Time Out

By Penmom

Author's Notes: (1) This will be quick given my schedule! ENJOY.

Boston - 2010

He'd tried to stay away. He really had. Honest to God, in case he was listening. But now he couldn't. He'd had time since the big bang in Sunnydale to think about things, to think about her. Too much damn time. He thought he'd just about had it licked – this obsession with Buffy.

No, No, No, he thought to himself. You are not some psycho starker. He loved her – always had - with all his heart and his soul. Loved her enough to stay away.

But now, he was going to her. As soon as Angel had called him, there had been no question. Thank God for bloody cell phones. There had been a time not too long ago when Angel would have had to summon him through some sort of magical means and lets' face it – not so much with the reliability.

Instead, he had heard mere minutes after Angel had spoken with Willow. Angel was sending a plane. He'd be there by morning.

London - 2010

The damp gray mist that was London seemed to settle over everything in sight. Being inside wasn't much better. You felt cold even under layers of blankets. Still, maybe it was easier to die on a day like this. You could sort of just fade away into the fog. Yeah, she thought. A bright, sunny California day wouldn't help matters. It would just remind you of what you were going to be missing. The people that came to your funeral would be sitting there counting the minutes until they could get back outside and enjoy the day. Maybe take a ride with the top down.

A London funeral would definitely be more in keeping with the missing the dearly departed milieu. Everybody would go home and bundle up, feeling a little dead-like themselves. Not that she wished anybody ill – no, but it would be nice if everybody could be sad for like a minute or two.

Sad – now there was a concept she'd thought about. It seemed like she'd been sad for awhile. Every loss, every trauma, every apocalypse had been like a little cut on her soul. And now, it was enough. It was too much. Time out for Buffy.

She'd died before after all. She remembered the afternoon when she'd spoken to Spike out in back of the Magic Shop divulging her secret. She remembered saying how safe and warm she'd felt. Her loss had been palatable. Over time her memory of that place had dimmed considerably but now she found herself remembering that feeling, that place, readying herself for what was to come.