My sister is a hopeless basket case.
You'd expect her to be all glad we won. Sad we lost Anya and Spike, obviously. I mean, who wouldn't? But it wasn't in vain. We beat the Big Bad, closed the Hellmouth. I say it's Miller Time!
If I was at legal age I'd say that. And I'm sure both of them would appreciate the toast.
Buffy just sat there, though, blank. Nothing. She rubbed at her arms a few times like she was scratching at some mosquito bites or something. But I figured it was just PTS. Post Traumatic Syndrome.
Xander would have called it shell-shock. Then start talking about George C. Scott and that movie Patton. He loves those war films.
A couple times she threw up. Xander and Giles can't drive big vehicles smoothly at all.
Not like Spike.
Anyway, we drove to L.A. and Angel was kind enough to put us up for the night at his old digs at the Hyperion. I thought he and Buffy would be glad to see each other, old loves and all. But they stayed at opposite ends and could barely talk. I think it was hi or maybe even a nod. And they couldn't even look at each other.
I figure they're just waiting for some time alone. Maybe he heard about Spike. It'd be nice to hear Buffy tell him what a hero he was. I'm sure she was proud.
I don't know what's going to happen after this. Giles says Cleveland. But I'm convinced the only demon there is Drew Carey.
Willow's heading down south with Kennedy. They'd better be good.
Xander's thinking about traveling abroad.
Giles…well, you know.
As for me and Buffy, after she snaps back to life again, I don't know. But I can't wait. No more Hellmouths. No more demons. Nothing but Slayers to roundup and train. The adventures are just beginning. But for my sister, she can finally rest.
She's earned it.