Fic: Coming Apart (10/?)

["buffythebushkangaroo" <buffythebushkangaroo@xxxxxxxxxxx>]

Spoiler Warning.

Spoilers for episodes:

17 - Normal Again.
18 - Entropy
19 - Seeing Red
20 - Villains

*hugs to Carol and Spik... for caring!*

Apologies for the shortness of this part - illness and work.

Apologies for a possible double-post. My email is foobar :/

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Anne-Lise.

--

Stalking through the darkness, perhaps the only part of her duty 
she truly enjoys, she starts to sing quietly under her breath.
"Every single night, the same arrangement, I go out and fight the 
fight..."
Suddenly her radio crackles. "Can you repeat that? Over."
Buffy thumbs her radio over to 'talk'. "Sorry Riley. Just got this 
song stuck in my head."
"Ah... Not a problem. Er, Xander asks whether you'd call it a book 
number, or a breakaway pop hit?" In the background, distorted by the 
static, she can hear Xander laughing his ass off.
Buffy grins, unable to help herself. "Not really. But if you want 
to see something really amusing, you could try asking Xander to show 
you some of his dance moves."
"Um, will do. Over."
Buffy continues into the night, followed only by demons who want to 
flay off her skin.

*

Sometimes, its as if all I have left to give her is blood and 
tears. I'm trapped within a vicious circle of death and misery. But 
then I see the look in her eyes and think: I wish there was something 
more that I could do, something more that I could give. I'd give up 
my life for her; Hell, I already have. But saying it just makes it 
seem so... philanthropic. And I'm not. I'm really not.
Yet what else can I give her? I've few material possessions of any 
worth. All I have left to offer her is my heart. I just hope that its 
enough.
I hear a snarl from behind, and despite myself, a tear drips down 
my cheek.
"Let's do this."

*

"What the hell are *you* doing here?" Willow asks, and I pause, the 
spoon halfway to my mouth. I glance up and see Jonathon standing in 
the doorway to the kitchen. Clumsily, so unlike the gracefulness of 
my sister, I fumble for a weapon.
"And just how did you get past our security perimeter?" Riley adds 
as he enters the kitchen. He'd just come from his tiny operations 
room under the stairs. Its cosy under there, believe me. Especially 
with his wife sharing the sleeping bag. Sam is such a hottie! Oh, how 
I wish...
"I..." Jonathon looks a little bewildered, as if he can't believe 
the awesome stupidity of just walking in here like this. But hell, 
tell that to my sister's other arch-nemesises... nemeses... pains in 
her butt. Spike seems to have a season ticket. "I'm here to help," he 
suggests.
"That's possibly the funniest thing I've heard in my entire life," 
Buffy says, as she stands in the doorway behind him. "Well, this one, 
at any rate."
I throw her a dark look. I hate it when she refers to her death 
so... off-handedly. It trivialises the pain we're all going through, 
and the memories of those who won't be coming back.
Willow notices the smears of blood and tears in her clothing before 
I do.
"Are you okay?" she asks, her concern evident. I feel a twinge of 
guilt for not sharing that concern as deeply. Am I such a terrible 
person?
"I'm here because..." Jonathon collects himself, visibly.
Buffy, ever the impatient one, prods him in the small of his back 
with Mr. Pointy. "Well?"
"Warren's going to try and kill your sister," he said, looking 
directly at me.
I stare. "Warren's going to try and kill Buffy?"
"Er, no." Jonathon stammers. "I was talking to Buffy. I just can't 
look her in the eye when she has a loaded wooden stick pressed 
against my back."
"Warren wants to kill me?" Even I have to wince at the squeak in my 
voice.

*

End Part 10.