Tomorrow
Tomorrow, as they say
Another working day and another chore
Tomorrow
An awful price to pay
I gave up yesterday
But they still want more
- Tomorrow, Bugsy Malone
Tomorrow is always a day away. It's rather depressing, if you think about it.
Tomorrow, I'll say, "I'm fine," and I won't add,"that's what you want me to say, right?"
Tomorrow, I'll go to work and help people, and I won't ask who's supposed to help me.
Tomorrow, I'll be the perfect sister, and Dawnie won't worry about me anymore.
Tomorrow, I'll be a caring friend, and they'll know I don't blame them for the way I am.
Tomorrow, I'll go dancing, and I'll flirt and laugh and won't think about him.
Tomorrow, I won't cry, even if I want to.
Tomorrow, I'll be happy.
Tomorrow will be just like today.
But maybe tomorrow, it won't all be an act.
Sighing, Buffy closed the diary. Tara had suggested she start keeping it after The Incident - the one she didn't talk about, ever, to anyone - and although it was effective in making her feel something, that something was almost always hopelessness and depression.
Glancing at the clock, which read 5:45, she rolled out of bed and walked into the shower. As she stood under the warm spray, she thought of what she needed to do that day. Make Dawn breakfast, and pack her lunch, get them both to school on time. Work as a counselor until three, finish any paperwork she had, go home, probably save the world, make dinner, patrol, go to night class. Now that she had a proper job, she was earning enough to enroll in the local community college as well as keep the house. For a while there, she'd thought they'd have to sell it.
She dried off and got dressed in her "professional" clothes - a tight cream miniskirt, a matching cream blazer that was ultra fitted and ultra cropped with three-quarter length sleeves, shiny black pumps and silky violet camisole. Top it off with her favorite cross, the plain silver one Giles gave her, and on to hair and make up.
She blow dried her hair, which had grown out since she got it cut off last year, and pulled it up into a French twist, leaving a few tendrils hanging around her face. She kept her make up light, just mascara and glossy pink lipstick. And, of course, just enough foundation to hide the tired bags under her eyes that were her constant accessories these days.
Holding her shoes in one hand, she quietly slipped downstairs, doing her best not to wake anyone. She put the student files she'd been looking at yesterday in her bag and made Dawns lunch. Buffy then started frying sausage and bacon, and before long Dawn wandered into the kitchen. "That smells good," she remarked.
"Go get dressed," Buffy commanded, "It'll be ready by the time you get back."
Dawn grinned. "You sound like mom. It's nice. And a little weird."
Buffy narrowed her eyes. "Go get dressed or I'll throw out your breakfast."
"And there she is," Dawn replied. In a quieter voice she added, "I'm glad you're better. You are, aren't you? You're happy?"
"Yeah," her heart breaking a bit at the lie, she murmured, "I'm happy."
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Teenagers were frustrating. Buffy knew this. Hell, for the past year she'd been raising a fifteen year old almost single handedly. But there were days when her job made her want to scream. Half the kids who came to see her just wanted a to get out of class, the other half said they wanted to talk to her but wouldn't tell her anything, and the other half were only there because a teacher sent them. And that made three halves. Whatever. There was a reason she was a guidance counselor, not a math teacher.
She was in the middle of attempting to get a particularly closed off student to talk to her when the end of the day bell rung and the aforementioned student bolted from the room. "Come back next week!" Buffy called to her retreating back.
Groaning, she dropped her head to her hands, rubbing her temples. "Rough day?" Dawn joked as she strolled into the room.
"I work with high schoolers. Every day's a rough one. What's up?"
"So, I was thinking..."
"Never a good thing."
Dawn glared. "Older sister here, Dawnie. I had to. Continue informing me of your thinky thoughts."
"I was hoping I could come with you to the Bronze tonight? Since Willow's coming home today?"
Buffy froze. Willow had spent the summer in England with some coven, learning to control her magic. She and Giles were getting back today, and Buffy had completely forgotten.
God, I'm a horrible friend.
"Buffy?"
"Um... I'm not sure if we're going tonight. Willow will probably be pretty jet lagged, and I have class."
"Oh, okay," Dawn looked disappointed.
"But we're all having dinner tonight, and we can go to the Bronze sometime this weekend. You can definitely come, little bit."
This time they both froze. "I didn't - I mean... It just came out. I'm sorry."
Dawn gave a shaky smile. "It's okay. I know you miss him too."
Buffy nodded haltingly.
"I still can't believe he just vanished like that."
"Me neither." Lie.
"I know he left the crypt with Clem, but... Do you think he's okay?"
"I'm sure he's fine. He wouldn't do anything stupid." Lie.
"Do you have any idea why he would have left?"
"No." Lie.
"I'm sorry. I just miss him, you know?"
"I know. I do too."
Truth.
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Buffy sent Dawn home with instructions to do her homework. She finished a paper that was due and started walking home. As she passed the bakery, she decided to pick up dessert. Over the past few months she'd figured out that the more happy seeming things you do - learn to drive, go shopping, buy a chocolate cake - the more people believed you really were happy.
She finished the walk home and was headed to the kitchen when Dawn called, "Buffy? Can you come in here?"
Buffy frowned. "What's wrong?"
As she entered the living room however, that was made apparent. Dawn, Tara, Giles, Willow and Angel all stood around an extremely irritated Spike. Who was tied to a chair.
"What the hell?"