Home : Stories by Author : Stories by Kimi : Not That Girl Anymore
Summary: Just a few minutes in the private life of a slayer
AUTHOR: Kimi
EMAIL: kimi37212@yahoo.com
RATING: PG-13
PAIRING: Buffy/Spike
SPOILERS: Post-'Chosen', of course
DISCLAIMER: All Joss, all ME, all the time.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Unbeta'd. Un-everything. I don't even know why it wouldn't let
me sleep the other night until I put it down...
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She glanced at the picture and then up into the mirror, squinting to find some trace of that girl in her face.
Shaking her head, she came to the usual conclusion. She was not that girl anymore. Wondered if she ever had been, or if this was another little something that had been planted by the monks, as they had with her memories of Dawn as a child.
The photographs had been in Xander's wallet, graduation pictures of them all shoved into one plastic cover. Typical guy's wallet. The girl in the graduation photo was like a stranger.
There had also been a photo of the three of them: Xander, Buffy, Willow. And one of Anya. Buffy had no idea who had taken them. She thought it might have been her mom. Copies had been made of all of them, and distributed.
It seemed that her friend's battered wallet had carried all of the pictoral history that any of them had left. The rest had been destroyed when Sunnydale had fallen into Hell. Except for Dawn's wallet, which had held one prize, a picture of their mother. The other photos had been a `catch-as-catch-can' collection of school pictures. Dawn couldn't even recall some of the names to go with the faces. She held on to the pictures, though. Just to remind her. Buffy hoped all of them had gotten out safely before things had gotten so bad.
She herself had carried nothing away with her. She'd traveled light to the mouth of Hell, expecting to win, yes, but not really expecting to return.
Slipping the photos back into the pocket of the battered leather bag, she dug deeper in. The bag had lain unclaimed in the school bus, as so many handbags and plastic sacks had. Willow had called her over and handed it to her without a word.
Yes, Xander held the last precious photographs, but the treasures that Buffy spent late nights puzzling over, chuckling about, and crying helplessly into, had been in the scuffed bag.
She took a breath and reverently reached inside. Bypassing the nicked cross-bow bolt, the old book of English poetry, the broken knife blade and a suspiciously-familiar looking pair of lace panties, she pulled out a black leather belt with its square silver buckle.
The empty belt loops had always amused her. She'd figured the belt was long gone.
Been wrong, of course. Wrong about so many things until the end.
She really wasn't that girl anymore.
She held the last bit of Spike's duster to her nose and inhaled. Her tears only made the scent of the leather stronger.
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Kimi - kimi37212@yahoo.com