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Snapshots 05
by Aadler
Copyright January 2024
Disclaimer: Characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel: the Series are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kuzui Enterprises, Sandollar Television, the WB, and UPN.
Warning: each drabble below is based on the story listed at the drabble’s beginning. Basically, then, all intended for people who already read the respective story and want to see more. You CAN try to read them without knowing the linked story, but probably won’t get full value.
Back in Sunnydale, Giles is harried, distracted, impatient. The ‘Scoobies’ (ludicrous name) believe it’s because he misses Buffy — worries — as much as they do. While not mistaken, they have no idea how incomplete is their understanding.
He will, of course, never enlighten them.
When he makes his (lack of) progress report to Joyce Summers, her response angers him. Shouting at her might be briefly satisfying … but, she’s done nothing to deserve that, so he suppresses, conceals it.
Alone in his flat, he checks the healing of the wounds from the demon’s spines.
Winces. Tells himself the ache will fade.
Eventually.
Back at the bar, Merl skips the Dr Pepper and starts chugging appletinis. Screw it, ain’t like he’s gotta worry ’bout hangovers.
He snarls to himself, remembering the scene at the theater … friggin’ nightmare, the whole damn business. Heroes ’n’ monsters are all the same, really: too damn serious, an’ way too damn bloodthirsty. Merl’d rather hang back an’ let the dumbasses kill each other, while he focuses on survival ’n’ maybe a little safe profit.
So if the Princess does steer a little business his way … yeah, he’ll take it.
But he’s damned if he’ll be nice about it.
xliii – Just Can’t Kill the BeastHomecoming from L.A. brings … issues, but small ones.
Joyce frowns at the contents of the kitchen fridge. She was positive she’d left half a carton of orange juice there, but the space is empty.
Dawn finds her shampoo seriously depleted. She’d like to blame Buffy, but knows her sister would never settle for stuff as ordinary as what Dawn likes.
Buffy doesn’t consciously notice anything amiss in her room, but a part of her is aware that a few things aren’t quite as she left them, triggering an unfocused background uneasiness.
Mister Gordo could enlighten her … but he says nothing.
xliv – the Other Night I Dreamt of KnivesThe scene isn’t difficult to read. Dozens of dead Cuan-atl, most shredded by claymores, the remainder from sharp trauma. (Shattered skull on one, though.) The abandoned greatsword, the shivered polearm, bootprints disappearing at the same point as the clawed footprints of the surviving demons …
Robson sighs. “They took her.”
“Emily?” Pilar asks. “The dropout?”
“Jutta killed all but a few. But when Emily lost her weapon —” Robson points to the broken polearm. “— and was carried off, Jutta followed. Chasing them.”
Pilar nods. “Jutta would do that.”
And they both know: Jutta would have made the Cuan-atl pay, and pay big.
The future she saw is fading.
Katie’s sympathetic, but doesn’t truly understand. She only saw one side of ‘Cale’; Ariel saw … all the sides, all the possibilities he carried. Lost now, because Ariel wasn’t persuasive enough, good enough. She skated right to the edge of the perfect moment, and … missed it.
He could have changed so many things. Given Andrew a different, vital focus. Personified a bridge between disciplined effectiveness (Giles) and chaotic effectiveness (Xander).
He could have been a champion.
Gone, lost, but Ariel can still see those echoes of could-have-been.
Now, though, even the echoes fade.
This ‘Zahra’ is either a sword of Allah, or of Shaitan. Her obscene defiance of women’s proper roles argues for the latter; her service in battle, for the former.
Perhaps. The more favorable argument is … not conclusive.
Thus far, her combats have been against other groups, clans, tribes. Rivals, sometimes even enemies, but still … men. Faithful believers, even if their loyalties required redirection. And the ease with which she humbled those men is itself an offense against the true faith.
Tonight, this unproven sword is to be directed against invaders, infidels … Americans. Tonight, then, will be the crucial test.
Inshallah.
It’s the way Lauren looks at him.
She did that the first time, in the hospital, before the Slayer saved them all. He knows, because he saw the exact same expression when they met at their new school, post-Sunnydale.
Like she sees something special in him. Like he’s something special.
He knows special; ‘special’ came out of nowhere and tore death from his throat. He’ll never forget that, it’s why they’re both still alive, why they’re all alive.
He’ll do whatever he has to, to live up to what he sees in Lauren’s eyes.
She’s the reason for everything.
xlviii – Listen to the MockingbirdHorrid man.
He pressed me awfully, wrung me to the marrow. I hate him, despise him, fear him. Fear has become an unwelcome stranger; its return, wriggling inside me, is unfamiliar, unsettling, not to be countenanced. Excites me in a way I does not like.
Dreadful, tedious, nasty man.
They whisper to me, stars and night-blooms and the buzzing servitors of honey, but no whispers are of him. I read the pages of the falling leaves, vexed to find he appears on none of them.
… If I can’t see him, how can I make certain he won’t forget me?
On the bus, she dreams.
Passion. Betrayal. Anguish. Endless, unrelenting grief.
He fought with her, fought for her, insulted her, saved her life, brought her to life. Together, they braved monsters, and survived. And — sometimes, just them, just the two of them — they won.
Together.
Impossible now.
He woke her heart, then broke her heart. She can’t forget either one.
She awakens to find herself alone. (No, not alone, just without him: shape of the new reality.) She dries her tears, and through the bus windows she watches the highway that bears her toward whatever her life is to be.
::]tweedy-gman[:: This indeed comprises a decent narrative. Additionally, I can see how the settings, events, and personalities might be evocative of certain memories.
::]tweedy-gman[:: ??What is this? The ‘tag’ preceding my comments?
::]tweedy-gman[:: I protest this juvenile, sophomoric buffoonery.
::]5by5hottie[:: chill, g-guy, it suits you
::]tweedy-gman[:: This was Xander’s doing, wasn’t it?
::]bluddywm[:: They got you solid, ‘G-man’.
::]keyguy[:: So, we know you’re not big on these silly American fads, but keep hanging around and we might get a better tag for you.
::]tweedy-gman[:: Don’t be preposterous.
…
::]tweedy-gman[:: Except, will there be any further exploration of the character of Arlene …?
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