Loving Eternally: Chapter 3
by Lisette

Legalese: See Chapter 1 for disclaimers and ratings.

A Few Days Later
Sunnydale, California

Nighttime settled over the quiet little town of Sunnydale, and the normal night life of any college town on a Friday night began to buzz. As Buffy quietly approached her old house, she couldn't help noticing the changes in her town. Night had fallen and she could still hear the sounds of laughing children, saw older couples enjoying the cool night from porch swings, while the streets were alive with people. "A town without the Hellmouth," she mused, shaking her head as she stopped in front of her house, ablaze with lights - save her old bedroom.

Sighing, she quickly straightened the long, black leather duster that she had traded for her sweatshirt. With it buttoned down to her waist and flaring around her hips to her knees, she felt far more hidden from the world - a good thing in Sunnydale, she thought, as she adjusted the scarf that hid her face and hair from the world and tucked the ends within the duster.

Then, noticing the curious stares that she was drawing from the neighbors, Buffy quickly moved on down the street before doubling back under the cover of shadows. Soon, she was once more beside her house, moving from window to window until she finally stopped and crouched outside an open one that looked into the living room. What she saw was enough for a lump to form in her throat as tears burned her eyes.

"Mom," she whispered, easily recognizing the slightly stooped, grandmotherly woman that looked to be in her late sixties. She was the most beautiful person that Buffy had ever seen, with white hair speckled with blonde, slim and full of beautiful wrinkles - but her smile was what she recognized the most, growing wide as another person stepped into the room and stood beside her as she paged through what looked like a TV Guide. Smiling, Buffy turned and took in the older man who stood beside her. "Giles," she pegged quietly and fondly as the balding man wrapped an arm around her mom's shoulder, glasses perched on the tip of his nose. Shaking her head, Buffy casually glanced around the rest of the room, mildly surprised to see all of the pictures of her growing up gone and replaced with what looked to be pictures of her Mom and Giles and some dark-haired guy, in various stages of life.

"Oh Rupert," Buffy heard her mom say as she settled into an armchair, "must you really keep complaining about joining me to watch this program? The artist was showcased in the gallery just a few months ago!" she admonished, causing Buffy to grin impishly.

Frowning, Giles looked down at this wife over the rim of his glasses. "Well, you did view the history documentary with me the other night," he conceded stiffly, to Buffy's great amusement. It took everything in her to keep from jumping from her hiding place and running inside to hug them both and never let go. She had been dreaming about this moment for the past twenty-five years... well, not about spying on her family from outside their windows, but about the chance to see everyone again. She had missed them all so much that in the end she tried to never think about what her sacred duty had taken away from her. All in vain, of course, for they always haunted her every thought.

Suddenly there was movement out in the hallway and Buffy tensed as she watched yet another person enter the room, this time a stranger. The guy looked about her age, and was tall - standing a good head taller than her with straight dark-brown hair cut stylishly short with a small pair of wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. "I'm going to the Bronze with Alex and Will," he announced, sliding his arms into a light, black leather jacket.

Smiling at the familiar club name, Buffy watched as the guy bent down to kiss her mom and wave at Giles, unable to stop the small flare of jealousy at the stranger. Even if the guy was kind of cute, it did nothing to drive away the big question in her mind: who was he and what was he doing in her house and kissing her mom?

"Be careful, Riley," Joyce called out as the doorbell rang and the guy disappeared into the hallway, the familiar name causing Buffy to freeze, her jaw hanging slack with shock.

"I will, Mom!" his voice echoed back.

"Mom? Riley?" she squeaked quietly as her eyes turned instinctively towards the array of photographs that dotted the familiar room. Idly, she realized that Riley was the dark-haired guy smiling brightly from each of the photographs in between her Mom and Giles. "They got married and had a kid," she realized, slowly stumbling back away from the window, tripping over bushes and landing on her rump on the dewy ground.

Her mind reeled from the thought as Buffy slowly climbed to her feet, idly brushing herself off. Realistically, she knew that things were bound to change during the past twenty-five years, but she had never imagined in her wildest dreams that they would change this much. For the longest time, Buffy had locked all emotions within herself - love, anger, loneliness, hatred - everything was carefully locked away in her heart, allowing her to become the perfect slayer - a machine. With disgust, Buffy realized that her iron control had crumbled thanks to Spike's unexpected visit.

Well, not anymore. She was here to do a job, plain and simple, and once it was done she had to move on. She couldn't afford to allow her feelings to emerge and rule her once again. If they did, then Buffy knew that she'd never be able to leave a second time.

As the front door slammed around the corner, Buffy finally woke from her reverie. Curious, she sidled up to the house and carefully gazed around the corner, her eyes locking on Riley... her half brother. She had a brother. For the first time in her life, she had a brother.

"So, can we get moving already?" a girl's voice impatiently demanded, drifting to Buffy as she inched out further, watching as a beautiful girl with long, straight black hair with red highlights tugged on Riley's arm. "Will and I have been Bronze-ready all night!" she complained in a soft whine.

"Alex, don't be so impatient," a guy's voice admonished gently as a tall and lanky red-head joined the other two on the porch steps, his hair spiked wildly in all directions.

"Sorry," Riley shrugged, absently adjusting his glasses in a way that just screamed of Giles. "You know how my mom is..."

"Yeah, well you're not the one with a cop for a Dad," Alex broke in as she skipped down a step, rolling her eyes dramatically.

"Hey, Uncle Xander is cool, and you know it!" Will quickly defended, almost causing Buffy to stumble once again as her eyes locked on the other two kids.

"Xander?" she whispered as she studied the dark-haired girl, taking in her tall, slim form and dark features. "Oh my God, she's Xander and Anya's daughter!" Buffy whispered silently, not knowing whether to laugh or cry as she watched the guys join her and start down the street. Then, as the two guys laughed and rolled their eyes at their friend's antics, Buffy's eyes swung to the remaining guy. "Will... Willow and Oz?" she whispered, instantly seeing the similarities to her friends - even in his more quiet nature in comparison to the loud Alex. Shaking her head, Buffy slowly backed up until she was pressed against the house, hidden in shadows.

The Scooby Gang with kids? The next generation? It was almost too much to absorb, Buffy realized as she darted into the street in the opposite direction the others had taken. She knew where they were going and everything seemed under control for now - except for herself. She couldn't lose control now - not with so much on the line. Not now.

Someone else smiled from the shadows as the three friends slipped past, oblivious to the danger that night brought once more. "Hmmm..." the person hummed contentedly, slowly drifting away. "So many new dolls to play with..."

As she slowly walked through the shadowy graveyard, her feet crunching quietly over soft pine needles, Buffy couldn't help but notice the irony in her surroundings. While the rest of the world seemed to be a strange, new place, the one that hadn't changed throughout the years - and never would - was the cemetery. Her old playground. Sighing, Buffy slowed and lowered herself onto a tall tombstone, rubbing her forehead wearily. It was so hard being here - she no longer belonged. After all, she was dead.

Groaning, Buffy scrubbed at her skin even more fiercely, willing away the images from her past as she turned her head - and froze as her eyes settled upon a familiar name. Physically cringing away from the sight, Buffy stared at Riley's name, etched in stone for all eternity, before slowly sliding to her feet and moving forward. She didn't even feel the tears on her face as she knelt and traced a finger over his name. She had truly cared for him - but she couldn't save him - had failed him. Closing her eyes tightly, Buffy turned away, her head hung, and then lifted it - only to be met with her own name, carved in a similar stone beside his. Surprised, Buffy straightened and stepped back, admiring both headstones with a sense of morbid curiosity.

Buffy Ann Summers
January 17th, 1981
October 15th, 2003
We Will Live Each Day As The Gift
She So Selflessly Gave To The World

Nodding slowly, Buffy realized once more why she was there, back in the town of so many memories, as her tears dried on her face and as the coldness invaded her once again. Buffy Summers was dead - died twenty-five years ago - but the slayer lived on. And this time, the slayer wouldn't fail.

As the doorbell rang throughout the house, Giles quickly hurried to his feet and shuffled from the living room. "I'll get it!" he called back, praising whoever it was from saving him from the mindless numbing of the art program that was quickly putting him to sleep.

"Well, who on Earth could it be at this hour?" he heard his wife mutter from the other room as he stepped into the hall, the bell ringing persistently once more.

"I'm coming!" Giles hollered, wondering at the urgency of the visitor as he twisted the knob, only to be jostled to the side as someone pushed past him into the house. "Why-" he began angrily as his eyes settled on the man, only to have his words die in his throat as he reached a shaky hand up to adjust his glasses. "Angel," he acknowledged, eyeing the vampire, looking as though not a day had passed in his dark clothing and long leather jacket. "It's been-"

"Call the others," Angel interrupted quickly, pushing the door shut even as he eyed the bright house - it hadn't really changed in the time that he had been gone, he noticed. With shadowed eyes, he realized once more that he hadn't been back since... since the funeral.

"What?" Giles began as Joyce stepped slowly into the hallway, her eyes locked on the vampire.

Ignoring her, Angel reached over and snatched the portable phone from a hall table and thrust it into Giles' hands. "Call them," he ordered and then, glancing apologetically at Joyce, he quickly turned his eyes to the quiet night hidden behind a flimsy layer of glass. "I think that trouble is heading this way."