It was a cold and dreary day in Sunnydale, as Buffy walked out of the house and headed over to The Magic Box. This particular morning felt off, though. The ground seemed to shake, though it wasn't, and the trees almost whimpered, as if they were too scared to blow in the breeze. Buffy looked around cautiously, in front of, behind, and from side to side. There was nothing out of the ordinary within a 10 mile radius. A woman walked down the driveway to grab a newspaper and waved, a man was already mowing his lawn, even though it was only ten in the morning, and a little girl rode her bicycle up the sidewalk. Life seemed peaceful, as it usually did...before something horrible happened. What's that saying? Buffy thought to herself as she walked on. Isn't it: Everything's always calm before the storm? She could feel it. The storm. And it would only be days before she had to face the battle of a lifetime. A battle to the death.
Buffy picked up her pace as she drew nearer to Giles' shop downtown. She wondered desperately what exactly was making her feel like this, and what this impending doom was. She walked in briskly and looked around to see if anyone else had shown up yet, and of course, everyone was already seated at the table and talking over bagels/donuts and coffee. The whole gang was there: Willow, Xander, Anya, Tara, and even Dawn was there, which explained why she wouldn't answer when Buffy called her down for pancakes, her favorite breakfast.
"I'm glad you're here Dawn, I was worried! But I figured you'd be here, so it's okay. It's just..." Buffy trailed off, pretending to look hurt, and saddened that her sister abandoned her this morning, which she kind of was, but not to the extent in which she was playing it up.
"It's just...what, Buffy? You always do this...I'm sorry?" Dawn groaned as she rolled her eyes and took another bite of her bagel.
"It's just that I made you pancakes this morning. Chocolate chip in the shape of a heart...kind of. I mean, it almost looked like a heart. More like a dysfuntional circle, because the chocolate chips wouldn't...but that's...a different...anyway, Giles. I had this weird feeling this morning as I was walking here..." Buffy was now ranting, and didn't exactly know why.
"Ahh, yes." Giles began, taking his glasses off and cleaning them. Which automatically, in "Giles Body Language", meant impending doominess. Buffy thought to herself, a smile creeping up on her face. She refocused.
"Well, you see...Willow looked into it, and found that...according to the ancient scrolls, every 100 years, the hellmouth unleashes the Cramodial. A fierce demon of great strength and agility. It's meant to bring forth something even more evil...Buffy...it's meant to revive...Angelus." Giles paused before speaking Angel's name.
And then...
Buffy ran. The only thing she could do at the time. She took one look at everyone gaping at her, awaiting what emotion she'd fly out at them with, but instead of screaming and crying or raging with anger, she ran. She wanted to be strong, but she couldn't. If they only knew the extent to which Angel's death had on her, they'd understand. It's not like they weren't there to witness it most of it, before the actual death because they were, but...they didn't know everything, and Buffy certainly wasn't going to share her secret anytime soon.
TBC...
Please review...this is my first fic in a while, and I would love some support to go on with it.
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