon-hunting in Iraq. He left Sam and three kids.” She sighed a sad sigh. “That was a long time ago. And you wanted to know about Anthony.”
He looked into her eyes. “I want to know everything about you.”
Looking down didn’t hide her blush. “After what happened in Sunnydale, we started to rebuild the Watcher’s Council, but with less stuffiness. Or so we hoped. Anthony was the son of one of the Watchers who was killed in the London explosion. And I don’t want you to get me wrong. He’s a good man. But god, is he stuffy.
The closer we should have been growing, the more I threw myself into my work. Finding Slayers, training them. Then we found out something disturbing. Slayers were going down fighting, as had always been, but no new ones were being called. It was like we’d blown the wad, when Willow activated them all. The youngest Slayers now are in their twenties. Someday there won’t be any at all.
We’re finding other girls, and men too. People good in martial arts with a talent for demon hunting. When the Slayers are all gone, hopefully there will still be people ready to fight the Big Bads.
Anyway, I had a certain stature as the first of the group. The one who’d been Slayer the longest. Anthony was proud at first to be with me, but it didn’t take long before he started to resent it. I tried to make it work, at least I hope I did. But in the end we crashed and burned, and you’re looking at an ex-married lady. I wonder what Mom would have thought. Maybe it’s genetic.”
“Your mother would be proud of you. She’d want you to be happy.”
“I’d like to think so. At least there were no kids to get caught in the middle. I’d probably be a crap mom anyway.”
“That’s not true. I don’t believe that for a second. Bloody hell, if I could be a decent dad, you’d be amazing.”
“That’s kind.”
“That’s what I think.” He picked up the bill the waiter had dropped on the table and pulled his wallet back out. “Do you want to go for a walk? There’s a park near here.”
“I’d like that.”
Originally posted at http://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/210993.html