Rebel (Open on Sunday prompt)
Wrote this for Open on Sunday, prompt "rebel." Post S9 #10, three little drabbles.
He’d pressed a paper into her hand before he’d gone, and she’d seen a scrawled email address on the page. “Just in case…something…comes up,” he’d murmured, and she’d said nothing. The ‘something’ he wanted wasn’t something she could give him, not yet.
She forces herself to keep the paper hidden away so she won’t be tempted. This is her life, and she needs to pick up the pieces before she can even think of approaching him again.
Until there comes the day when something within her rebels and she wonders, Why do I think I need to do this alone?
~
He rebels against the impulse to open the email immediately. He’s stronger now, ruled by more than just insatiable love for someone who’s rejected him for the last time.
It could be important.
It could be urgent.
He sneers at his own neediness. He knows what it is. It’s Buffy, trying to say things without saying them at all, speaking of what she really wants but reluctant to allow herself that peace. He’s left all that behind, and if he can’t resist a single email-
And he’s clicking on it even as he shuts out silly posturing in his mind.
~
She goes out to patrol the moment the sun sets the next day.
She can’t stop looking to the sky, can’t stop squinting at every passing plane and bird and unexpected light. It’s only been a day, she reminds herself. Who knows where he is? Or if he’ll even-
She shuts her eyes, cuts off that line of thought with grim determination, and rebels against her own dim expectations. It’s Spike. He’ll be back.
There’s an odd kind of scuffing sound, boots on dirt, in front of her, and she opens her eyes again.
It’s Spike.
“I’m back,” he says.
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He’d pressed a paper into her hand before he’d gone, and she’d seen a scrawled email address on the page. “Just in case…something…comes up,” he’d murmured, and she’d said nothing. The ‘something’ he wanted wasn’t something she could give him, not yet.
She forces herself to keep the paper hidden away so she won’t be tempted. This is her life, and she needs to pick up the pieces before she can even think of approaching him again.
Until there comes the day when something within her rebels and she wonders, Why do I think I need to do this alone?
~
He rebels against the impulse to open the email immediately. He’s stronger now, ruled by more than just insatiable love for someone who’s rejected him for the last time.
It could be important.
It could be urgent.
He sneers at his own neediness. He knows what it is. It’s Buffy, trying to say things without saying them at all, speaking of what she really wants but reluctant to allow herself that peace. He’s left all that behind, and if he can’t resist a single email-
And he’s clicking on it even as he shuts out silly posturing in his mind.
~
She goes out to patrol the moment the sun sets the next day.
She can’t stop looking to the sky, can’t stop squinting at every passing plane and bird and unexpected light. It’s only been a day, she reminds herself. Who knows where he is? Or if he’ll even-
She shuts her eyes, cuts off that line of thought with grim determination, and rebels against her own dim expectations. It’s Spike. He’ll be back.
There’s an odd kind of scuffing sound, boots on dirt, in front of her, and she opens her eyes again.
It’s Spike.
“I’m back,” he says.
comments. Comment at Dreamwidth or right here.