(no subject)
One.
When Buffy got home, she was exhausted. She'd run herself ragged looking for the boy, and here he was, sitting on the edge of her bed like he owned the place... Well, like he owned the place and was a bit upset about it.
"Where the hell were you? I've literally been looking everywhere for you!" She dropped to her knees in front of him and inspected his face quickly for injuries. He wasn't speaking, but he rarely did and he looked... strange. More determined. Buffy was actually a bit scared. She opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong, but before she knew the difference, he's hauled her onto the bed and crushed their lips together. She could feel that intensity that she recognized in his eyes flow down through his lips and after getting over the initial shock, she relaxed and closed her eyes, managing to return the kiss.
It wasn't until later, after he'd laid her down and most of their clothes were pooled on the furs on the floor that she realized it. He kissed just like his Father.
Two.
"Hey!" Buffy called, her chest heaving from the anger. All of his words had built up inside her, and she wasn't going to take it anymore, but she'd never throw the first punch. Not in a domestic fight. OK, really, she just didn't want to look bad to Faramir when he found out, and of course, he would. She didn't have to, though. The fight was, in large-form, almost over. He was on hos knees, his mouth bleeding, arms scratched, head knocked around so severely. She'd showed no mercy, but she was done. She'd done enough damage. Now, she just needed to knock him out. He was lucid, though, and it should have alerted her, but it didn't.
"You don't deserve this," she growled and wound back for a crescent kick, but felt a strange sensation in her stomach. She paused and looked down. A shiv, his shiv was prodruding from her stomach and it took her a moment to register that it was pain she was feeling, so intense that it tingled outward, and she dropped to her knees, blood pooling in her hands. She looked up. The fucker was smiling.
"You don't deserve him," he growled, pulling the shiv out of her stomach fast, and that hurt more than going in did. She cupped her hands around the gaping, gushing wound and slumped forward, beathing becoming more and more shallow. This was it, her first natural death, and it was misery, all pain and regret.
To her credit, her last word was Faramir's name whispered so quietly the wind caught it and brushed it away before it reached anyone's ears.
Three.
A knock at the door. Who the hell knocked at her door? Beside Jayne when he wanted to show Connor up or Han when Connor wasn't around. Connor never knocked when he came home, but he was dead asleep on his furs on the foor. Poor kid. All of the training was tiring him out.
But, yes. Door.
She opened the door and could have died. Right then and there. Just keeled over.
"Angel..." she whispered, and Connor sat bolt upright.
Four.
A punch. A kick. He's down. A stake through his heart. Lather, rinse, repeat. Going through the motions.
But this shouldn't be happening here. Doyle's half-demon and that was eliminated when he fell here. So how is she staking through hearts and watching the dust dissapear? She couldn't wait for daylight when they'd all dust and dissapear and she would just me a martyr for no cause again. The island could have at least brought her back to full Slayer powers again before bringing these fuckers along. She was getting hurt easier and couldn't throw as much weight.
Finally, she was at the compound.
"John! Shit, John! I need you out here!"
Five
"Buffy!"
The voice broke her from her rigerous train. She looked like hell, she felt like hell, and her training wasn't really a train as much as a huge fucking slump. It felt like every time she kicked out, she strained a new muscle, and she was sure she was running out of muscles to pull. She was almost glad for the distraction.
And then that voice and she froze with an awkward hello. Not becoming of the Slayer.
"I was wrong," he said, and she was sure he'd never said anything like that to her. "I need you. I can change, and if it's for you, I'll do whatever it takes. I love you, Buffy."
A huge smile crossed her face and she was in his arms before the sentence was even finished. She kissed him so deeply and was afraid for a moment they'd fall over, and for once, he wasn't careful with her. He kissed her back, matching all of her passion and she wriggled into his arms, thick with tension.
"I can, too, you know," she said, grinning slightly into the kiss. He laughed that hearty laugh that still made her heart sing.
"No you can't," he said, sweeping the hair from her face. "But I could never expect you to."
She sighed and sank back into his arms. This? This was what heaven felt like, and she knew that first-hand.