it's 6:44 p.m., on 2001-06-12 - recovering the satellites.

~

I'm sitting here at school, and I'm wishing that I could hear from PK and Ali, but I don't have time to really chat properly about the shifts because I have class in about ten minutes.

So I'm going to talk to Cathy instead, and think about the new buffy series I thought up while in the car -- based on Counting Crows song lyrics, because they say, 'why'd you come home to this angel's town' and 'it's a lifetime commitment, recovering the satellites, and all anybody really wants to know is, when are you gonna come down.'

Things like that are very 'Gift' oriented, I'm thinking.

'of anybody's satellite, I wish that you were mine'

Spike looks up. "hey, niblet, another shooting star."

"Yeah."

Dawn doesn't care, done in with falling and done in with wishing. They're driving to Vegas, and Spike's going to teach her how to shift a standard while the desert roads drift in and out of the night air.

She doesn't mention Buffy, and he doesn't mention Buffy.

"Spike?"

"Yeah."

"You're not so bad. You know."

He'd grin, a little, but heart heavy. "I'm gonna wish on that star, y'know. I'm gonna wish that we find some more gas tomorrow."

"Spike," and her voice would be teasing, "if you tell people your wishes they don't come true."

Flashback-- 'but you make me feel like a man' -- and he tosses the vodka over his shoulder.

They're sitting on the hood of his car.

"I know."

~*~

Something like that. Make the on the road post-Gift, make it Counting Crows. I think it was always counting crows, even if I didn't know it.

~*~

'your mother recognises, all your desperate displays-- she watches as her baby drifts violently away'

He's whispering. "I'm sorry, Joyce."

Two little Summers, all laid out in a row. Xander finds him, eventually, sitting on a lawn chair at dusk, watching over the headstone of Buffy Summers.

"What are you doing here, Giles?"

"I thought that they might try to-- they might--" Giles chokes.

Xander asks, "What?"

"--knock the headstone down. Or something. Since Spike's taken Dawn I wanted to, to."

He chokes again.

"Spike's taken Dawn? Shit, Giles! We have to go after--"

"No."

"No?" Xander's bewildered.

Giles sucks on a smoke, hands shaking. "No. She's in good hands, and-- and." He whispers, "I'm sorry, Joyce."

Can't say anything else. Xander takes him home.

~*~

~

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moving truck dilemma - October 28, 2015
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bruise - June 29, 2015

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