TITLE: Free Fall [4/4]
CHALLENGE: Timeline
AUTHOR: Nymue
EMAIL: josette@aol.com
SITE: http://lesanctuaire.dreamhost.com
RATED: PG13
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Not yours. They belong to Joss, the WB, UPN and FOX. This is a not-for-profit fanfiction. No infringement is intended.
DISTRIBUTION: Lex, Pamela, Deede and Lar (if they want it). All others please ask; I'll probably say yes, but ask first.
SUMMARY: Buffy closed the portal to save the world, but ended up in a strangely familiar body in a world where everything she ever knew took an oddly different course ... and Wesley and Spike are only the beginning. AU exploration of what could have happened to Buffy after the portal closed.
SPOILERS: "The Gift"
FEEDBACK: Is much appreciated
***
Part Four: Reasons to Fall
***
Freedom is what you do with what's been done to you.
-- Jean-Paul Sartre
***
--November 10, 1998--
I've been putting this off for two weeks now, but since I could leave this dimension any day I thought it was time. Most of my thoughts, the things I've done or said here, I've written down on loose paper and pressed into your first diary because I didn't think I had the right to write in this book. However, I've decided that that reasoning was just a cover, a way for me to forget about you while I lived your life. So, it stops now.
I don't know how much you'll know when I'm gone. You might be trapped like we both were on Halloween, able to see and hear everything but do nothing, and if so then you know what I've done and why I've done it. Then again you might have been asleep for the past couple of weeks and when you wake up you'll have a bunch of fuzzy memories ... or maybe the time I've spent in your body will be a big blank. I have to admit that the last one scares me, so that's why I've written down everything on separate pieces of paper. That way it's there if you need it ... and if not, you can forget about it.
But I'm writing here so that you won't forget. So that you can't ignore what's happened. And because I've got a few things to tell you.
First off, we've got to talk about the wardrobe. The pink leather pants are okay -- in fact, they look really good with that black tailored blouse with the three-quarter length sleeves. Even the gold lace corset is salvageable, it works well with that tawny lace dress, you know, the one with the handkerchief hem and beaded spaghetti straps. But do not, under ANY circumstances, ever wear them together again -- it's just hideous!
And as for that neon lime green bandeau top? You have a working fireplace and I put it to good use. End of story.
Fraxis was right about the free will bit, too. In getting my life together I got your life together ... or is it the other way around? I don't know and I don't think it matters. And, all things considered, I'm probably the last person who should be giving advice.
But here goes.
You've had some bad shit in your life, but so have I ... I'm not telling you to just get over it, because you can't. You can pretend all you like but the truth will always be there, and the truth is that you lost some of the people you loved. Nothing can bring your Xander, Cordelia, Oz, Amy and Jenny back -- nothing can undo what happened in Sunnydale -- nothing will make you that innocent ever again.
But you have a father who loves you, who really cares. He'll be able to handle the Slayer stuff, trust me; I would know, after all. Hell, your parents never separated -- forget divorced. You have Mattie. Giles is just waiting for you to get it together and get back to work and I'm sure Wesley would be overjoyed if you wanted to hunt Angelus (which you should, by the way, and in my notes you'll find a detailed account of what's up with Mayor Wilkins). Spike can be manipulated if you play your cards right and he's pretty handy in a fight.
Your mother is going to wake up soon. Wesley looked up the sign I described (after verifying it for himself, of course) and it's a sleep spell used by demons to put a difficult target to sleep so that they can be killed more easily. The thing is, if the victim isn't killed or doesn't die within a year then the spell is automatically voided. That means come December 12 she'll wake up ... which is something I'll never have even if I get back to my dimension.
And you have Willow.
You know, that's what wigged me the most about your life. Then I read the diaries and thought about it -- REALLY thought about it -- and I can honestly say that I might have done the same. She's been our best friend ... she's your lover and she still loves you desperately. How do I know?
I emailed her.
Yeah, you read that right. I tracked down that school her parents enrolled her in and found her new email address, sent her a message from a public terminal (using free web mail -- again, details in my notes) and viola! Guess what? The school's in Baltimore so she's not that far away ... and she graduates in mid-January. I told her everything. She knows that I'm not you, but she knows you'll be you again soon and she can't wait, but you can email her and get it from the horse's mouth.
And according to what I can figure, Wesley's tutoring has put you ahead of the game as well. You'll be eighteen in a little over a month (again, see notes for things to watch for) and you can go take the test and get your GED. Or maybe Wesley's tutoring comes with a high school equivalency test, I don't know. My point is, by March you and Willow will be high school graduates and legally of age.
Get Giles, go back to the Hellmouth and stop Angelus and the Mayor.
Love Willow and your parents.
Like Fraxis told me, you've got free will. Use it. You can't undo the past, but you can make your future better.
But live, Buffy.
LIVE.
***
Stretching her arms and yawning, Buffy pushed away from the desk and stood up, tossing the pen onto the desk beside the open diary. She groaned as her back popped and leaned over to touch her toes, stretching muscles that had begun to cramp while she sat writing. However, as she stood, she was hit by a wave nausea inducing vertigo and gasped, squeezing her eyes shut as she felt herself fall ...
Scant seconds later she realized the sick feeling was gone and she opened her eyes not to the ceiling with intricate scrollwork to which she had become accustomed, but to a blue sky and bright sunlight. Rolling her eyes she could see nothing else and started to sit up only to discover that doing so hurt her head, causing an involuntary groan to escape her parched parched? throat.
"Damn it, B, you scared me!" a familiar voice chastised.
Buffy felt strong arms help her up and Faith's face came into view, worry etched on her features. Beyond that was desert, miles and miles of desert and nothing but. A sick feeling gripped her mind as she realized what had happened, but she shoved it away in favor of concentrating on her present circumstances. Once she was steady on her feet the supportive arms reluctantly released her, allowing her to turn and face the other member in this little drama.
"Pike?"
He laughed. "Yeah, who'd you expect?"
The shocked expression on her face told both her companions that something was wrong. "You okay, B?" Faith asked. "That was a hell of a hit to your head, maybe you should sit back down."
Buffy shook her head. "No, my head feels fine ... it's just that I need to tell you something, but ... "
Pike nodded. "This place is too open, too exposed for a talk. We need to find shelter for the night."
"But should she drive?" Faith pointed out.
"She's gonna have to."
"Hello," Buffy grumbled. "I'm right here."
Pike laughed again, but this time it sounded genuine. "If she can quip she's fine, Faith. Don't worry about Buffy -- she too damn tough."
Tough, Buffy wondered. Looking down she found herself encased in black leather from head to toe, the only exception being the gray cotton tank top. Before she could do more, however, Faith was pulling her toward the nearby road. "Let's get going, B. Time to play with the boytoy later," she said as they rounded a large cactus.
Buffy stopped dead in her tracks.
"C'mon, B," Faith called as she climbed astride one of three black Harleys.
"Yeah, let's make dust," Pike said, claiming one of the other bikes.
Both stared back at her and Buffy realized they were waiting for her to climb up on the last remaining deathtrap. But I barely drive a car, she wailed internally. What am I supposed to do?
Buffy shut her eyes and swore.
"Fuck ... "'
END
CHALLENGE: Timeline
AUTHOR: Nymue
EMAIL: josette@aol.com
SITE: http://lesanctuaire.dreamhost.com
RATED: PG13
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Not yours. They belong to Joss, the WB, UPN and FOX. This is a not-for-profit fanfiction. No infringement is intended.
DISTRIBUTION: Lex, Pamela, Deede and Lar (if they want it). All others please ask; I'll probably say yes, but ask first.
SUMMARY: Buffy closed the portal to save the world, but ended up in a strangely familiar body in a world where everything she ever knew took an oddly different course ... and Wesley and Spike are only the beginning. AU exploration of what could have happened to Buffy after the portal closed.
SPOILERS: "The Gift"
FEEDBACK: Is much appreciated
***
Part Four: Reasons to Fall
***
Freedom is what you do with what's been done to you.
-- Jean-Paul Sartre
***
--November 10, 1998--
I've been putting this off for two weeks now, but since I could leave this dimension any day I thought it was time. Most of my thoughts, the things I've done or said here, I've written down on loose paper and pressed into your first diary because I didn't think I had the right to write in this book. However, I've decided that that reasoning was just a cover, a way for me to forget about you while I lived your life. So, it stops now.
I don't know how much you'll know when I'm gone. You might be trapped like we both were on Halloween, able to see and hear everything but do nothing, and if so then you know what I've done and why I've done it. Then again you might have been asleep for the past couple of weeks and when you wake up you'll have a bunch of fuzzy memories ... or maybe the time I've spent in your body will be a big blank. I have to admit that the last one scares me, so that's why I've written down everything on separate pieces of paper. That way it's there if you need it ... and if not, you can forget about it.
But I'm writing here so that you won't forget. So that you can't ignore what's happened. And because I've got a few things to tell you.
First off, we've got to talk about the wardrobe. The pink leather pants are okay -- in fact, they look really good with that black tailored blouse with the three-quarter length sleeves. Even the gold lace corset is salvageable, it works well with that tawny lace dress, you know, the one with the handkerchief hem and beaded spaghetti straps. But do not, under ANY circumstances, ever wear them together again -- it's just hideous!
And as for that neon lime green bandeau top? You have a working fireplace and I put it to good use. End of story.
Fraxis was right about the free will bit, too. In getting my life together I got your life together ... or is it the other way around? I don't know and I don't think it matters. And, all things considered, I'm probably the last person who should be giving advice.
But here goes.
You've had some bad shit in your life, but so have I ... I'm not telling you to just get over it, because you can't. You can pretend all you like but the truth will always be there, and the truth is that you lost some of the people you loved. Nothing can bring your Xander, Cordelia, Oz, Amy and Jenny back -- nothing can undo what happened in Sunnydale -- nothing will make you that innocent ever again.
But you have a father who loves you, who really cares. He'll be able to handle the Slayer stuff, trust me; I would know, after all. Hell, your parents never separated -- forget divorced. You have Mattie. Giles is just waiting for you to get it together and get back to work and I'm sure Wesley would be overjoyed if you wanted to hunt Angelus (which you should, by the way, and in my notes you'll find a detailed account of what's up with Mayor Wilkins). Spike can be manipulated if you play your cards right and he's pretty handy in a fight.
Your mother is going to wake up soon. Wesley looked up the sign I described (after verifying it for himself, of course) and it's a sleep spell used by demons to put a difficult target to sleep so that they can be killed more easily. The thing is, if the victim isn't killed or doesn't die within a year then the spell is automatically voided. That means come December 12 she'll wake up ... which is something I'll never have even if I get back to my dimension.
And you have Willow.
You know, that's what wigged me the most about your life. Then I read the diaries and thought about it -- REALLY thought about it -- and I can honestly say that I might have done the same. She's been our best friend ... she's your lover and she still loves you desperately. How do I know?
I emailed her.
Yeah, you read that right. I tracked down that school her parents enrolled her in and found her new email address, sent her a message from a public terminal (using free web mail -- again, details in my notes) and viola! Guess what? The school's in Baltimore so she's not that far away ... and she graduates in mid-January. I told her everything. She knows that I'm not you, but she knows you'll be you again soon and she can't wait, but you can email her and get it from the horse's mouth.
And according to what I can figure, Wesley's tutoring has put you ahead of the game as well. You'll be eighteen in a little over a month (again, see notes for things to watch for) and you can go take the test and get your GED. Or maybe Wesley's tutoring comes with a high school equivalency test, I don't know. My point is, by March you and Willow will be high school graduates and legally of age.
Get Giles, go back to the Hellmouth and stop Angelus and the Mayor.
Love Willow and your parents.
Like Fraxis told me, you've got free will. Use it. You can't undo the past, but you can make your future better.
But live, Buffy.
LIVE.
***
Stretching her arms and yawning, Buffy pushed away from the desk and stood up, tossing the pen onto the desk beside the open diary. She groaned as her back popped and leaned over to touch her toes, stretching muscles that had begun to cramp while she sat writing. However, as she stood, she was hit by a wave nausea inducing vertigo and gasped, squeezing her eyes shut as she felt herself fall ...
Scant seconds later she realized the sick feeling was gone and she opened her eyes not to the ceiling with intricate scrollwork to which she had become accustomed, but to a blue sky and bright sunlight. Rolling her eyes she could see nothing else and started to sit up only to discover that doing so hurt her head, causing an involuntary groan to escape her parched parched? throat.
"Damn it, B, you scared me!" a familiar voice chastised.
Buffy felt strong arms help her up and Faith's face came into view, worry etched on her features. Beyond that was desert, miles and miles of desert and nothing but. A sick feeling gripped her mind as she realized what had happened, but she shoved it away in favor of concentrating on her present circumstances. Once she was steady on her feet the supportive arms reluctantly released her, allowing her to turn and face the other member in this little drama.
"Pike?"
He laughed. "Yeah, who'd you expect?"
The shocked expression on her face told both her companions that something was wrong. "You okay, B?" Faith asked. "That was a hell of a hit to your head, maybe you should sit back down."
Buffy shook her head. "No, my head feels fine ... it's just that I need to tell you something, but ... "
Pike nodded. "This place is too open, too exposed for a talk. We need to find shelter for the night."
"But should she drive?" Faith pointed out.
"She's gonna have to."
"Hello," Buffy grumbled. "I'm right here."
Pike laughed again, but this time it sounded genuine. "If she can quip she's fine, Faith. Don't worry about Buffy -- she too damn tough."
Tough, Buffy wondered. Looking down she found herself encased in black leather from head to toe, the only exception being the gray cotton tank top. Before she could do more, however, Faith was pulling her toward the nearby road. "Let's get going, B. Time to play with the boytoy later," she said as they rounded a large cactus.
Buffy stopped dead in her tracks.
"C'mon, B," Faith called as she climbed astride one of three black Harleys.
"Yeah, let's make dust," Pike said, claiming one of the other bikes.
Both stared back at her and Buffy realized they were waiting for her to climb up on the last remaining deathtrap. But I barely drive a car, she wailed internally. What am I supposed to do?
Buffy shut her eyes and swore.
"Fuck ... "'
END