Title: Mourning Period

Author: Jeanny

Rating: PG-13

Feedback: Please. jeannygrrl@hotmail.com

Spoilers: Season 7 Through Beneath You

Distribution: I don't mind, just credit me and let me know where it's going.

Summary: Buffy watches something die.

Disclaimer: The Buffyverse isn't mine and I don't own the characters. Just like using them to weave little story spells.

********

“No,” Buffy said emphatically as she pulled away, then she just watched what she had now made inevitable. It chilled her, just like always. Death is never simple, never just one thing. It can be slow, agonizingly slow, or as swift and defined as blowing out a candle. And sometimes Death, on rare occasions, is nearly undetectable, but it’s always cold.

Buffy shivered.

Someone else might not have even noticed it dying, but as the Slayer (twice-revived) she had more than the average share of experiences of, well, being near Death. She knew it in all its forms and colors, and though she would never have claimed to be an expert in this particular kind...she recognized it.

She knew it.

She mourned it.

Even though she was the one who had caused it.

Of course. Like always. Her best skill, depriving things of life. Absently Buffy wondered how that would look on a resume. She sighed and shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. She didn’t know what she should do. The worst part was, she knew she could stop it, but she wouldn’t. It was hard, and it was cold, but it was what had to be.

When she was sure it was over, Buffy cleared her throat. Lifeless eyes searched hers, and she repressed a shiver.

“Do you mind if I ask why?” Robin rasped. Buffy shrugged helplessly.

“I just can’t.” she answered truthfully, keeping that same iciness in her voice. Her killing tone. “Don’t ask again.”

It wasn’t enough of an explanation, but the less she said, the better. Besides, she couldn’t tell him the whole truth, could she? That nipping this dream in the bud was safer for him in the long run. That her office romances always end in heartache. Sometimes in the literal sense of stakes and swords and blood. No, as little discussion as possible about this was best.

The Hellmouth showed mercy for once. The bell rang, the hall filling with students. Buffy turned and walked away into the throng, away from Robin Wood , trying to distance herself in all ways from that new dullness in his eyes. She’d destroyed the spark that had been there, the spark of hope and like and...and possibility. Or something like that. Whatever it had been, whatever it was that had been trying to find a foothold between them, it was over. Finished. Of that much, Buffy was certain.

She felt so cold.

*****

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