"I tried to keep that in mind as I trudged up to my room with the duffel
bag in
hand, the bare essentials- that’s all I will need. Yet even as I said it, I had
a nagging feeling in my gut, a small voice telling me that there when this is
over, it will be one of two things standing. Me or Sunnydale."- Sentimental
Sentimental
Title: Sentimental
Author: crystalix
Rating: G
Summary: A missing scene from “Chosen”, told from Buffy’s POV.
Pairing: minor Buffy/Angel
Timeline: Chosen (just before they leave for Sunnydale High)
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon and co.
Distribution: Please ask first!
Sentimental
I’ve never pictured myself as the sentimental type. I mean sure, when I was young
I would keep anything and everything to look back on “someday”; whether it was
a small toy or a bottle-cap I found on the streets of LA, I would pick it up
for no apparent reason, take it home, and put it in my little jewellery box,
and to me it was as valuable as any jewels or diamonds I may have had.
But then one sunny afternoon at Hermey High school changed all that. No longer
would I pick up that small sparkling penny on the ground, or hang onto old belongings.
It was one of the many things that changed when I became the slayer, a part of
me that was pushed aside for my duty. I didn’t see the point in keeping things
like that around anymore, since with the acceptance of the slayer, came the knowledge
that there would most likely not be a “someday” for me.
I tried to keep that in mind as I trudged up to my room with the duffel bag in
hand, the bare essentials- that’s all I will need. Yet even as I said it, I had
a nagging feeling in my gut, a small voice telling me that there when this is
over, it will be one of two things standing. Me or Sunnydale. Either way, I wouldn’t
have the chance to step into this room ever again. Sunnydale is really where
it all started, it makes sense that one way or another, it is where it will end.
I quickly scour my room for some specific belongings, starting with the usuals,
the things you would pack if you were staying over at a friend’s house. I open
my closet and pull out a few of my favourite outfits, and just as I am about
to close the door, I notice something. A small box lying on the floor, one that
I had forgotten about for so long now. Entranced, I get down on my knees and
open the box, memories flooding my mind as the things inside come into view.
They are small things; things that most people would call pointless and insignificant,
things that even today, I am unsure as to why I still have them.
First is a leather jacket, worn from the years it has accompanied me on patrol,
yet still carrying the slight scent of it’s previous owner. Next is a small box,
inside is a small, silver, cross necklace; a simple yet beautiful ornament that
has saved my life on more than one occation. My eyes fall upon a simple book
of poetry, mud still stains its cover from the night that it was lost, I smile
slightly as I remember rooting around for hours for it, refusing to wait until
I was healed to look, I went out only hours after Quentin caught up with Giles
and I in the library.
The bottom of the box is covered with small things, a four year old movie ticket,
a Los Angeles PI’s business card, a bracelet from my old Halloween costume, a
hair clip, and buried under all the rubble, was something I had long forgotten
was there, something that I had found on my pillow the night of my high school
graduation. A small silver ring, a heart adorning its centre with a crown above
it, surrounded by two hands. Tears well in my eyes as I remember the night I
received this, the unbelievable love and trust that I haven’t really felt since.
My fingers gently caress its smooth planes, a sense of familiarity washing over
me.
I look to the box in question, it isn’t overly large, it would no doubt fit in
the bag that I have packed. But it would take up unnecessary space, space that
could be used for weapons for the battle ahead. Bringing them wouldn’t help to
change the outcome of the fight in our favour, nor would it save any of my comrades
if the worst should come. My own words echoed in my mind “only bring the bare
essentials, we’re going to war- and we’ll need all the weapons we can get”. Sighing,
I place the ring back into the box and close it, shoving my forgotten blouse
into the still-empty bag, only a fool would be selfish enough to bring useless
belongings like that.
A few minutes later, just as I’m about to zip the bag shut, an unexpected voice
sounds from the doorway.
“Buffy?” turning, I see Willow peaking in my door. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah.” I say quickly, giving her a bright smile.
She nods and heads down the stairs. Turning my attention back to my bag, I pull
the zipper closed over the opening, and picking up the now over-stuffed bag,
I follow my friend downstairs, a small sliver ring glinting on my finger as I
go.
I guess I really am a sentimental fool after all.
But I’m no idiot. At least this way, I can die without any further regrets.
I’ll go into battle an ever- love struck woman instead of an unbeatable slayer;
a sentimental fool instead of a selfless-warrior.
I suppress the girlish giggle within me, no- not just any sentimental fool.
His sentimental fool.
The first doesn’t stand a chance.
The End
