Remembrance
Disclaimer: Of course, characters and settings from Buffy the Vampire Slayer are...from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. And therefore not mine. I am only borrowing them from Joss, Fox, ME, and whomever else, and I promise to give them back. Any characters or places appearing not from the show are mine, unless specifically credited otherwise.
Author's Notes: This story focuses exclusively on the core four (Buffy, Xander, Willow, Giles) so some characters will show up very little, others, not at all. Sorry. It also takes place in Season 3, anywhere between 'Amends' and 'The Zeppo'. The time doesn't affect the plot much, actually - I just like the high school seasons best :) As always, reviews are highly coveted (And, to be honest, very inspiring sometimes. There's nothing like knowing people are reading what you're writing to get you writing more. Even if they don't like it.) So, please leave one. Thanks!
Spoilers: Possibly a few through Season 3, but nothing else.
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She was in a hallway. It was night, and the hallway itself was pitch black. Slivers of bright light striped the floor an the walls in even rectangles, clearly outlining doors. Much further down the hall, she could see a bright opening of light, suggesting one of the doors wasn't closed. She hesitated, unsure of what to do. Something about walking into the light in a dark hallway didn't sit too well with her survival instinct, but was there another way out? When she turned, there was a vast expanse of blackness. A few steps in that direction confirmed that there was still a seemingly solid floor, but after a glance over her shoulder, she began to get the impression that she could walk for hours and not move a single foot.
Cautiously, she turned back towards the doors, moving with slow steps towards the nearest one. A moment of groping in the dark led her to a handle, but try as she might, she couldn't get it to open. Moving to the next door, she found a similar result. This was beginning to frustrate her.
It took more doors than she bothered to count before she found one that would open. It swung open easily, pouring light into the hallway and momentarily blinding her. Shielding her eyes, she turned her head, glancing back down the hall. The doors stretched out for what seemed like miles behind her, certainly for much further than she could remember walking.
Oh, she realized. I'm dreaming. Obviously. She paused a moment, and couldn't help a brief sulk.
You would think I'd be able to come up with a more original dream than 'endless doors in a hallway.'
Somewhat annoyed, she reached towards the open doorway, groping for the handle so she could pull it shut again. The light was beginning to hurt her eyes. A moment later she discovered, with no small amount of dismay, that apparently not only did she open the door, but she had banished it from existence entirely. A sweep of her hand over the doorframe confirmed this; there was no door and there were no hinges. There was nothing.
She clucked her tongue in annoyance. This dream was getting worse and worse. But it's my dream, she reasoned. Shouldn't I be able to control it, now that I know I'm dreaming?
This seemed like a logical plan. She stared hard at the frame, willing a door to appear in it again. Nothing happened, other than the growing ache just behind her eyes. She signed and rubbed a temple.
Maybe I should start smaller.
Now she stepped away from the doorway, looking, instead, very seriously at her hand. Sunglasses. I want some sunglasses.
None appeared. She barely resisted the urge to stomp her foot. What was the point of knowing you were dreaming if you couldn't do whatever you wanted? She leaned back against the wall, exhaling heavily. Staring at the light for so long has caused spots to dance in front of her eyes, and she closed them wearily.
When she opened them, the spots were gone.
Of course, so was the hallway.
Startled, she turned, taking in her new surroundings.
She was on a reasonably average street, in a town that looked like it could have been Sunnydale. In fact, she probably would have assumed it was Sunnydale, if the ground weren't covered in snow. Snow didn't happen in California.
Not often, anyway.
About a block away, a large building broke up the neat rows of houses, and she started towards it. It didn't take a lot of investigation to realize the building was a school; a shrill bell pierced the air, and teenagers began to pour loudly out the door a moment later.
She turned onto the front walkway, passing a sign that read 'Oakland High'. At first, she was very careful to step out of the way of anyone who looked like they were about to run into her, but when a boy she didn't notice in time ran right through her, she gave up. When she found herself unable to enter the building, even if she tried to slip in while someone else was holding the door open, she settled herself on a nearby bench.
Nothing else is going my way in this dream, why should this?
Shaking her head ruefully, she settled on watching the stream of students. Gradually the rush slowed, and as fewer and fewer began to exit the building and head off, she began paying more and more attention, though she couldn't figure out why.
Finally, a pair of girls walked past, and for no reason she could put her finger on, Buffy jumped to her feet and began to follow them.
"Well, how do you know?" The girl on the left asked. She could only catch glimpses of her face from the angle she was at, so she settled for staring at the back of the girl's head, which was currently covered in a red knitted hat.
"Because he said to me, 'I like her,' is how I know. Don't be so negative!" She couldn't see the hat girl's companion roll her eyes, but she was absolutely positive she did.
"I don't think he means it."
The girls strolled along, and she followed, only half listening to the one assure the other that no, really, he did like her, and she was sure Amanda (whoever that was) had been trying to piss her off when she had said he had been all over her.
I'm sure this would be very interesting, she groused to herself, If I knew a single one of these people.
Letting her eyes wander, she noticed a car about two blocks back, driving very slowly. She frowned, set on guard for a reason she couldn't place. It wasn't until she accidentally walked through one of the girls before she had realized they had stopped at a corner. She stopped herself, and turned, glancing at their faces only a moment before studying the car between their heads.
"Anyway, I'll call you." The girls resumed walking, red hat continuing along the street in the same direction, while her friend rounded the corner, turned left, and went her own way. She stood very still, right where she had stopped, and kept an eye on the car. It rolled to the intersection and paused; through the window, she could see a man who looked to be about in her 40s. He looked down at something beside him, and then back up.
The car turned left.
So did she.
It did not roll slowly along the street now, but sped up, instead, until it passed the girl. Then it pulled over quickly, and the man got out, putting himself directly in the girl's path.
She ran from the corner, towards the girl, but she didn't make it far before her foot slipped on some ice, and she tripped. The ground rushed up at her.
Buffy Summers awoke with a start and stared at the ceiling.
Weird, she decided, rubbing an eye before sighing, pushing back the comforter, and standing up.
