TITLE: Yesterday's Child
AUTHOR: Drusilla
RATING: PG-13
PAIRING: Spike/Buffy, Max/Liz
SPOILERS: Season 5 of Buffy, Season Two of Roswell
SUMMARY: When Max is haunted by odd dreams of a certain petite blonde, he brings Liz along
to Sunnydale, California to investigate, in hopes of finding more of his kind.
Meanwhile, Buffy explores her feelings for Spike and discovers that everything
has changed during her absence. Set five years in the future.
Buffy/Roswell crossover, Spike/Buffy and Max/Liz 'ships.
DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine. They belong to Joss Whedon and Jason Katims.
DISRIBUTION: Sure, take it! Just let me know and credit me, please
FEEDBACK: Yes, please!
YESTERDAY'S CHILD
* * *
CHAPTER 9: ESSENCE
* * *
The scene before them is nothing they can have ever expected; but then, nothing is.
It is almost eerie, the way the shutters of the houses groan as they swing back and forth in the wind,
shrieking in high-pitched tones like a banshee's wail. They way the windows are still propped open and
the cars still sit on the driveways, their tires flat and their metal coats rusted.
She expected a ghost town, or a conspiratorial, bustling village, or a an oblivious or ignorant city such as
her own Roswell. This is none of those. This is a friendly, welcoming town that has been plucked of its
populace, a town with the appearance of any other town except that it is devoid of people. And not
simply as though the residents had picked up and moved away. No: here, it is as though the people
had, quite frankly, disappeared.
They drive onward, and soon begin to see signs of damage. A lot covered in ash where a house had
surely once stood. Strange, because its neighbours are in tact. What other mysteries await them here?
they wonder, viewing everything with suspicion and superstition.
"Where do we go first?" She breathes, squirming uncomfortably at the atmosphere of this place. There
is definitely something dark here, she thinks, something dangerous. Is this what we have set here to
find?
Max is looking better already, smiling almost as he says, "The hospital, do you think?"
She looks worried for a moment. "Are you hurt so badly?" She is narrowing her eyes once again.
He almost laughs at her. "Oh, no. We can check records. Deaths. Don't they record those?"
"At the morgue, maybe. We don't have a map," she argues pointedly.
"I know where to go. And I'm betting if they have any of those places, they're closed." He says, and
they switch sides, so that now he's in the driver's seat. The sound of their wheels on the cracked
concrete is deafening, echoing once, twice, and yet again around them. And then the tires screech to a
stop, and they've arrived.
It is a building that looks as though it had never been welcoming, even when it was in full operation.
They had seen too many deaths here, too many inexplicable mysteries that it wrapped itself close and
never let go. It became white and crisp and uncaring, even in its youth. And now, in old age, it was dark
and crumbling.
The two say nothing as they step out of their black vehicle, carefully making their way to the once-glassed
doors. Liz hits the secretary's computers at once, as Max runs his hand over the locks and begins to file
through the cabinets, raising clouds of dust and other oddities with each folder.
"There's no electricity." She say, reemerging, slowly, from underneath the desk.
He nods. So he expected. He remains silent as he runs his fingers through the "St-Sz" drawer until he
finds "Summers, Joyce", "Summers, Buffy Anne", and "Summers, Dawn."
"That's strange," she says, and he almost jumps because he had not realized she was beside him.
"What?"
"Dawn Summers. There's nothing except blank paper in the file. Everything looks like it's been erased."
He stares blankly at the sheets. "Why would they do that?"
"They wouldn't. If she didn't exist legally they wouldn't have a file at all. If she never was a patient here
they would at least have information on her address and other legal information. They wouldn't have
blank pages in her file."
He simply puts the folder aside and begins to look through the other Summers papers, relieved that they,
at least, kept no secrets.
"Max!" She exclaims, angry at his ignorance. "Don't you understand? Obviously this girl was different.
Obviously someone didn't want anyone to know. Maybe someone didn't want US to know."
"Okay. I get that."
She's still exasperated but evidently he does not care. Fine. She would do her own thing. Grabbing a
the last file, she scans through the documents quickly. "Joyce Summers. Died of an aneurysm in 2001.
Had brain cancer and a short period of mental illness." She closes the file. " There's nothing interesting
here, Max. The woman died of natural causes."
He holds a hand up. "Buffy Summers. Died in 2001 in what was reported to be a suicide. Autopsy reports
say that every bone in her body was broken. Also says that she appeared to have been struck by ten or
more bolts of lightning. Officials claim her death to be suspicious." He closes the file too. "You can't tell
me that isn't interesting."
She smiles.
"You win."
* * *
TO BE CONTINUED...
Confrontation to come! Stay tuned!
I BEG OF YOU TO REVIEW!
AUTHOR: Drusilla
RATING: PG-13
PAIRING: Spike/Buffy, Max/Liz
SPOILERS: Season 5 of Buffy, Season Two of Roswell
SUMMARY: When Max is haunted by odd dreams of a certain petite blonde, he brings Liz along
to Sunnydale, California to investigate, in hopes of finding more of his kind.
Meanwhile, Buffy explores her feelings for Spike and discovers that everything
has changed during her absence. Set five years in the future.
Buffy/Roswell crossover, Spike/Buffy and Max/Liz 'ships.
DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine. They belong to Joss Whedon and Jason Katims.
DISRIBUTION: Sure, take it! Just let me know and credit me, please
FEEDBACK: Yes, please!
YESTERDAY'S CHILD
* * *
CHAPTER 9: ESSENCE
* * *
The scene before them is nothing they can have ever expected; but then, nothing is.
It is almost eerie, the way the shutters of the houses groan as they swing back and forth in the wind,
shrieking in high-pitched tones like a banshee's wail. They way the windows are still propped open and
the cars still sit on the driveways, their tires flat and their metal coats rusted.
She expected a ghost town, or a conspiratorial, bustling village, or a an oblivious or ignorant city such as
her own Roswell. This is none of those. This is a friendly, welcoming town that has been plucked of its
populace, a town with the appearance of any other town except that it is devoid of people. And not
simply as though the residents had picked up and moved away. No: here, it is as though the people
had, quite frankly, disappeared.
They drive onward, and soon begin to see signs of damage. A lot covered in ash where a house had
surely once stood. Strange, because its neighbours are in tact. What other mysteries await them here?
they wonder, viewing everything with suspicion and superstition.
"Where do we go first?" She breathes, squirming uncomfortably at the atmosphere of this place. There
is definitely something dark here, she thinks, something dangerous. Is this what we have set here to
find?
Max is looking better already, smiling almost as he says, "The hospital, do you think?"
She looks worried for a moment. "Are you hurt so badly?" She is narrowing her eyes once again.
He almost laughs at her. "Oh, no. We can check records. Deaths. Don't they record those?"
"At the morgue, maybe. We don't have a map," she argues pointedly.
"I know where to go. And I'm betting if they have any of those places, they're closed." He says, and
they switch sides, so that now he's in the driver's seat. The sound of their wheels on the cracked
concrete is deafening, echoing once, twice, and yet again around them. And then the tires screech to a
stop, and they've arrived.
It is a building that looks as though it had never been welcoming, even when it was in full operation.
They had seen too many deaths here, too many inexplicable mysteries that it wrapped itself close and
never let go. It became white and crisp and uncaring, even in its youth. And now, in old age, it was dark
and crumbling.
The two say nothing as they step out of their black vehicle, carefully making their way to the once-glassed
doors. Liz hits the secretary's computers at once, as Max runs his hand over the locks and begins to file
through the cabinets, raising clouds of dust and other oddities with each folder.
"There's no electricity." She say, reemerging, slowly, from underneath the desk.
He nods. So he expected. He remains silent as he runs his fingers through the "St-Sz" drawer until he
finds "Summers, Joyce", "Summers, Buffy Anne", and "Summers, Dawn."
"That's strange," she says, and he almost jumps because he had not realized she was beside him.
"What?"
"Dawn Summers. There's nothing except blank paper in the file. Everything looks like it's been erased."
He stares blankly at the sheets. "Why would they do that?"
"They wouldn't. If she didn't exist legally they wouldn't have a file at all. If she never was a patient here
they would at least have information on her address and other legal information. They wouldn't have
blank pages in her file."
He simply puts the folder aside and begins to look through the other Summers papers, relieved that they,
at least, kept no secrets.
"Max!" She exclaims, angry at his ignorance. "Don't you understand? Obviously this girl was different.
Obviously someone didn't want anyone to know. Maybe someone didn't want US to know."
"Okay. I get that."
She's still exasperated but evidently he does not care. Fine. She would do her own thing. Grabbing a
the last file, she scans through the documents quickly. "Joyce Summers. Died of an aneurysm in 2001.
Had brain cancer and a short period of mental illness." She closes the file. " There's nothing interesting
here, Max. The woman died of natural causes."
He holds a hand up. "Buffy Summers. Died in 2001 in what was reported to be a suicide. Autopsy reports
say that every bone in her body was broken. Also says that she appeared to have been struck by ten or
more bolts of lightning. Officials claim her death to be suspicious." He closes the file too. "You can't tell
me that isn't interesting."
She smiles.
"You win."
* * *
TO BE CONTINUED...
Confrontation to come! Stay tuned!
I BEG OF YOU TO REVIEW!
