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DISCLAIMER: I am the snowball and Jossverse is hell. Guess the rest.
SUMMARY: Buffy. "She still likes to dance."
TIMELINE: post-Chosen
WORDCOUNT: 1098
DEDICATION: to Leelee, in her birthday. *hugs*
DÉJÀ VU
by Leni
She still likes to dance.
Sometimes she dances when she's alone at home, on those rare occasions when she isn't
hosting a confused Slayer, a visiting witch or a demon on the good side of her tolerance.
Buffy only chuckles when she realises that the third are her more common guests.
She welcomes them all; she's been homeless once, had to drift from refuge to refuge until
she and Dawn raised enough money for that cramped apartment in Italy. Only months later
did Giles finally tap into the Council accounts, it had been the blessing they'd hoped
for. Willow immediately hired real instructors for the Slayers, no more Buffy and Faith
digging themselves an early grave training from dawn to midnight. Xander resumed his
travels across the world, looking for the girls that didn't understand their new
strengths. Giles struck a 'deal' that finally made Faith's freedom legal. Buffy? Buffy
smiled and encouraged all of them, sent Dawn to a good college and bought the house of her
dreams. The fact that only a week later a torrent of White Hats would invade it didn't
deter her. After all, they'd done the same in her little apartment as well.
The first time she really danced after Sunnydale was when she moved her things to the
house. Skipping from room to room and inspecting every detail. She had sent Xander away
with the promise of calling immediately if there was something to be fixed. She pushed
Dawn through the door, reminding her little sister that she shouldn't miss class when
there was no Apocalypse concerned. Willow and Giles weren't as stubborn, smiling
indulgently and waving her goodbye before getting into their respective cars.
Then Buffy closed the door and leaned against it, the smile on her face so wide that her
cheeks resented the effort. Buffy didn't care. She breathed in the smell of wood and free
spaces, counted the empty rooms and knew her visits wouldn't bunk in the middle of the
kitchen or the living room anymore. Her feet moved on their own, going through steps they
remembered from long ago. There was no music, not even her own voice or a simple whistle.
But she still danced.
Tonight she's out, 26-years-old and still very much in love with the party scene. Here she
doesn't have to be the poster-child of Slayerhood. Doesn't have to deal with worried
parents and scared little girls. She only wants to dance the night away.
She chuckles when the DJ announces a 90's hour. Let the memories come, she thinks with a
smile, shaking her head when her partner asks if she wants a rest. He was only humouring
her when he invited her to dance and she knows it. If she were anyone but herself she'd
take pity on him and accept the drink he's offering. But Buffy won't miss a chance on the
dance floor, not as long as her feet can carry her. The first songs take her back to high
school and giggling conversations with Willow. The Bronze. One of them comes straight from
her Prom, and she can picture the decorated gym and her funny umbrella for a second;
smiles. One of them reminds her of Oz, how he'd played it for Willow in the courtyard.
Good old times.
Buffy has been convinced to sit down by the eighth song. Feet hurting and almost throbbing
inside her little - but fashionable! - shoes. She sips quietly from her strawberry
daiquiri, listening attentively to her companion. He's nice, travels frequently across the
world too. In fact, it was Xander who brought him from the middle of Russia, too stunned
by the coincidence of finding someone else recruiting the new Slayer.
It was weird in the beginning, none trusted him completely and he acted so awkwardly
around them, unsure which part to play in their little group. But over the last six months
he's been accepted, no questions or doubts thrown his way anymore. Even Xander calls him
to cover his back when he's going into a particularly dangerous zone.
Right now Buffy's newest friend is telling her about an encounter with a Luith nest in the
middle of Tokyo. She should stop him, tell him that she doesn't talk shop when she's
having fun. But his tale is fun, almost brings her into the action. It's been too
long since she raided a Luith nest.
Suddenly her head snaps to a side, the hairs at her nape standing in alert. There's
something in the air. Something she should recognise. But Buffy can't put her finger on
it. Blast from the past, that phrase gets into her thoughts. What?
His voice is quickly drowned under her whirling thoughts. Is she sensing a demon? Maybe a
vampire in the dance floor? Buffy looks intently into it. The current song teases her with
the answer, a whisper she can't quite comprehend. In the middle of the floor a couple
quickly catches her attention. He's tall with black hair. She's petite and blonde. They
are kissing. Buffy can't breath for a moment, can't think beyond the sudden blank invading
her. Then there's a storm of sentences and emotions. Of course, she thinks with a dry
chuckle, figures it would happen tonight.
The couple stays in their embrace. Meanwhile Buffy sees a superimposing figure where the
girl leaves, a silver cross resting on her chest. In her vision the man stays standing,
looking after her. The couple in front of her kiss again. The same song keeps playing
hauntingly in both backgrounds.
The man at her side tugs at her shoulder, breaking her concentration. The vision
disappears as quickly as it came, leaving the reality of a happy couple enjoying a sweet
moment on the dance floor.
Buffy looks up, finding brown eyes eyeing her worriedly. She smiles and stands up, hands
going around his neck and body beginning to move quietly to the music. He looks confused
for a moment, but quickly catches up with her and puts one hand at her waist, the other
lifting her chin to read her expression. She smiles warmly, so different from the bitter
smile she offered him then. They sway to the song, their movement almost languid compared
to others. She doesn't wear his gift anymore, his skin wouldn't bear the mark if she did.
But when they kiss, neither cares.
The kiss stops eventually, and both realise all over again what they discovered so many
years ago. But this time they will continue dancing until the song is over.
Maybe even beyond that.
The End
07/11/04
Feedback,
*puppy eyes*
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