“Buffy, are you all right?” he asked her, standing up and grabbing her arm to steady her. She was shaking like a leaf. She was also cold to the touch and considering it was quite warm in the room that was worrisome.
She looked at him with wild green eyes and he thought, Beautiful. She was quite striking; he'd thought so when he'd first clapped eyes on her. So very different from her sister. Dru was dark – dark hair, dark eyes—and Buffy was light – golden blond hair, and green eyes. Her skin knew the sun quite well it seemed, as she had a healthy golden tan. She looked warm to the touch, and perhaps under different circumstances, she would be. Dru had been pale, tall, and almost gangly, while Buffy was shorter, slender, but with womanly curves.
She shut her eyes and held onto his arm, steadying herself. “It’s gone,” she whispered.
“What’s gone?”
“The tapping.”
“Oh.”
“You didn’t hear it?”
“No.”
She released him suddenly as if he was burning her. She looked up at him, “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.”
"I'll bet this isn't what you came out here for." She eyed him warily and sat down. "Though, you were friends with my sister, so who knows."
"I admit I was curious to see if you had the same gift."
She snorted, "Stop calling it a gift."
"Your sister--"
"I'm not her and I don't consider it a gift. I consider it a burden, something I wish to be rid of."
"Maybe if you accepted it--"
"Maybe you should mind your own business," Buffy snapped. "That's what those who don't have it say. They wish they had it, or maybe they don't wish they had it, and instead are thankful they don't have it and someone else does. Those that don't have it just want to be able to use you for their own selfish purposes. They don't care what it does to you--"
"Do you think I only became your sister's friend to use her?" William asked, highly insulted. His anger was starting to rise. After all the things that Dru had told him about her "dear sister", William was beginning to find most of that to the contrary.
"I don't know you well enough to make that judgment, William," she said wearily.
"Perhaps you shouldn't stay then."
Buffy's head jerked up. "Oh?"
"Why should you? You'd only be defaming her good name--"
"Why? Because I don't want to sell myself out as some kind of sideshow freak for the populace--"
"She helped people!" William nearly roared. "She was a good woman that wanted to help people. You're just a... pampered princess!"
She bounded to her feet, her eyes flashing, and he thought, Breathtaking.
"I am not a pampered princess. I've had to work for everything I have. Some might say Dru was the pampered one, getting this house--"
"She also lost a lot when her husband died and had to go without. It didn't make her as callous and cold as you seem to be. She still wanted to help."
"Well throw her a goddamn party and celebrate the fucking thing that killed her!" Buffy shouted. "See yourself out," she said over her shoulder and stomped off, slamming the door behind her.
William stood in the center of the room, completely bewildered. What had just happened? How had their conversation gone so terribly wrong? It wasn't supposed to happen that way. He'd promised Dru he'd get her to stay. He promised her that he'd help Buffy find her place. Dru saw a bad outcome for Buffy if she stayed on the path she was on. Saw destruction and pain, and she had even hinted at Buffy being killed horrifically. She'd begged William to make Buffy stay, to keep her on the straight and narrow. William wasn't sure what she'd meant by that, Buffy Summers seemed as if she wouldn't know a wild time if it came up and bit her in the ass. And, something about her told him that she wouldn't take too kindly to knowing that Dru had asked him all of this after she was dead.
"Miss Buffy--" Edina was hot on her heels after she'd slammed the door shut on William.
Buffy whirled around, "I told you--- never mind. Look, I just want to be left alone, okay?"
Edina nodded and looked down at the ground, clearly hurt and yet wanting to make Buffy happy.
Growling, Buffy tore up to her room before the tears came and everyone in the free world knew that she, the Ice Queen, was crying.
Last week, she'd known exactly what she was doing and where she was headed. Then, news came of her sister's death -- an aneurism in her sleep -- and life had gone downhill from there. Her mother had called, and Buffy still remembered the chill in her voice.
"Yes, hello dear. Your sister is dead."
Buffy gripped the phone, feeling her world plummeting, "What?"
"She died in her sleep. Since her last wish was to have her body cremated and scattered across the Pacific, her body will be transported. Your father and I will be making arrangements for a memorial. You're welcome to come."
"I'm welcome to come? This isn't a formal party here, mother, this is Dru. Your daughter. My sister. God, can't you be a mother for once in your li--"
Her mother had hung up on her. Such was the way it had always been, and now Dru, the only real family she’d ever known was gone. She was gone and Buffy was alone in the world. She had felt the loss heavily and fought hard to keep the fallout at bay. She had to keep it together, she had to keep moving, keep going, and keep trying. She couldn’t fall apart.
Dru was ten years older than she, and as soon as she’d turned eighteen, she moved out of the cold environment they’d grown up in. She’d tried to get custody of Buffy, but that had ended in a shambles where Buffy was not allowed to see Dru for many, many years. In fact, she hadn’t seen her until she was sixteen and had contacted her secretly. After Buffy had moved out of her parent’s home, she’d moved in for a spell with Dru on the east coast where she attended college, studying art history. It was in Rhode Island that Dru had met her future husband, and it was shortly thereafter that she’d moved to England. Buffy understood all too well – get as far away as you can from Mom and Dad.
After school was done, Buffy landed a job in a museum in California and taught art history at night for Berkley. She still stayed as far away as she could from her parents. She worked hard for everything she had, saving her money like a squirrel, never once asking for help from the people that would never give it to her to begin with. She’d gone to school on scholarships and had worked her way through college, Dru insisted that she put money aside for a place of her own once school was finished, and that’s exactly what she’d done.
When she could, she’d gone out to visit her sister, Dru always being the one to send for her. At the young age of thirty-nine, her sister had passed, and now Buffy, age twenty-nine, had no one. She had a mansion, a bunch of memories, a hidden ‘talent’ for seeing the dead that she didn’t want, and anger at the world for taking her sister from her. Not to mention the anger she felt with herself for not having made it out to see Dru for the past four years, her busy life too hectic to have made the time.
She was thankful that she’d at least gone peacefully. She wished though, that she had gotten the chance to say goodbye to her; even if that meant visiting her and telling her as a specter. It seemed though that her sister had found other ways to communicate. Her estate had been left to her. It was all up to her now. Buffy just didn’t know what she wanted to do with it, if she wanted it at all. So, she’d gone on sabbatical from teaching and had taken an extensive vacation from work to come out to England and make arrangements. Arrangements for her life.
Buffy flung herself on her bed and had herself a good cry, the cry that had been vaulted up inside her since the funeral. She sobbed out her frustration and her anger and soon, cried herself to sleep, and had herself a dreamless sleep to rest her tired mind.