SUMMARY: Buffy has a message to get across, and there's only one way to do it
SPOILERS: S5, not even sure where
RATING: TV-14, I think. Buffy gets her bitch on in this fic
DISTRIBUTION: My site, http://planetslaythis.homestead.com
DEDICATION: To my girl Sandee for finding me the MP3. Love ya, girl!
DISCLAIMER: The song belongs to The Murmurs, the characters that aren't Charlotta belong to Joss. Any questions? Didn't think so.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thank you again, Sandee. You kick ASS!

"I can't believe Mom bought you a guitar," Dawn said, bouncing into her older sister's bedroom. "Can I touch it?"

"No."

"Can I hear you play?"

Buffy sighed and wrote something down. "No."

"Can I at least read what you're writing?"

"NO! God, Dawn." Buffy put her pen down and pushed her hair back, frustrated. "Can't you just go do your homework or something?"

"I don't have any."

"Then call your teachers and get some."

Pouting, Dawn stormed out of Buffy's room and down the stairs. When she heard the back door slam, she sighed contently and continued to finish her song.

When she was done, it was perfect. All she needed now was a spot on Open Mic Night at The Bronze.

Not that it wouldn't be hard to get. The Bronze was strictly occupied by high schoolers now--no one cool went or played there. Buffy knew though that all of her friends still went, every week, on Open Mic Night to hear Giles sing. This week, Buffy thought, they're in for a double header.

The Slayer packed up her new guitar, changed her clothes, grabbed her backpack and left for the club she'd once gone to every night.

The Bronze looked the same as it had when Buffy was in high school. It even smelled the same, of strong coffee and cheap candy bars and snuck cigarettes, smoked in bathroom stalls and behind the stage.

After signing up for the first slot of the night, Buffy walked backstage to the "dressing room". In actuality, it was just a large closet with a mirror on the wall.

"Relax," Buffy whispered to herself. "Just relax." The words did little to calm her fears, but taking Charlotta out of her case and strumming her made Buffy feel alot better.

"I never told anyone I could play," she mumbled quietly. "I guess it just wasn't worth it to me anymore when I became the Slayer. So much of my life wasn't my own anymore that I grew tired of fighting for the option of living my life for myself.

"I grew tired of living. I let myself get into this horrible web of a relationship with a man I detest, one who treats me horribly and has no respect for my family or friends.

"But that's all over now," Buffy smiled as she said it. "Riley showed up to see his vampire bitch tonight, but he'll leave with her and never look back. And that's exactly how I want it."

*****

"You're on when ready," a girl with a purple mow hawk and eleven studs in one ear told Buffy as she passed her in the hall behind the stage. Holding Charlotta close to her chest, Buffy said a silent prayer that all would go well, took a deep breath and stepped onto the stage.

She refused to notice the crowd, to see them as anything other than small colored blobs below her. She was about to close her eyes when she spotted him.

At a small table in the back, just waiting for his whore.

Keep waiting, Buffy thought. She sat down, positioned the microphone and smiled.

"Hello, everyone, I-I'm Buffy Summers. I wrote this song to get out some of the things I've been feeling over the last year. I hope it serves its purpose."

One last deep breath, and she was playing. Slowly at first, but then exactly as she'd written it. With her eyes shut tight, she began to sing.

//No one hurt my fragile little mind right now
It's tangled up, and don't you know
The pussycat in me is curling up right now
But I'll bloom from the inside out
But right now
There's dust on my guitar you ****
And its all your fault
You paralyzed my mind and for that
You suck
Freedom's on my list today and I'm feeling pissed
But my timeless thoughts and ageless mind won't let you get away
And your guilty little conscience won't either
But right now
There's dust on my guitar you ****
And its all your fault
You paralyzed my mind and for that
You suck
We all take risks we all fall hard
But you you went too far
And I'm too plush for your pathetic digs
And you're the only one you'll scar
But right now
There's dust on my guitar you ****
And its all your fault
You paralyzed my mind and for that
You suck
And for that you suck\\

When Buffy opened her eyes, she felt...

Free.

Her mind was clear, her eyes finally open.

The small crowd, mostly friends, applauded her. The booth in the back that held Riley was now empty.

"Good," she muttered. She took a deep breath, one of release and freedom, and smiled before leaving the stage.

Backstage, Buffy wiped off most of her makeup and ponytailed her hair. She changed into her patrol boots and left without speaking to any of her friends. They got the message, she knew, and that was all that mattered.

"Now," she mumbled to herself as she headed out to Shadyside to dust the new arrivals, "How am I gonna get a tape of that to Angel?"

Send feedback to Isa

Back to the Fanfiction Archive