Tears I Cry
By: spoiledsquish
Disclaimer: I don’t own them. Fresley would have come to be a lot sooner if I had…and B/A would have just stayed together, obviously.
Author’s Note: This fic idea just came to me as I was listening to music this afternoon. Yes, I know I still have fics to finish, but I’m taking a break to work on something new. It’s also kind of comprised of some of the thematic elements of “The Notebook”, and “Ever After”… in a way.
Distribution: Seductive Web, Breathe No More, When The Sun Sets, Enchanting Place…basically whoever had permission before now, can have it. Everyone else, please ask first…I tend to be a bitch if I find out you put it somewhere without my prior permission!
Summary: AU. Revelations are told over a cup of coffee…
Pairings: B/A. All other pairings are a secret.
Rating: R, for the most part. The sexual scenes, are as always, NC-17.
Spoilers: None, this is AU.
Dedication: To Tyger, cuz she’s just an inspiration in and of itself.
Prologue
She met the gray haired, elder woman in a secluded café in one of the cozy booths towards the back of the establishment. The lighting was dim there, especially for it being early in the day. The young brunette didn’t comprehend why they were meeting here, out in the country, when they could have easily met in the tri-county area, where it was obviously more crowded.
She opened her notebook, and began to review her notes, while she waited for the elder to arrive. How she ever got involved in this was beyond her. Even the mere thesis of this woman’s actions, her history, was just incompetent. How could one woman survive all of these traumatic things and not want to die themself?
“You must be Kara.” She greeted.
“Yes, Ma’am.” Kara nodded. “Would you like me to help you sit down?”
“I may have aged, Kara, but I am not incompetent.” She chuckled as she scooted into the booth. “I know you are wondering why we’re meeting out in a secluded diner in the middle of nowhere.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Kara nodded.
“I know what people in the city think of me, of my situation. They like to coddle the less fortunate, and I’m not one for burdening others,” Her voice spoke with gracefulness and ease.
“I think you’ll find people in the city are much less cynical from when you were there last.” Kara explained.
“A person’s appearance can be deceiving.” The woman replied slyly. “I suppose you want to know the story. That’s the main reason for this interview, right? You can to the source to find out if the rumors are true.”
“That’s the main basis of my paper, yes.” Kara nodded.
“I suppose I should start at the beginning then.” The old woman smiled. “And please, stop calling Ma’am. It sounds so informal. Call me Anne.”
“Yes Ma’am…I mean, Anne.” Kara corrected herself.
“Let’s start from the beginning, then.” The gray haired lady smiled. “Once upon a time, there lived a woman named Buffy Summers…”
***
“…who lived in a big city called Los Angeles, also known as the city of Angels.”
Buffy stepped out of the car to stare at the building that was Hemery High. It was more like a solid brick prison, but without the groping guards and the wired fence.
She gave a nod to the driver, who left her there with her bag to walk into her new school. She received unearthly stares as she walked, like she was royalty or had a splotch on her face.
Twenty minutes and twelve confusing halls later, Buffy reached the administrative office. She scrunched her nose slightly and opened the door to the office.
“Hey, how can I help you?” An older, southern woman asked her.
“I’m actually new here. Today’s my first day.” Buffy explained. “Ummm, I think I’m supposed to get my class schedule here or something.”
“You’re Buffy Summers, right?” She drawled.
“You’re either a psychic or I’m the only new face in town.” Buffy chuckled slightly at the joke.
“The latter.” The woman spoke, the joke clearly lost upon her. “Do you need any help finding your classes.”
“That’d be greatly appreciated, thank you.” Buffy nodded in agreement.
“Willow!” the woman called to her office assistant.
A redheaded teenager, about the same age as Buffy herself stumbled in from the backroom. The teen was wearing red overalls and a sweatshirt that hung loosely around her waist. She smiled happily at Buffy.
“Sorry, Miss Jesop. You must be new, right? Hi, I’m Willow.” The redhead replied meekly.
“Buffy Summers.” Buffy held out her hand.
“You have Mr. Carver first period?”
“Yes, I do, as a matter of fact.”
“Good, I’ll walk you there then.” Willow remarked, grabbing her backpack as they headed out into the crowded halls. “You have to forgive me if I run on. We just don’t get a lot of new faces around here. And when we do, they’re usually hormonal jocks wanting to cop a feel.”
“It’s all right, really.” Buffy remarked.
“So, you’re from New York? What’s it like there? Does Times Square really light up at Christmastime like everyone says? And are there really ice skating rinks made of actual ice or is it just sort of an ice based mold, and you’re supposed to stop me when I do that.” Willow blushed.
“New York is…well, for lack of a better term, fast paced.” Buffy chuckled nervously. “It’s also really very lonely. Your friends are based on your social status, and most of them are insipid Manhattan debutantes who’d rather lounge around and spend Daddy’s money all day than actually going to school, or even getting a job.”
“So, why’d you move to Los Angeles, then?” Willow pondered.
“My parents decided that they couldn’t take on the task of parenting me any more, so they sent me to live with my aunt and uncle here.” Buffy replied.
“Wow. That’s harsh.”
“Nah, they weren’t around much anyway.” Buffy looked away. “And when they were, they were too busy boozing it up with caviar and chardonnay to even notice me.”
“And your aunt and uncle? Do they mind having you here?” Willow beamed.
“No. They never had any children of their own, so I think they’re living the parenting dream life.” Buffy smiled.
Willow frowned sullenly and Buffy turned to the side to see what was the cause of the sudden doom and gloom on her face. A tall, designer dressed, brunette teen strutted down the hall, along with her entouragé of groupies. The brunette faked a smile as she made her way towards Buffy and Willow themselves.
“You must be Buffy Summers, I’m Cordelia Chase. We haven’t been properly introduced.” Cordelia faked a giggle and frowned. “And I see you’ve met Willow.”
“Yeah, she’s been great.” Buffy smiled sweetly. “Helping me around, you know. It’s nice to meet you…well, all of you.”
“Listen, Buffy. A bunch of us are getting together Friday night, going to the weekly football game and going out for dinner afterwards. You’re welcome to join us.” Cordelia smiled brightly.
“Sure, I’d be happy to make it, but only if Willow comes too.” Buffy promised.
“I’m sure Willow has better things to do than come to a football game, right Will?” Cordelia asked, emphasizing her name to get her message across.
“Football isn’t really my thing, Buffy. You should go, though. Get to know everyone. Cordelia is the It Girl in this town.” Willow replied.
“Okay, yeah, I’ll be there.” Buffy nodded and watched as Cordelia and her groupies walked away moments later.
“Why do you let her do that to you?” Buffy asked as she turned around.
“Do what? Pick on me, order me around like I’m one of her little puppy dogs?” Willow asked. “We all have to do things we don’t like, Buffy. And being Cordelia’s lackey gets me by in this school. If you want to make it here, you’ll become friends with her and fast. She’s not ruler of the school because of her sweet and innocent facade, you know.”
The two walked in silence the rest of the way to their classes. They parted ways, and briefly spoke in the halls the next few weeks. Buffy became accustomed to hanging out with Cordelia and her brand of Cordettes and soon became one herself, becoming insipid and shallow, like those Manhattan debutantes she’d despised back in New York.
***
“So, what happened? Did she stay that way?” Kara broke Anne out of her story. “Did Buffy just continue to let Cordelia rule her life like that?”
“Patience is a virtue.” Anne told her. “You wanted to hear the store, dear.”
“Sorry.” Kara apologized. “Please continue.”
“Very well.” Anne nodded. “Buffy didn’t know how to stop letting Cordelia control her. It’s not like she could backstab her, not with all her followers…She would have been a social misfit, and cast out to the wolves. The Chases owned everything her family had worked so hard to achieve. A good paying job, the status, a wholesome name in the community. It was only when Buffy met Angel O’Connor, that her spellbound trance of Cordelia’s wrath was broken free…”