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: Prologue :
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Their eyes were the same. Mirrored orbs of pain, time, weariness, and a lack of innocence rivaled by only Hell itself. The road less traveled well-trodden by the both of them. Looking into them, Buffy could've sworn they were her own... save for the insanity.
Dana recognized her the moment she walked in, the red bulb flashing outside the door to indicate their session had begun. The psychiatric ward was stereotypically sterile, but Dana's room was red with the blood shed from her self-inflicted injuries. Spatter the blood, help the dreams become reality, prove her own sanity.
She knew Buffy as if not only her eyes belonged to her, but Buffy's soul as well. Buffy
was her. And she wondered, if Dana indeed saw what Buffy had seen, did she see herself now, broken and battered, hands slipping from the tiny wire she clung to, stringing her between their plane and that of Dante's vision of the Inferno. That which deceived her for all of her years - what couldn't be more than a few over twenty - but claimed to be decades and centuries and eons. How long ago was the first slayer?
"Hello." Emotionless. "How are you doing?"
"Hello." Emotionless. "How are
you doing?"
"I think you know." When Buffy sat, so did Dana. When Buffy held her gaze, Dana held it tighter. She twitched every once in a while. Buffy assumed the onslaught of slayer memories never eased up. Did they still mesh with her own? Was it different in the presence of a fellow slayer that under the supposed enemy's eyes?
Speaks well when not threatened. "Do you see me, Dana?"
"You mean nothing to me. I'm just using you. I believe in you. I love you."
"Who are you speaking to, Dana? Who are you speaking as?"
Dana reached for her stake and found nothing. "Never trust those who run with vampires. Fucking the enemy. Heart and head."
"You saw Angel in Los Angeles. Remember Angel, Dana." Buffy wasn't asking.
"You fucked he who took our lives twice. Won't hurt us again."
Without another word, Buffy stood and backed out, keeping their gazes locked. Dana was not one to turn your back on. Andrew watched from the two-sided mirror. She had been his find, another step toward Watcher-dom. And how better to prove yourself worthy than with a clinically-insane Slayer? "Angel...?" he lied.
"Spike."
"W-why?"
"His memories must be more painful since he caused more damage to the Slayer lineage. Vivid, regarding the two Slayers he killed. You say she mentioned them back in LA? His victims?" Andrew nodded. "She's reliving them. She knows I know."
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To Be continued... Chapter 1: Two of Us
Author's Note: The drama! The suspense! The crap for crap! The incesant waiting for the Spuffy goodness! Turn the page now before you simultaneously implode, self-destruct, and spontaneously-combust!
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