action & voice ✪ all the time in the world just ran out
[ occasionally, buffy summers is known to have dreams. not just your garden-variety freudian goldmine kind of dreams with nakedness and check-out lines but ones that are portentous and raw. warning dreams. in this dream, her toes are digging into a sandy beach and there are black sails on the horizon -- somehow, this seems important. black sails. and although she can feel his arms around her, she knows it won't last. it never does, in dreams like this. so there's something she has to tell him before she loses him like she's losing the receding vision of those sails.
jack. she says the name in her sleep. i think i lov--. ]
Jack? [ she wakes up. disquieted by something although she can't yet put her finger on it. the wide, cozy couch is empty but for her. buffy is tangled up in a sleeping bag; she had crawled into the couch-gone-bed last night after patrolling with the pirate. after looking for dawn. dawn.
the reminder of her sister's kidnapping is sobering and the slayer sits up, only to find her hair tangled in a fine gold chain. the general's locket. and what had started as a slight unease kicks into high alert. jack would never purposefully leave the locket behind. had he been kidnapped, too? buffy begins to search the house. the kitchen, the bedroom -- oh. the hammock's gone. his ancienty, piratical stuff. she's seen this before. she's lived this before with another captain.
buffy walks back to the couch in a waking dream that's worse than the one she had whilst asleep. she fastens the locket once again around her neck and she cries for a very long time; it's better to get it out while she's still alone. ]
[ when she is back in the village, her first stop is to visit the only other person from jack's home. he deserves to know first, before she tells the village at large. there are three ominous knocks at norrington's door. buffy has obviously been crying but now seems determined to steel herself against the announcement. her eyes are red-rimmed but she is determined. ]
[ so much for all the time in the world, jack.
much, much later in the day -- mid-evening, really. she props the journal open on the table in front of her and clears her throat. this will not be easy. practice was supposed to make perfect, right? and how many of these announcements has she made? too many. but buffy summers wouldn't really have it any other way. her shoulders were built for shouldering burdens. but jack, she's sure, would be disappointed to see her take such business-like trepidation to this task. too bad the pirate's not here to register that disappointment. hah. ]
...Oh, God. [ her voice is strained. it should sound remarkably calm for those who are only acquaintances of the slayer. close friends, however, can hear that tell-tale sound of buffy breaking to pieces. ] People who're friends with Captain Jack Sparrow? Enemies too, even. I guess you all have a right to know. This is an equal opportunity kind of announcement. He's -- uhm, Jack's been sent home. This morning.
[ should she leave it at that? no -- after a few minutes: ] If he stole something from any of you and you're looking to get it back? Let me know. If I can find it, I'll make sure it gets home.
[ and the feed goes dead. she feels guilty that she didn't say something...nicer. more loving. but the last thing she wants is to start crying again. not in public. ]
jack. she says the name in her sleep. i think i lov--. ]
Jack? [ she wakes up. disquieted by something although she can't yet put her finger on it. the wide, cozy couch is empty but for her. buffy is tangled up in a sleeping bag; she had crawled into the couch-gone-bed last night after patrolling with the pirate. after looking for dawn. dawn.
the reminder of her sister's kidnapping is sobering and the slayer sits up, only to find her hair tangled in a fine gold chain. the general's locket. and what had started as a slight unease kicks into high alert. jack would never purposefully leave the locket behind. had he been kidnapped, too? buffy begins to search the house. the kitchen, the bedroom -- oh. the hammock's gone. his ancienty, piratical stuff. she's seen this before. she's lived this before with another captain.
buffy walks back to the couch in a waking dream that's worse than the one she had whilst asleep. she fastens the locket once again around her neck and she cries for a very long time; it's better to get it out while she's still alone. ]
[ when she is back in the village, her first stop is to visit the only other person from jack's home. he deserves to know first, before she tells the village at large. there are three ominous knocks at norrington's door. buffy has obviously been crying but now seems determined to steel herself against the announcement. her eyes are red-rimmed but she is determined. ]
[ so much for all the time in the world, jack.
much, much later in the day -- mid-evening, really. she props the journal open on the table in front of her and clears her throat. this will not be easy. practice was supposed to make perfect, right? and how many of these announcements has she made? too many. but buffy summers wouldn't really have it any other way. her shoulders were built for shouldering burdens. but jack, she's sure, would be disappointed to see her take such business-like trepidation to this task. too bad the pirate's not here to register that disappointment. hah. ]
...Oh, God. [ her voice is strained. it should sound remarkably calm for those who are only acquaintances of the slayer. close friends, however, can hear that tell-tale sound of buffy breaking to pieces. ] People who're friends with Captain Jack Sparrow? Enemies too, even. I guess you all have a right to know. This is an equal opportunity kind of announcement. He's -- uhm, Jack's been sent home. This morning.
[ should she leave it at that? no -- after a few minutes: ] If he stole something from any of you and you're looking to get it back? Let me know. If I can find it, I'll make sure it gets home.
[ and the feed goes dead. she feels guilty that she didn't say something...nicer. more loving. but the last thing she wants is to start crying again. not in public. ]