Fic: Graile Intermission II

[Jack Xavier Warriner <connor_macbeth@xxxxxxxxx>]

Graile Intermission II
By: Macbeth
Disclaimers: Usual.
Authors Note: Sorry for the delay, My Hard Drive had a
tiny explosion. I have to rewrite Graile
Chapter 3. I humbly beg thy patience.


Dear B,
My condolences for your loss. I?d have sent this
earlier, but I just now found out. A full
week after the fact. I?ll be there for the funeral.
Merrick was a good man. I know several Watchers, and
rarely do they have as much personality and wit as he
did. I pray you believe that I wish I had been there.
I?m here Buffy. If you need help, a hand, or simply a
shoulder to lean on, I?m here. Give me a call.
I have to go. 
Remember, Time passes, wounds heal, scars fade, but
memories are forever.

JC

Jack signed his name to the paper and slid it neatly
into the stamped envelope. Standing up, he walked to
the brass drop tube and opened the slot. He popped the
letter in and slipped over to the window to watch the
Saturday morning traffic, three stories below.
?Jack? You up here mate?? Aki?s voice echoed form the
ground floor.
?Aye. Up here.? He replied.
The mechanical sounds of the lift rumbled through the
building followed by the shifting of
the metal grate being lifted. A moment passed as Aki
viewed some of the more rare and obscure relics her
friend managed to gather in his Manhattan Townhouse.
Grinning, Aki sat across from the Irishman on the open
windowsill. ?How?s the bookstore?? he asked, not
taking his eyes from the civilized chaos below.
?Still open.?
?Funny.?
?So it happened? He?s dead?? she asked as casually as
though she was asking about the Yankees.
?Yes. You morbid little girl. Merrick was killed by a
Vampire seven days ago.? He leaned back against the
brick sill and closed his eyes. ?I knew him. He was a
good man.?
?So... When is she moving?? she asked, cleaning her
nails with the tip of her pocketknife.
?In roughly a month.? he answered. 
?When do you leave?? she asked in a disappointed
tone.
?Tomorrow night.? he turned to see her pouted lip.
?Hey, As soon as I get back we?ll go somewhere. Paris,
Sydney, Cairo, You name it. Even I need a change of
pace after this.?
?Dublin??
?What is it with you and Irish girls?? He said
grinning wide.
She shrugged and adjusted the waist band of her cargo
pants. ?Can I help it if they find me irresistible??
?Uh huh, I believe you.?
*	*	*	
Jack,
Thanks for the letter. I really needed to hear
support from someone who knows what?s going on. Thanks
for coming to the funeral. Though only the four of us
were there. I thought it was nice of the Host to sing
?Amazing Grace? after the Priest?s eulogy. 
Pike and I aren?t as tight as we used to be. I don?t
know what?s wrong, if it?s something I did, or if this
has been coming for a while. I feel kind of guilty,
what I felt for him has slowly faded. You know things,
tell me something. Does this come with the job?
Loneliness, I mean. Am I doomed to be alone? Merrick
said that once. ?The Slayer stands alone against the
Evil. The one beacon of Light against the Darkness.?
Depressing, but did he have a point? Am I supposed to
do this alone? I?ve lost track of how many times Pike
was placed danger. And me? I?m fifteen.
Will I live past seventeen?
That felt good. Just venting like that. Thanks.
Mom and Dad have done it, like you said they would.
Though how you knew after meeting them for five
minutes is more than a little odd. The divorce is
final next week. Mom and I are moving to some dirt
hole about three hours away. I?ll give you the address
at the end. 
Jot me a reply.

B
P.s. 1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale Ca. 90017

Buffy dropped the sealed envelope on the kitchen
counter and pulled her leather jacket on tighter
before opening the front door and heading out in a
dead run. Joyce walked into the kitchen just as Buffy
started to run. ?Buffy..? I swear that girl is never
hear anymore...? She mumbled to herself as her husband
Hank walked into the kitchen and set down his
briefcase on the counter. ?Late night again Hank?? she
asked without a hint of emotion.
?Yes, Joyce. One of us has to work, so it might as
well be me. Besides, Wolfram and Hart doesn?t hire the
best without expecting a sacrifice or two.? Hank said,
managing to sound proud of himself. ?I was hoping for
a little support from you on this.? he muttered loud
enough for her to hear as he headed out the front
door. 
Joyce waited until she heard her soon to be
ex-husband?s BMW pull out of the driveway before
laughing. ?Forgot your briefcase again... Asshole.?
Filling a glass with a dark red wine, she moved into
the living room and settled down for a night of Cary
Grant movies.

Fin

MacBeth
The Kamikazi Scotsman
The Kilted Moogle

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