![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fpb“What happens to the world, if all the heroes lose?”
(Jack Kirby – Captain America 211)
Images of a night and a day – images that their protagonists will never forget:
Night over a beach in Southern California.
The soft lapping of waves against the shore.
Clear sky; stars so large you might almost touch them. The great ships of heaven, the constellations, sailing across their shining black sea.
A deserted beach under a cliff topped with green brush and blue flowers; and ever and anon the sound of a distant motor.
An open-top car, hidden in the shadow of the cliff (one is not a Slayer for years without acquiring a certain taste for security).
A fire of driftwood. The only sound: flames crackling, hissing, leaping about. Ever-changing patterns of light and shadow.
In the light of the flames, a blanket and a few clothes rolled into pillows. Two fresh-faced young women, lying in each other’s arms.
“…Buffy?”
“Yes, Willow. Yes…”
A big, luminous three-quarter blue moon surrounded by stars.
………………………………………………………………………..
“They could be anywhere!”
“Dawn, they rang me on Buffy’s cell phone. There is no reason to be afraid. They just said that they were delayed on the road after visiting your father, and they would camp somewhere and come back in the morning. Honestly, I think you’re overreacting.”
“Oh yeah? Well, I think you’re under-reacting, Mr. British Aristocratic Calm!”
“Dawn…”
“Look, my sister goes for a walk. She disappears. She’s not here at lunch. She doesn’t ring or tell us anything until a call arrives in the small hours of the morning…”
“Ten in the evening, actually.”
“…and claims they’ve been to see Dad – and Buffy hates Dad, she would never go see him – and they were delayed and they’ll be here tomorrow morning…”
“Actually, your father does confirm that they visited him unexpectedly.” Giles does not add what else Mr.Summers told him over the phone; he finds it all too funny.
“But this is the Slayer! You know how many – things – have it in for her! If she suddenly vanishes, you don’t just sit there saying It’ll be all right on the night!”
Giles waits a second, then answers in a calming, level tone: “Yes, Dawn. This is the Slayer. And she has Willow Rosenberg with her. Honestly, if anyone tried it on with the two of them together, I’d worry for him, not for them.”
“Well…” Dawn is unconvinced; but she suspects that she has made a nuisance of herself, and is not too unhappy to be offered an excuse to pipe down.
………………………………………………………………………..
Morning.
The Scoobies are having their last breakfast in Southern California for quite a while. Dawn is sleepy and too tired to be worried; Xander, Anya and Giles are in high good humour, bantering and exchanging good-natured insults. Spike has left for Los Angeles; he has to reach the city before sunrise, so he has made his farewells without waiting for the Slayer whom he loves. He knows they will not meet for a long time to come, and this is as good an excuse as another to avoid an agonizing farewell.
In the light of events, perhaps Spike was wiser than he knew.
Suddenly there is a screech of tyres in the driveway, almost overlain by a shriek of girlish laughter. Four heads turn at once. Neglecting their breakfast, Dawn Summers, Anya Emerson, Xander Harris and Rupert Giles rush into the yard.
Pivoting on thin, muscular arms, Buffy swings her body upwards out of her seat; she flips herself over Willow, and somersaults again over the bonnet, to land on her two feet in front of her extended family, while Willow claps her hands and laughs again. Both look excited, almost flushed. And there is an air about them. Buffy turns and offers Willow her right hand, bowing from the waist as Willow leaves the car, for all the world like a gentleman escorting a lady out of her carriage at the opera. They laugh, look in each other’s eyes, make silly jokes. Their hands flutter over each other as they head to the kitchen – “Where’s breakfast? We’re starving”; and Giles’ right eyebrow makes a slow, unstoppable climb towards his hairline, as he remembers what Mr.Summers had said to him – what he had found funny almost to laugh-out-loud point.
Hello, young lovers, whoever you are,
I hope your troubles are few.
All my good wishes are with you tonight…
Dawn starts formulating questions in her mind abut the previous twenty-four hours; but her first question dies on her tongue, leaving only a confused stutter.
I’ve had a love of my own like yours,
I’ve had a love of my own!
Tears spring in Dawn’s eyes. She gets up, half-runs to her room, and stumbles to her bed.
……………………………………………………………………………………………….
“We leave tomorrow – by private plane. I know it’s rather quick, but at least it won’t give Buffy the opportunity to break any more phones…”
“Wanna bet?”, answers a laughing redhead, still in high spirits; and the blonde with her hand in hers giggles and adds: “Bring on the phones, Giles! Bring on the phones and I shall trash them in their millions!” Giles is happy that she has got over her destructive mood.
……………………………………………………………………………………………….
One person has noticed Dawn’s fumbling run upstairs. Her door creaks open, a man’s figure outlined against the light outside.
“Leave me alone!”
He speaks quietly, ignoring her sobbing anger: “You left early… and you were crying. Tell me what’s the matter.”
“What isn’t? My sister’s a pervert!”
“Your…? Buf-?” Xander had not been expecting this. His words die away.
“C’mon! You’ve seen them together! B-B-Buffy and Willow!”
“That’s the problem…” Xander is suddenly struck by the light. He falls silent again – for a second – while Dawn sobs on.
“You could just tell! You could smell it on them! And they weren’t even trying to disguise… they’d… they’d done it!!”
“I don’t understand, Dawny. You used to love Willow and Tara.”
“I was fourteen then, Xander. I am seventeen now. I didn’t know anything. I just knew that Tara was way cool… and she was! I wasn’t thinking about what they did at night, but Tara was one of the finest persons…” Then, more calmly: “Look, I loved Tara. I’ll always miss her. But it doesn’t have to mean I have to like what she did because she was sexually… messed up!”
She then delivers an accurate and grossly offensive description of some lesbian sex acts, leaving no doubt that she finds them revolting.
“Even if that’s the case” – says Xander, who does not want to argue – “Dawny, it’s your sister, it’s her life. It’s not up to me or you…”
“It’s my life all right! Have you forgotten? Buffy isn’t just my sister, she is me. I was made out of her… her mind, her memories. I cannot just forget what she is doing to her body…” This is followed by a few more sordid details of lesbian activity.
“It’s men who fantasize about this sort of thing, Xander. Women who aren’t actually lesbians just hate the thought.” (And Xander cannot even answer, for he is suddenly struck with the memory of a sorcerous episode in which he had done exactly that.) “I don’t like… don’t, don’t, don’t like… to think of anyone messing about with my body like that…”
(Jack Kirby – Captain America 211)
Images of a night and a day – images that their protagonists will never forget:
Night over a beach in Southern California.
The soft lapping of waves against the shore.
Clear sky; stars so large you might almost touch them. The great ships of heaven, the constellations, sailing across their shining black sea.
A deserted beach under a cliff topped with green brush and blue flowers; and ever and anon the sound of a distant motor.
An open-top car, hidden in the shadow of the cliff (one is not a Slayer for years without acquiring a certain taste for security).
A fire of driftwood. The only sound: flames crackling, hissing, leaping about. Ever-changing patterns of light and shadow.
In the light of the flames, a blanket and a few clothes rolled into pillows. Two fresh-faced young women, lying in each other’s arms.
“…Buffy?”
“Yes, Willow. Yes…”
A big, luminous three-quarter blue moon surrounded by stars.
………………………………………………………………………..
“They could be anywhere!”
“Dawn, they rang me on Buffy’s cell phone. There is no reason to be afraid. They just said that they were delayed on the road after visiting your father, and they would camp somewhere and come back in the morning. Honestly, I think you’re overreacting.”
“Oh yeah? Well, I think you’re under-reacting, Mr. British Aristocratic Calm!”
“Dawn…”
“Look, my sister goes for a walk. She disappears. She’s not here at lunch. She doesn’t ring or tell us anything until a call arrives in the small hours of the morning…”
“Ten in the evening, actually.”
“…and claims they’ve been to see Dad – and Buffy hates Dad, she would never go see him – and they were delayed and they’ll be here tomorrow morning…”
“Actually, your father does confirm that they visited him unexpectedly.” Giles does not add what else Mr.Summers told him over the phone; he finds it all too funny.
“But this is the Slayer! You know how many – things – have it in for her! If she suddenly vanishes, you don’t just sit there saying It’ll be all right on the night!”
Giles waits a second, then answers in a calming, level tone: “Yes, Dawn. This is the Slayer. And she has Willow Rosenberg with her. Honestly, if anyone tried it on with the two of them together, I’d worry for him, not for them.”
“Well…” Dawn is unconvinced; but she suspects that she has made a nuisance of herself, and is not too unhappy to be offered an excuse to pipe down.
………………………………………………………………………..
Morning.
The Scoobies are having their last breakfast in Southern California for quite a while. Dawn is sleepy and too tired to be worried; Xander, Anya and Giles are in high good humour, bantering and exchanging good-natured insults. Spike has left for Los Angeles; he has to reach the city before sunrise, so he has made his farewells without waiting for the Slayer whom he loves. He knows they will not meet for a long time to come, and this is as good an excuse as another to avoid an agonizing farewell.
In the light of events, perhaps Spike was wiser than he knew.
Suddenly there is a screech of tyres in the driveway, almost overlain by a shriek of girlish laughter. Four heads turn at once. Neglecting their breakfast, Dawn Summers, Anya Emerson, Xander Harris and Rupert Giles rush into the yard.
Pivoting on thin, muscular arms, Buffy swings her body upwards out of her seat; she flips herself over Willow, and somersaults again over the bonnet, to land on her two feet in front of her extended family, while Willow claps her hands and laughs again. Both look excited, almost flushed. And there is an air about them. Buffy turns and offers Willow her right hand, bowing from the waist as Willow leaves the car, for all the world like a gentleman escorting a lady out of her carriage at the opera. They laugh, look in each other’s eyes, make silly jokes. Their hands flutter over each other as they head to the kitchen – “Where’s breakfast? We’re starving”; and Giles’ right eyebrow makes a slow, unstoppable climb towards his hairline, as he remembers what Mr.Summers had said to him – what he had found funny almost to laugh-out-loud point.
Hello, young lovers, whoever you are,
I hope your troubles are few.
All my good wishes are with you tonight…
Dawn starts formulating questions in her mind abut the previous twenty-four hours; but her first question dies on her tongue, leaving only a confused stutter.
I’ve had a love of my own like yours,
I’ve had a love of my own!
Tears spring in Dawn’s eyes. She gets up, half-runs to her room, and stumbles to her bed.
……………………………………………………………………………………………….
“We leave tomorrow – by private plane. I know it’s rather quick, but at least it won’t give Buffy the opportunity to break any more phones…”
“Wanna bet?”, answers a laughing redhead, still in high spirits; and the blonde with her hand in hers giggles and adds: “Bring on the phones, Giles! Bring on the phones and I shall trash them in their millions!” Giles is happy that she has got over her destructive mood.
……………………………………………………………………………………………….
One person has noticed Dawn’s fumbling run upstairs. Her door creaks open, a man’s figure outlined against the light outside.
“Leave me alone!”
He speaks quietly, ignoring her sobbing anger: “You left early… and you were crying. Tell me what’s the matter.”
“What isn’t? My sister’s a pervert!”
“Your…? Buf-?” Xander had not been expecting this. His words die away.
“C’mon! You’ve seen them together! B-B-Buffy and Willow!”
“That’s the problem…” Xander is suddenly struck by the light. He falls silent again – for a second – while Dawn sobs on.
“You could just tell! You could smell it on them! And they weren’t even trying to disguise… they’d… they’d done it!!”
“I don’t understand, Dawny. You used to love Willow and Tara.”
“I was fourteen then, Xander. I am seventeen now. I didn’t know anything. I just knew that Tara was way cool… and she was! I wasn’t thinking about what they did at night, but Tara was one of the finest persons…” Then, more calmly: “Look, I loved Tara. I’ll always miss her. But it doesn’t have to mean I have to like what she did because she was sexually… messed up!”
She then delivers an accurate and grossly offensive description of some lesbian sex acts, leaving no doubt that she finds them revolting.
“Even if that’s the case” – says Xander, who does not want to argue – “Dawny, it’s your sister, it’s her life. It’s not up to me or you…”
“It’s my life all right! Have you forgotten? Buffy isn’t just my sister, she is me. I was made out of her… her mind, her memories. I cannot just forget what she is doing to her body…” This is followed by a few more sordid details of lesbian activity.
“It’s men who fantasize about this sort of thing, Xander. Women who aren’t actually lesbians just hate the thought.” (And Xander cannot even answer, for he is suddenly struck with the memory of a sorcerous episode in which he had done exactly that.) “I don’t like… don’t, don’t, don’t like… to think of anyone messing about with my body like that…”
