SUMMARY: Buffy's all alone in her dorm with her thoughts. Not a good thing. There is nothing that competes with habit So you can make a killing I wish I was both young and stupid
So you could make a killing I could follow you and search the rubble Or I could make a killing Dear Mom, Don't blame yourself for what I've done. You *are* partially to blame
for this, of course, but I would hate to have to be the guardian angel to
someone with guilt over their daughter's suicide. Huh. Almost an oxymoron, isn't it?
If I remember correctly what an oxymoron is. Buffy scrapped the tenth letter she'd started to her mother and put it
through the shredder in her dorm room. With Willow away at a Wiccan
celebration, Buffy had had all night to write her goodbye letters to her
friends and family, and most importantly, her will. She'd been very clear in who was to have what. She made sure that Angel
would get all of her crosses, stakes and other weaponry, plus a glass heart
paperweight she'd had since she was four. Hopefully, he'd get the picture.
She wanted Willow to have her CD collection, her computer, her clothes.
Also all of her dolls and her journals, because only a best friend should
know what's swimming around in your mind. Xander was to get her movie collection, and most importantly, her
diploma. She wrote in her letter to him that he was instrumental in her
having graduating, and that he'd never really know how much he meant to her.
"Someday, maybe Xand," she'd whispered as she sealed the letter. "Someday
I'll dance with you for real." Her letters to Oz and Cordelia weren't as significant, though she still
poured her heart into them. She wanted them to know that she loved them,
even if she didn't see them anymore. She'd even written Demon Anya a letter. Not because she liked her, but
because she knew she was important to Xander that Anya be a part of the
group, and it was the least she could do. Buffy even surprised herself by deciding to write to Spike. In her
letter, she explained things she couldn't bring herself to tell the others.
Maybe he would share the letter with them, so that they would understand
better how she was feeling. "Being alone is the worst thing in the world," she'd written. "I don't
know if you can understand 'cause you're a vampire and you're evil and you
love to be by yourself with your duster and your Cancer sticks and your
badass language. But let me tell you something, Spike. Alone time is very
overrated. Try living your entire life in fear of something you'll never get to
have. I know you know what I'm talking about so I won't embarrass myself so
much as to say it. The gang doesn't understand, they don't know what Angel
meant to me, what he'll always mean. They just see him as a crush.
He was never a crush, Spike. From day one, it was immortal love, true
and pure and heart-wrenching. You're in love with Drusilla, so you could
probably almost relate, in your demented, insane vampire way, to how we felt
about each other. Living without him is unbearable. And I know I'll never get him back, so
I'm going on without him. Someday, he'll meet up with me and we'll be happy.
Until then, keep the Hellmouth safe for me." She'd cried the entire time while writing to Giles. She felt so horrible
for leaving him, but she couldn't help it. She needed an out.
She was sick and tired of fighting and crying and being alone. Riley had
been nice at times, but he was also abusive, and him hitting her was the last
straw. There hadn't been any other men after that, probably because she'd
accidentally on purpose burned down the entire Initiative shortly after their
breakup. All charges against her were dropped due to lack of evidence, but
the guys on campus knew she wasn't one to mess with after Parker and Riley
both wound up dead, so they kept their distance. Not that she wanted any of them. She didn't.
She still wanted Angel. Angel, who left her for Los Angeles and a cop named Kate. Cordelia said
she was mousy, but Buffy had seen them kissing and it was enough to send her
over the edge. She'd come back to Sunnydale, played nice until Willow left
and then began plotting. Willy was so stupid. He loaned her a gun with no questions - probably
because she could and would kick his ass - and now she had what she needed.
An empty room, a CD player on repeat, and the loaded pistol.
Aimee Mann's voice was amazingly inspiring as Buffy finished her last
letter to her Watcher and sealed it with Willow's fancy wax stamper thing.
She decided not to leave her mother a note, since that would have more of an
effect than anything. She went over to Amy's cage and set Mr. Gordo inside. Now that she could
no longer hold him, she wanted someone to appreciate his soft exterior and
good listening ear. By the way Amy instantly started to nibble on the
stuffed pig, Buffy was sure they'd be fast friends. She laid down on her bed and kissed the Claddagh ring on her finger,
which she knew no one would dare remove for her funeral. She'd put on her
favorite dress, the bright red one she'd worn when she'd seen Angel in LA and
pretended to forget their magickal weekend together, and she was holding the
cross Angel had given her the first night they met. Carefully, she picked up the gun and held it to the side of her head.
She took one long, deep breath, and pulled the trigger.
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SPOILER: Everything and nothing
DISTRIBUTION: Sandee, of course - My site -
- Crystal and Butterfly if they
want it - A Soul's Redemption - Buffy & Angel Star Crossed Lovers - Anyone
else - sure, just email me & lmk where it's going - I like seeing my name in
print =)
RATING: TV-PG - extremely angsty and sad, I'll warn you now.
DISCLAIMER: Stupidhead Joss owns the characters. Did I mention that I hate
him??? The song is the property of Goddess Aimee Mann
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I realize that my angst has sorta been high lately, but I
really needed to do this story. I'm not big on writing this type of thing,
but I felt the need to do it, so I did. This doesn't end well, and I mean
that literally. Read at your own risk.
DEDICATION: To MTV. They'll never know it, but the Network was instrumental
in the creation of this fanfic.
4/20/00
And I know it's neither deep nor tragic
It's simply that you have to have it
Oh you can make a killing
Oh you can make a killing
Then I too could have the fun that you did
Till it was time to pony up what you bid
Oh you could make a killing
Oh you could make a killing
Or stay right here and save myself some trouble
Or try to keep myself from seeing double
Or I could make a killing
Oh I could make a killing
Yeah I could make a killing
I could make a killing\\