106: What Friends Are For
Title What Friends Are For
Author Buttimabuoni
Rating PG
Word Count 260
Prompt 106 (Sad Songs)
Characters/Pairing (if any) Buffy
Buffy watched the helicopter till it passed the horizon. Nothing to be done. She’d run, she’d screamed, she’d tried so damn hard to break down the shell around her heart. Nothing had worked. Riley was gone. She was alone again.
She’d sprinted to the helipad, breaking records as she ran. It must have taken eight times as long to drag back into Sunnydale, longer still to reach Revello Drive and her beloved, threatened, draining home.
What was left? Caring for Mom, protecting Dawn, Slayer duties… Hard work and no escape. Right about now, the thing she wanted most was someone to look after her. Not forever, just to … make soup maybe? Something like that, something basic and comforting that would mean she could switch off for a few moments.
Someone was lurking by the street tree. Not Spike. Not today. Buffy tensed, close to snapping.
But it wasn’t Spike. Too big, too dark, too…uncoordinated?
“Hey Buff.”
“Hey Xander.”
“Didn’t catch him, huh?”
“Nope. Not fast enough”
“Damn. ‘S’gotta sting.”
“I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Didn’t think you would. Not yet. Here. Therapy for today.” Xander tossed her a small parcel. “And remember, when you need the talking, you know where we are. ‘Kay?” And he walked away.
Buffy slouched off to the house. There would be time for spoken gratitude later. Now, there was just the Xander Harris Patent Country Lost Depressed Dumped Buddy-Supporting Mix-Tape™.
For the first few hours, at least, it was time for the comforting music of pain.
Thanks, Xander. Needed that.
~~~~~~~~~
Author Buttimabuoni
Rating PG
Word Count 260
Prompt 106 (Sad Songs)
Characters/Pairing (if any) Buffy
Buffy watched the helicopter till it passed the horizon. Nothing to be done. She’d run, she’d screamed, she’d tried so damn hard to break down the shell around her heart. Nothing had worked. Riley was gone. She was alone again.
She’d sprinted to the helipad, breaking records as she ran. It must have taken eight times as long to drag back into Sunnydale, longer still to reach Revello Drive and her beloved, threatened, draining home.
What was left? Caring for Mom, protecting Dawn, Slayer duties… Hard work and no escape. Right about now, the thing she wanted most was someone to look after her. Not forever, just to … make soup maybe? Something like that, something basic and comforting that would mean she could switch off for a few moments.
Someone was lurking by the street tree. Not Spike. Not today. Buffy tensed, close to snapping.
But it wasn’t Spike. Too big, too dark, too…uncoordinated?
“Hey Buff.”
“Hey Xander.”
“Didn’t catch him, huh?”
“Nope. Not fast enough”
“Damn. ‘S’gotta sting.”
“I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Didn’t think you would. Not yet. Here. Therapy for today.” Xander tossed her a small parcel. “And remember, when you need the talking, you know where we are. ‘Kay?” And he walked away.
Buffy slouched off to the house. There would be time for spoken gratitude later. Now, there was just the Xander Harris Patent Country Lost Depressed Dumped Buddy-Supporting Mix-Tape™.
For the first few hours, at least, it was time for the comforting music of pain.
Thanks, Xander. Needed that.
~~~~~~~~~