DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything to do with Buffy the Vampire Slayer - it
all belongs to Joss Whedon.
Now, I know that Cordy's in a coma at this point etc, but I liked the idea of having her in this fic. The Angel gang's kinda like they were in season 3 of Angel. Again, thanks for the reviews! (my friends are getting sick of me because I'm overly happy all the time now). I will keep writing and posting, please keep reading!
Chapter 3
Far away from San Francisco, Anya and Spike had hitched a ride on a donkey cart that was randomly driving away from New Mexico. They had mutually decided that their best shot would be going to LA and trying to find the gang or, worst case scenario, asking Angel or Cordy where they were.
In the mean time, the cart 'driver' was trying to make small talk.
'So, uh, where are you two from?'
They glanced at each other and almost burst into giggles. 'You want the truth or do you want what is closest to it?' Spike remarked.
The cart driver looked at them with a puzzled face. 'Your call.'
They caught each other's eyes, and both decided to take the safe way out. 'I'm from London,' Spike said.
'And I'm from Scandinavia,' Anya added.
'Huh. . .' commented the cart driver. 'So what brings you to this hellhole?'
They both knew he had meant 'hellhole' as in a dreary place, but the accidental pun was too funny to resist. They both burst out laughing without even thinking.
'Wha. . .what's so funny?' He said staring at them. In a fit of hysterics, Spike just managed to answer: 'Private joke.'
Surprisingly enough, the cart driver avoided making small talk after that.
**********
Meanwhile in LA, Cordy and Angel were talking for the millionth time about the final fight and beating the ultimate evil. Cordy had been through a lot of mini evils, and of course, she'd never enjoyed them, but somehow Angel could tell there was a small part of her that wished she had been there to fight. However, Angel kept pointing out to her that he hadn't been there either; all he knew was what Buffy had told him.
This time, Cordy was philosophising again about the entire situation. 'Gee, I can't believe Spike died. And so nobly, to save the entire world.and to think, he was once one of them and then he. . .' Cordy saw Angel's look of extreme resentment, remembering how he'd been 'rejected' by Buffy because of Spike. At least he thought so, nobody else did.
'Oh, for crying out loud, Angel, for the hundredth time, she did not turn you away because of him! G-d, I can't believe you're jealous of a dead guy. . .' He stared at her sarcastically. 'OK, a dead guy who doesn't walk on Earth.'
'Well, as pathetic as it might sound Cordelia, I am. Because when he died, a part of her died with him. I thought we were meant to be together forever, but she loves him so much, we'll never get another chance. Spike was Buffy's soul mate, not me.'
Cordelia frowned, and realised she had said too much. 'Alright, forget about Spike. But what about Anya? She used to be evil too, and she died fighting for the good. It seems so unfair, technically she and Spike went through the worst process; turning from evil to good, and fighting for good, not letting the temptation of going back to their roots get them. And they're the ones that die. I think that sucks. You understand what I'm saying?' Cordelia sometimes tended to babble to herself, and Angel had gotten used to just zoning out every time she did. Therefore his reply of, 'yeah, of course,' was completely automatic.
'I just wish they had a second chance at life, y'know? Cause, if anybody deserves it, it's them.'
Normally, Angel wouldn't have agreed with this statement, considering it meant bringing Spike back, but again, he just treated it as babbling. 'Absolutely, Cordelia. Absolutely.'
**********
'171.172.173. Wow, who would've guessed.'
While Xander was working, while Kennedy and Willow were out watching a play, and while Dawn was out at the mall with her friend, Buffy was using her free day doing anything pointless she could think of. Now that she'd finished counting the number of spikes on the mini cactus, she was stuck on what she could do next.
She got up and went to make herself a glass of juice.
She thought back on the past seven years. What would she have been doing exactly seven years ago. been in the library with Giles, Willow and Xander. There must've been some evil out there exactly seven years ago - like that demon Moloch that invaded the computer and almost took Willow away. . .or that mother of a girl that was a witch and had switched bodies with her daughter to become a cheerleader again. . .or that invisible girl that had set out to kill Cordelia and all the people close to her. . . Strange enough as it was, Buffy was starting to long for those simple days. What had happened? Somehow, everything had changed. Sometimes, a tiny part of her wished she hadn't destroyed the ultimate evil. But why. . .because each time she'd fought and beaten it, or saved somebody, she had grown closer to her friends. Now, she just felt as if they were all growing further apart.
And now more than ever before, she was wishing that all the people that had ever been in the gang were here. Her, Willow, Xander, Dawn, Giles, Spike, Anya, Tara, Andrew, Oz, Cordelia, Angel, Faith. . .but that was never going to happen. Ever. Because 3 of those people were dead, 4 of them probably didn't really care about the old gang, and 2 were too far away. Before she knew it, Buffy felt tears streaming down her cheeks.
She was alone. More than ever before. Her friends were far away - not just physically, her family were either dead or oblivious to the way she felt, and her true love was. . .
She was sobbing. Why was she so depressed? She had rid the world of evil that year; she didn't have any reason to be upset. She still had her two best friends by her side; there was no reason to feel the way she did.
'Dammit, why didn't they live?!?!' She was infuriated, looking up at the ceiling. 'I died twice, and I fought back both times. WHY DID THEY HAVE TO DIE?! WHY COULDN'T THEY HAVE SURVIVED?! Tell me!!!'
She collapsed to the floor crying. All she wanted was Spike to hold her now, like he had before. All she wanted was a shoulder to cry on from her friends, and reassurance that everything was going to be OK. All she wanted was her family together so that she could for once have a functional one to lean on.
She had been the original slayer. She had been the one with no future. Back then, it seemed like she had so much to live for, she couldn't stand the thought of dying and leaving it all behind.
But now, when she had been given a free ticket to a full life, with a proper job and opportunity to raise a family. . .all she seemed to think was that she wouldn't mind withering away right now.
She needed something to bring her back to life inside. She needed a breath of fresh air. She needed it all back.
Little did she know how close she was to just that.
Now, I know that Cordy's in a coma at this point etc, but I liked the idea of having her in this fic. The Angel gang's kinda like they were in season 3 of Angel. Again, thanks for the reviews! (my friends are getting sick of me because I'm overly happy all the time now). I will keep writing and posting, please keep reading!
Chapter 3
Far away from San Francisco, Anya and Spike had hitched a ride on a donkey cart that was randomly driving away from New Mexico. They had mutually decided that their best shot would be going to LA and trying to find the gang or, worst case scenario, asking Angel or Cordy where they were.
In the mean time, the cart 'driver' was trying to make small talk.
'So, uh, where are you two from?'
They glanced at each other and almost burst into giggles. 'You want the truth or do you want what is closest to it?' Spike remarked.
The cart driver looked at them with a puzzled face. 'Your call.'
They caught each other's eyes, and both decided to take the safe way out. 'I'm from London,' Spike said.
'And I'm from Scandinavia,' Anya added.
'Huh. . .' commented the cart driver. 'So what brings you to this hellhole?'
They both knew he had meant 'hellhole' as in a dreary place, but the accidental pun was too funny to resist. They both burst out laughing without even thinking.
'Wha. . .what's so funny?' He said staring at them. In a fit of hysterics, Spike just managed to answer: 'Private joke.'
Surprisingly enough, the cart driver avoided making small talk after that.
**********
Meanwhile in LA, Cordy and Angel were talking for the millionth time about the final fight and beating the ultimate evil. Cordy had been through a lot of mini evils, and of course, she'd never enjoyed them, but somehow Angel could tell there was a small part of her that wished she had been there to fight. However, Angel kept pointing out to her that he hadn't been there either; all he knew was what Buffy had told him.
This time, Cordy was philosophising again about the entire situation. 'Gee, I can't believe Spike died. And so nobly, to save the entire world.and to think, he was once one of them and then he. . .' Cordy saw Angel's look of extreme resentment, remembering how he'd been 'rejected' by Buffy because of Spike. At least he thought so, nobody else did.
'Oh, for crying out loud, Angel, for the hundredth time, she did not turn you away because of him! G-d, I can't believe you're jealous of a dead guy. . .' He stared at her sarcastically. 'OK, a dead guy who doesn't walk on Earth.'
'Well, as pathetic as it might sound Cordelia, I am. Because when he died, a part of her died with him. I thought we were meant to be together forever, but she loves him so much, we'll never get another chance. Spike was Buffy's soul mate, not me.'
Cordelia frowned, and realised she had said too much. 'Alright, forget about Spike. But what about Anya? She used to be evil too, and she died fighting for the good. It seems so unfair, technically she and Spike went through the worst process; turning from evil to good, and fighting for good, not letting the temptation of going back to their roots get them. And they're the ones that die. I think that sucks. You understand what I'm saying?' Cordelia sometimes tended to babble to herself, and Angel had gotten used to just zoning out every time she did. Therefore his reply of, 'yeah, of course,' was completely automatic.
'I just wish they had a second chance at life, y'know? Cause, if anybody deserves it, it's them.'
Normally, Angel wouldn't have agreed with this statement, considering it meant bringing Spike back, but again, he just treated it as babbling. 'Absolutely, Cordelia. Absolutely.'
**********
'171.172.173. Wow, who would've guessed.'
While Xander was working, while Kennedy and Willow were out watching a play, and while Dawn was out at the mall with her friend, Buffy was using her free day doing anything pointless she could think of. Now that she'd finished counting the number of spikes on the mini cactus, she was stuck on what she could do next.
She got up and went to make herself a glass of juice.
She thought back on the past seven years. What would she have been doing exactly seven years ago. been in the library with Giles, Willow and Xander. There must've been some evil out there exactly seven years ago - like that demon Moloch that invaded the computer and almost took Willow away. . .or that mother of a girl that was a witch and had switched bodies with her daughter to become a cheerleader again. . .or that invisible girl that had set out to kill Cordelia and all the people close to her. . . Strange enough as it was, Buffy was starting to long for those simple days. What had happened? Somehow, everything had changed. Sometimes, a tiny part of her wished she hadn't destroyed the ultimate evil. But why. . .because each time she'd fought and beaten it, or saved somebody, she had grown closer to her friends. Now, she just felt as if they were all growing further apart.
And now more than ever before, she was wishing that all the people that had ever been in the gang were here. Her, Willow, Xander, Dawn, Giles, Spike, Anya, Tara, Andrew, Oz, Cordelia, Angel, Faith. . .but that was never going to happen. Ever. Because 3 of those people were dead, 4 of them probably didn't really care about the old gang, and 2 were too far away. Before she knew it, Buffy felt tears streaming down her cheeks.
She was alone. More than ever before. Her friends were far away - not just physically, her family were either dead or oblivious to the way she felt, and her true love was. . .
She was sobbing. Why was she so depressed? She had rid the world of evil that year; she didn't have any reason to be upset. She still had her two best friends by her side; there was no reason to feel the way she did.
'Dammit, why didn't they live?!?!' She was infuriated, looking up at the ceiling. 'I died twice, and I fought back both times. WHY DID THEY HAVE TO DIE?! WHY COULDN'T THEY HAVE SURVIVED?! Tell me!!!'
She collapsed to the floor crying. All she wanted was Spike to hold her now, like he had before. All she wanted was a shoulder to cry on from her friends, and reassurance that everything was going to be OK. All she wanted was her family together so that she could for once have a functional one to lean on.
She had been the original slayer. She had been the one with no future. Back then, it seemed like she had so much to live for, she couldn't stand the thought of dying and leaving it all behind.
But now, when she had been given a free ticket to a full life, with a proper job and opportunity to raise a family. . .all she seemed to think was that she wouldn't mind withering away right now.
She needed something to bring her back to life inside. She needed a breath of fresh air. She needed it all back.
Little did she know how close she was to just that.