Manhattan in Winter
Pairing: B/G
Post- NFA
Rated most audiences
Author: Arisluv aka Willowschild. Written for Live Journal's scratchingpost1 who needed a ficlet placed in a cold local since her a/c was broken.
Buffy wrapped the ski jacket tightly around her body. The icy breeze still cut through the down filled lining and made her feel as though her whole self were turning into one of the beautiful sculptures she'd come to the park to see.
So beautiful, she thought as her hand grazed over the crystalline edges of the dragon's wings. The artist had been painstakingly accurate in his design. His attention to detail made Buffy question if he'd really been there. But she knew he couldn't have been. That battle had few survivors and those who had wished only to forget.
Buffy shivered again. She remembered a night not long enough ago to forget in a place far warmer than Manhattan in winter. Blood flooded streets as the rain washed away the sins of the beasts. Saint and sinner alike lay lifeless in the alley. Buffy stood close enough to the enormous beast to feel his fetid breath on her face. And with one last slice of the blade, she slew the dragon. Two former loves were struggling to survive mere paces away and all Buffy could think was how much she hated this job. She left L.A. for good that night. She still spoke to Angel and Spike from time to time, but mostly she heard about them from Dawn and Willow who kept her updated on everyone from the group. She had a good feeling that they did the same about her. Her friends were good like that. Hugging herself a little tighter, Buffy thought that maybe she should make more of an effort with them all.
"Stunning isn't it?" A voice broke into her thoughts. "Such a magnificent creature," he started.
"I find it haunting more than anything else," She replied sharply.
"I meant the girl. Such power wrapped up in so small a package. She reminds me of a young woman I once knew."
Buffy didn't look up. Her eyes fixated on the figure of a girl brandishing a large sword. Again, the detailing took her back. Wisps of hair had been carved into the ice as if trapped forever in time. A tear in her jacket appeared above the warrior's left arm. Buffy rubbed the matching place on her bicep. The scar, still fresh, burned at the memory.
" But, the woman I knew walked away from the battle. This child is entangled with her demons till time ends, or at least until my memory fades." The man continued to speak, even though Buffy showed no evidence of listening. He touched her shoulder, "Maybe the woman did not walk so far away after all?"
Buffy turned to him. She finally broke away from the trance of the ice sculpture to pay attention to the artist himself. Though scarred and aged slightly more than she'd last seen him, the grey-green eyes could not be altered.
"Gi –" she started. He hushed her with his cool fingers across her lips. So many emotions crossed his face before he settled upon the softest expression of love.
"I've missed you, Buffy. We've all missed you," he whispered in her ear as he brushed away her long blonde hairs. Buffy trembled as she wrapped her arms around him.
"You were there?"
Tears filled her eyes. The warmth of them stung against the chill her body felt. Buffy had left for the battle without telling anyone else what was going on. She'd acted selfishly, but as usual, that hadn't stopped the others from standing by her side.
"Of course, my love. Where else would I be? My place is by your side." Giles tilted Buffy's chin up so that she could look him in the eye. He kissed her gently, offering her every opportunity to pull away. His heart leapt when she stayed in his arms. "As it always has been."
"Always," Buffy whispered in response. Suddenly, the cold didn't cut so deep. The wind didn't slice through the layers of cloth and feathers. And the city didn't feel so lonely.