no regrets ...drabble continues
Mar. 29th, 2005 08:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shadowkat[Buffy at 40 sees a human Spike, now called Will on his mountain top. No sex.
Not betaed or proofed...just me writing what's in my head, satisfying myself.]
With only a little initial awkwardness, Buffy sucessfully turned the conversation to neutral issues such as the weather and current events. He regaled her with a story about a mountain lion stalking a deer and the hawk's building their nest in one of the trees. The weather, itself, proved to be a dicier topic than she realized - since as a vampire he'd rarely had to deal with it. Much. Oh he got cold at times, he told her and never much liked the damp. But it's not the same when you're human. Heat was different too, vamp's burned, sure, but didn't sweat not like human's did. Also there was the sun, brilliant in all its tones and shades, how it lit the sky, filtered through the leaves, touched things, soft, yet at the same time brutal. He had learned to careful of it up here - after obtaining a particularly wicked full body sunburn. Suffice it to say there were some parts of the human body that were never meant to see that much sunshine. Buffy giggled.
The remains of their tea lying scattered on the table before them, they chatted about the variety of SPF lotions, Will preferring the natural organic varitey - most lotions making him break out horridly. Charles and Annie apparently lived in one of the nearby towns - about a 3 hour bike ride away.
Angel, she knew, lived further up north, in Seattle, near his son.
"See the old man once or twice a year, sometimes more. Depending on how nostalgic he gets. Those portraits over there - towards the hall? They're his. You'll see a few more scattered about. Quite the artist, Liam. Course he's only been at for a 100 odd years."
Buffy nodded, remembering Angel's drawings. She still had a few of them. Not the ones he'd drawn while Angelus, but latter ones, ones he'd drawn that last year they were together, before he left for LA. Funny, how in her mind she still kept the two separate even though she knew they were one and the same. "So you said you were a poet once? Do you still write?"
"Yeah. Better at it than I was then. Wasn't much of a poet then. Thought I was though. Fretted over every word back then. Thumbed through dictionaries hunting the right ones. Then would attempt to cram them into verse whether they fit or not." He placed his cup down and smiled slightly. "Mother just encouraged me. Telling me to read her one awful verse after another. Lines dripping with sentimentality - ever read Jonathan Seagul or those new age romantic poets or Barry Manilow? Well my stuff wasn't much different. Liam?
Loved them though. He likes the sentimential stuff. Won't admit it, but the old man has a sentimental streak. Drives his kid batty. Now? It's actually decent. Sold a few as songs. And last year? Annie found me an agent, so we might get a book published. Nothing major. Just a few short ones mostly about the woods, a few about my Mum, and one or two about...the ladies."
Buffy hesitated, uncertain whether to ask to read them. "I'd like to see a few if you have any handy?"
He cast a sidelong glance at her, tilting his head slightly. Reminding her a vaguely of cat, warily checking out a new visitor to its territory. "Perhaps later, don't really have it lying around."
She nodded and changed the topic quickly to current events, his house, tv shows and the outdoors. Feeling a bit as if they were doing an odd dance around themselves and their past, avoiding it, yet inevitably hitting on it at the same time.
Listening to him talk at times in short sarcastic bites, reminding her a bit of the Spike she'd known, others in a long precise carefully worded sentences, she realized how close he and Angel had become - how much they needed each other, especially now. Invariably he'd refer to Angel no matter what the topic. Reminded her a bit of how she felt about Faith - someone who got you on a level no one else quite did. Too much of Faith - drove her crazy of course,
but every once and a while, she needed to touch base, make sure she was okay, see what Faith was up to. As a reality check if nothing else. It was odd, after all these years, to think that the person she felt the closest to and trusted the most had at one time been her worste enemy, had been someone she'd tried to kill. Of all her friends,Faith - she knew would always tell her the God's honest truth. No batting about. Direct. Blunt. To the Point. That was Faithy. Faith kept her honest and it was, oddly Faith, her sister in more ways than even Dawn could ever be, that had helped her reach the stage she was in now.
"You see much of the Bit? Bet she's grown into a right handsome lady," he said interrupting her thoughts.
"Who?"
"Dawn."
"Not that much. She's busy as am I. Also not that much in common any more, now that she's teaching archeology in Rome, full time. She's happy though. Spends her vacations on digs, and helps out in her spare time with Watcher Council."
"Surprised she didn't become a Watcher."
Buffy shrugged. "It wasn't her calling. Besides the role has changed a bit since...well the old days." Truth was she saw very little of Dawn. Much as she loved her, Dawn had spread her wings and flown her own way. They rarely saw each other outside of holidays and the occassional sisterly chat. Faith actually saw more of her sister than she did. Wasn't intentional, nor did she regret it, just happened. They had little in common outside of blood and their experiences in Sunnydale. In Rome they'd more or less begun to live separate lives.
Breaking off here to go watch Veronica Mars which is calling me...ta.
Not betaed or proofed...just me writing what's in my head, satisfying myself.]
With only a little initial awkwardness, Buffy sucessfully turned the conversation to neutral issues such as the weather and current events. He regaled her with a story about a mountain lion stalking a deer and the hawk's building their nest in one of the trees. The weather, itself, proved to be a dicier topic than she realized - since as a vampire he'd rarely had to deal with it. Much. Oh he got cold at times, he told her and never much liked the damp. But it's not the same when you're human. Heat was different too, vamp's burned, sure, but didn't sweat not like human's did. Also there was the sun, brilliant in all its tones and shades, how it lit the sky, filtered through the leaves, touched things, soft, yet at the same time brutal. He had learned to careful of it up here - after obtaining a particularly wicked full body sunburn. Suffice it to say there were some parts of the human body that were never meant to see that much sunshine. Buffy giggled.
The remains of their tea lying scattered on the table before them, they chatted about the variety of SPF lotions, Will preferring the natural organic varitey - most lotions making him break out horridly. Charles and Annie apparently lived in one of the nearby towns - about a 3 hour bike ride away.
Angel, she knew, lived further up north, in Seattle, near his son.
"See the old man once or twice a year, sometimes more. Depending on how nostalgic he gets. Those portraits over there - towards the hall? They're his. You'll see a few more scattered about. Quite the artist, Liam. Course he's only been at for a 100 odd years."
Buffy nodded, remembering Angel's drawings. She still had a few of them. Not the ones he'd drawn while Angelus, but latter ones, ones he'd drawn that last year they were together, before he left for LA. Funny, how in her mind she still kept the two separate even though she knew they were one and the same. "So you said you were a poet once? Do you still write?"
"Yeah. Better at it than I was then. Wasn't much of a poet then. Thought I was though. Fretted over every word back then. Thumbed through dictionaries hunting the right ones. Then would attempt to cram them into verse whether they fit or not." He placed his cup down and smiled slightly. "Mother just encouraged me. Telling me to read her one awful verse after another. Lines dripping with sentimentality - ever read Jonathan Seagul or those new age romantic poets or Barry Manilow? Well my stuff wasn't much different. Liam?
Loved them though. He likes the sentimential stuff. Won't admit it, but the old man has a sentimental streak. Drives his kid batty. Now? It's actually decent. Sold a few as songs. And last year? Annie found me an agent, so we might get a book published. Nothing major. Just a few short ones mostly about the woods, a few about my Mum, and one or two about...the ladies."
Buffy hesitated, uncertain whether to ask to read them. "I'd like to see a few if you have any handy?"
He cast a sidelong glance at her, tilting his head slightly. Reminding her a vaguely of cat, warily checking out a new visitor to its territory. "Perhaps later, don't really have it lying around."
She nodded and changed the topic quickly to current events, his house, tv shows and the outdoors. Feeling a bit as if they were doing an odd dance around themselves and their past, avoiding it, yet inevitably hitting on it at the same time.
Listening to him talk at times in short sarcastic bites, reminding her a bit of the Spike she'd known, others in a long precise carefully worded sentences, she realized how close he and Angel had become - how much they needed each other, especially now. Invariably he'd refer to Angel no matter what the topic. Reminded her a bit of how she felt about Faith - someone who got you on a level no one else quite did. Too much of Faith - drove her crazy of course,
but every once and a while, she needed to touch base, make sure she was okay, see what Faith was up to. As a reality check if nothing else. It was odd, after all these years, to think that the person she felt the closest to and trusted the most had at one time been her worste enemy, had been someone she'd tried to kill. Of all her friends,Faith - she knew would always tell her the God's honest truth. No batting about. Direct. Blunt. To the Point. That was Faithy. Faith kept her honest and it was, oddly Faith, her sister in more ways than even Dawn could ever be, that had helped her reach the stage she was in now.
"You see much of the Bit? Bet she's grown into a right handsome lady," he said interrupting her thoughts.
"Who?"
"Dawn."
"Not that much. She's busy as am I. Also not that much in common any more, now that she's teaching archeology in Rome, full time. She's happy though. Spends her vacations on digs, and helps out in her spare time with Watcher Council."
"Surprised she didn't become a Watcher."
Buffy shrugged. "It wasn't her calling. Besides the role has changed a bit since...well the old days." Truth was she saw very little of Dawn. Much as she loved her, Dawn had spread her wings and flown her own way. They rarely saw each other outside of holidays and the occassional sisterly chat. Faith actually saw more of her sister than she did. Wasn't intentional, nor did she regret it, just happened. They had little in common outside of blood and their experiences in Sunnydale. In Rome they'd more or less begun to live separate lives.
Breaking off here to go watch Veronica Mars which is calling me...ta.
no subject
Date: 2005-03-30 12:38 am (UTC)