Disclaimer Characters and concept belong to JW et al, title and lyrics belong to Nik Kershaw&to be frank!
Spoilers Pretty much everything is fair game
Rating PG
Feedback Is of the good! (Like a naked Spike & Angel)
Summary Future fic Buffys POV post Shanshu Lyrics in italics
Dedication Everyone who holds a special place in my heart

With an air of independence she walks in to your domain
You are captured by her beauty; you can feel her taking aim

What am I doing here? This is his city, his district, hell its probably even his favorite bar. So what am I doing here, nursing an ever flattening vodka and coke?

By the time he came to me it was too late, I had lost the ability to feel anything but pain, hate and rage. Everyone and everything I had ever loved had left or been taken away from me. How could I do that to him? After all those years of waiting and longing, he finally got his redemption. Ten minutes with me and he would have wound up dead. Again. Just like everyone else who lived in my heart.

So I told him that I didn't want him, that I didn't care that he had got his Shanshu. What did it matter to me that he was human? You have a pulse? Great. Now go tell someone who gives a f***

The trouble is, I do. I care more than I have ever cared about anything else. Nothing would please me more than to be taken into those arms and held for the rest of my days. But I cant. Love is bad; happiness is something that only the deserving experience, and I have had more than enough experience of just how undeserving I am. No, he is better off without me.

I know he's out there; he's always out there, watching me. Although its been five years since we happened around the same way, I know he knows what I am doing, just as I know about him. If ever either one of us needed the other, we would be there in a heartbeat.

In a heartbeat. Strange to think that he has one of those now. I wonder how he is handling the change? In some ways we have swapped roles. He is now free; he can live and love without repercussion. All I can do is exist. No one must ever get close to me again.

Underneath the cold and staring eyes
Underneath the cut of her replies
Underneath the passionless disguise
She cries, she cries, she cries

Go to the companion, Might As Well Be on Mars

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