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{Though the metal of the blade is worn with age and years, its edge has not dulled in sharpness. Trusted and faithful it has stayed by my side, though no longer literally it is always with me in spirit. Once used for repelling the demons that sought out my home, now used for embracing them fully, for giving them the blood they demand like a babe for his mother’s breast. I feel the flesh underneath my firm hands, the wooden hilt replaced time and time again but the blade… the blade remained. It is a part of me as I am a part of it. A contract for my soul written in blood and ink, upon the leathery skin of a hide forever carved into time and existence itself.
A contract to serve all of my mortal years, and for as many years as they required me after. I never expected them to keep me under their thumb for so long. Not that I mind.}
Have you ever had the feeling of being watched while you're sleeping? For some people that's like the coolest thing ever, because they imagine that the love of their lives is watching them as they sleep, which is considered a very romantic thing to do (if you're into that sort of thing) But for me, being watched as I sleep, has nothing to do with romanticism. Especially when you open your eyes and you realize that there is no handsome man watching you, instead there is a big saggy and creepy spider with lots of little purple eyes that glow in the dark. Talk about a loud neighbor in the middle of the night. I let out a scream of pure terror and jumped out my bed instantly; knocking the freaking lamp down in the process. I switched on the lights only to discover that my apartment was basically this little gathering place for spiders and rats. At that point, I cursed the day I decided to move into a cheap apartment. I had enough money to rent a nice apartment but I wanted to save the money and to spend it wisely; after all, it was not like I owned another house back in Sunnydale that I could sell just like I did with the last one. Rolling my eyes, I put on some sweat pants and decided to start looking for a new place to stay.
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The complete deafening silence and emptiness that consumed our home after Adam and Eve had left haunts my dreams to this day. I was frozen in place, unable to process what I had seen, what I was feeling. I was completely lost, in a coma but still wide awake. What I didn’t know was that a neighbor heard the commotion and called the cops, them arriving to the sight of me on my knees and my wife and daughter dead in front of me. Needless to say the worst was assumed, and I was arrested. I couldn’t even argue or protest, I was just so empty that I went with them without a word like a lost puppy. While everything for my court date was being organised, I was in prison, left with plenty of time to think, to try and process what the hell had happened.
My mind kept flashing back to the man, Adam, his eyes shining a bright yellow, a look of pleasure and satisfaction in them as fangs sprang from his distorted face. Up until that moment, vampires had been nothing but stories, myths, old gothic horror characters. But the more I thought about the stories, the more it made sense to me. Although it really didn’t matter at that stage, because I had had no legal representation, and the prosecutors were closing in on putting me on death row. However, Sarah’s father, the owner of a massive contracting company, contacted one of his close friends who works in a big law firm that specializes in “unique cases”, and payed for him to fly to Detroit to represent me. The ironic thing is that Sarah’s dad had always been against the two of us being together, but apparently decided that me being put on death row for killing his daughter would bring unwanted attention to his company, instead deciding that helping to defend a poor innocent man when no one else would against a lynching prosecution would look a lot better. This man proceeded to win the case, and subsequently, my freedom.
In the next week or so I stayed in a motel, doing as much research on vampires as I could. When I had finally decided my move, I went back to my home one last time. I know I should have kept something, but I just couldn’t. The house looked as if nothing was wrong, as if it still had a family that lived there. I left that place with nothing but a photo in my wallet.
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I get said photo out of my wallet, staring at it. Its an image of the 3 of us. A family. An image of a time that seemed like it was a lifetime ago. Now that I think about it, I guess it was.
When Xander and Anya got back to Willow and Buffy’s dorm room, Buffy was nowhere to be seen. Anya sat down on the edge of Willow’s bed next to Xander, taking his hand.
"So what’s the what?" said Willow, raising her eyebrows to look at them both with wide eyes. "You said it was important. There’s not another apocalypse is there, because I’m gonna join the teamsters union so I’m entitled to days off."
Xander laughed. “No apocalypse. At least…I don’t think so.”
She beamed with relief, bouncing slightly in her chair. “Oh good. Then I’m all yours. Fire away.”
Nodding, Xander told her the story about what happened at the docks, and Willow’s eyes got wide when he got to the part about the log books. When he described what happened next, her jaw dropped. “He knocked you out? And you got fired? Who is this guy? Is he a vampire? Or something equally…ooo-kie?”
Xander looked at Anya, then back at Willow, shaking his head. “Nothing like that. The guy was just a guy as far as I could tell. He must have been desperate. We were telling Buffy, he kept talking about this friend he was looking for. Someone named Adam. But I was thinking…the log books are backed up on the computers. So then I thought…computers…my pal Willow…maybe she can do a little cyber-sleuthing.”
"Adam, huh?" She frowned, tapping a finger on her chin. "Hmm. You sure that’s all he said? That’s not much to go on."
With a sigh, Xander looked down, clasping his hands between his knees. “That’s all I got. Maybe he said more after he knocked me out, but I was too busy being unconscious to catch it.”
Anya nodded slowly in agreement, interjecting what she felt was the most important point. “Yes. And I think he needs to sue for hazard pay.”
Willow and Xander both turned and blinked at her.
Knowing there were few things he could say to this without starting an argument, Xander instead looked over at her with a crooked smile, patting her knee. “You’re pretty.”
She settled against his shoulder, quietly hugging him close, smiling contentedly.
Glad to see that Anya wasn’t going to push that topic further, Willow reached into her backpack, got out her laptop, and opened it on the desk.
"I don’t know if I’ll be able to find what you want to know or not," she said, booting up the system, "but I’ll do my best. Breaking into the system shouldn’t be hard. It’s just a matter of finding what we’re looking for. It might take some time, though. It’s kind of late. Can I call you once I’ve found something?"
”Sure, Will,” Xander said, rising to go. “That’ll be fine.”
He put his arms out and hugged Willow tightly. “It’s good to see you.”
"I’m just five minutes away," Willow said, her voice muffled against his shirt.
"That’s five minutes too far."
Anya stood beside him, smiling at Willow, watching them hug. A little part of her knew there had been something between the two of them, but she also knew that a deep friendship lay beneath it, and that made her feel warm inside. She’d never known what that kind of friendship was like until she had seen the closeness they all shared. It was nice, the friendship thing. And maybe someday, she would feel like she was more than just Xander’s girlfriend.
When Willow turned and hugged her too, Anya was genuinely touched, and she hugged her back with genuine affection.
"Thank you," she said as she patted Willow’s back, not sure if it was appropriate, but hoping it didn’t sound too awkward nonetheless.
Willow smiled and stepped back. “It’s cool. I’m glad you guys came to see me. Maybe next time, it will be for cookies.”
So first things first, this journal writing business is just for HOMEWORK, okay? Not like anyone else will be reading this but my professor (hellloooo Professor Grant!) so I don't know why I felt the need to clarify all of that, but anyways....moving on. Prof G (I hope you don't mind if I call you that, I mean, we're on a nickname basis by now, am I right?) dropped this "reflection" assignment on us the other day, and I must admit, it's been years since I've done any sort of reflecting on myself. On paper anyways. I think I had a fuzzy pink journal when I was like, 6. You can't see me but I am literally cringing at the thought of that pink journal.
Eve is drifting off to sleep, but I just can't. There is so much I need to discover about this place. I lie there next to her in the dark of our bedroom, listening to the little sounds she makes as she dreams, and I think about what I have learned so far.
I know her so well, sometimes it is hard to know where I end and she begins. She is a part of me, so embedded in the very fabric of my being that contemplating the loss of her is impossible. According to the theory of entanglement, when you separate an entwined particle, when you move both parts away from the other, even at opposite ends of the universe, if you alter or affect one, the other will be identically altered or affected.
That is how it is with Eve and I. We are entangled. Linked. Inextricable. Eternal.
Dear Buffy,
Forewarning, I’m sorry if you can’t read my handwriting. Did you know in college they have classes for teachers to learn how to write horribly? Teasing. I’m just still in a tremor-state due to the medication and, well, the fact that I was treated like a fish by a vampire with my own kitchen knife.
There’s an irony in that, somewhere. I don’t know where but I’ll find it one day. You’ll hear the “Eureka” a million miles away.
Dear Sandy,
By the time you read this letter I won’t be living in Sunnydale any more. I’ll try to call when I can, but for right now some things are kind of… coming up from the roots. I’m moving to Los Angeles to help out a friend with some rent on their new place. I’ve stayed there already and I don’t mind the neighborhood—it’s nicer than anything we could have ever saved up for. I know it’s sudden and you and Mum might be mad that I didn’t exactly tell you but… some things happened back in Sunnydale and I can’t stay there anymore. Not for some time, anyway.
“Aint you listenin'?” Gunn lets out an exasperated sigh and looks Dylan as he shakes his head. “For the twelfth fuckin' time. Burning the motheruckers wont work, cause we tried it. Brains damn near exploded. We gotta come up with somethin' else.”
Alonna nods, crossing her arms with a trouble look on her face. With LeVonne still in the basement keeping an eye on the nest, the rest of them had gone upstairs to discuss what they were going to do about these slimy, glowing, pulsing eggs.
“How's about stabbin' them,” Gunn suggests, running a hand over his bald head. “Or shoo--” A scream from downstairs cuts off his sentence.
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