Hi, this is my frist fanfic of both Buffy and Lost . It just popped in my head and I had to get it out. It has been a long time since I wrote anything and the story its self is kind of strange. If you can offer any help , please do and hopefully it's not too bad.

Pretty Things

Lost/ Buffy

Boone/ Drusilla

Pg-13

Disclaimer: I do not own , pout. J.J. Abrams and Joss Wheaden do.

When she tries to remember her old life , it's all fuzzy and foggy , like looking through a broken stained glass window. A pretty stained glass window of church , right next to the confession. She knows that once she was a good girl who would sit in a church, but she is broken now just as glass can be and it was a very long time ago. It seems as if it is was a story she was told once , a fairly tale that starts once upon a time, but it was only told a couple of times , so she only remembers pieces. She remembers colors , blues and crimson when day first starts to break, tastes , like golden sticky honey that was sweet mixed with the salty taste of biscuits, and the feel of kisses against her check to say goodnight. And she remembers pictures and whispers in her head that would tell what was to come. That was what she remembers of her first life.

Her second life came with pain ,loss, and darkness. Knowing it would happen before it did, when the whispers spoke to her. The new life started with the saltiness of her tears and a kiss that said goodnight to who she was. She was born into a new family. Her daddy , who broke her and put the pieces back together again in a new way , her Angel. With his dark eyes , and dark hair calling her Princess and bringing her pretty things. After all, she was a princess, and princesses liked pretty things. And every princess needs a prince and she found one , her Spike. He was a pretty thing as well , blue eyes that reminded her of the sea, and he was fierce and loyal and everything a prince should be. It was her very own happily ever after fairy tale , but even fairytales must end .

Souls and slayers wrecked her happy home and she was alone. She was a princess with out a prince, but the whispers told her that soon she would be able to have a new life with a new prince.

She went to this place to see the kangaroos, when she saw him. The whispers told her of his secrets in the dark, of falls and hidden kisses and what was supposed to be. Crashes, and scrapes, secrets that were not just his to keep. She could smell the sweat of his sin, her sin, against his skin. She cried out to him in the darkened street, pretending to fall, to trip. He came , and helped, always trying to find his damsel. She smiled and asked his name. Boone, a favor , a gift , her gift. It had been a long time since she had a pretty thing. His eyes were shiny and bright ,blue as the sea. They still seem to shine as his life started to drain away. His blood was sticky, salty, sweat, like biscuits and honey. His lips were soft against her skin as her blood poured down his throat. The pretty blue eyes closed shut and she kissed his cheek goodnight , and sang a lullaby to him of their fairy tale to come.