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My Immortal. Chapter 15.
Hello there! I have fic for you. :) Life is... well, there's all this family everywhere, all the time, and some of them are poorly, so my on-line time is a bit limited, hence me grabbing this opportunity to post now! As always lots of thank you's to my ever-lovely beta, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kathyh, who catches my stupid mistakes.
Previous chapters here.
Summary: Captain Jack *is* The Immortal.
Pairing: Buffy/Jack.
Rating: PG-13.
Spoilers: S2 of Torchwood. ETA: CoE spoilers in comments. Beware.
Genre: Crossover. (BtVS/Torchwood)
Word count: 1750 words.
Feedback: Will be petted and loved forever.
Chapter 15
Lindsey (to Angel): This is gonna be a circus. I mean, win or lose, you're about to pick the nastiest fight since mankind drop-kicked the last demon out of this dimension.
Thursday 20th of May, predawn.
Radiating smugness was a good look for Buffy, Jack thought, watching her saunter into his largest sitting room as though she owned the place. Of course most looks suited her, most especially Fighting Nasty Things Whilst Wearing Very Tight Leather Trousers, which tonight had been all about.
Tucking her stake into a pocket she smirked at him, and he grinned back.
“OK, you win. That was brilliant. I should have come patrolling with you every night, and I have been a fool for saying no until now. Although... I really ought to have brought a camera to... uh... preserve your valiant efforts for posterity.”
Her only response was to raise an eyebrow - eloquently communicating that she knew exactly what he’d use such a tape for, and his grin deepened.
“Sorry Princess, but there’s not a man alive in the world who wouldn’t find you hot when you fight. You give Sex on Legs a whole new meaning!”
She pretended not to care about the compliment, but he knew her well enough by now to catch the twinkle in her eyes... Oh it had been a night well spent, even though they were both pretty knackered and shagged-out now.
Then there was a muffed bleating, and Buffy dug through her pockets until she discovered where she had hidden her mobile. Lifting it to her ear she shot him an exasperated look, and he mimed ‘Do you want me to leave?’ to which she shook her head vehemently. Smiling, he couldn’t help anticipating the verbal dressing-down that would surely follow.
But the expression on her face swiftly changed to alarm and deep concentration, as she listened intently, nodding now and again.
“OK... Thank you, Giles. Yes, I’m on my way... Andrew’s getting tickets?... Good... Yeah, OK. Bye.”
Ending the call she slowly lifted her eyes, and it was as if a different woman was looking back at him.
“That was Giles. He... he said that something’s happened in LA. They only have very preliminary reports, but the W&H building has pretty much collapsed and there’s apparently some kind of battle going on, and they can’t get hold of any of Angel’s team...”
Thinking as swiftly as he could, Jack held up a hand. “Just... hang on. I’ll see if I can get an inside word.”
Pulling out his own phone he called up Ilona’s office, getting hold of her PA who was apparently having a nervous breakdown. Jack wished he could kick him, although he was sure Ilona’s ire would be far more substantial. (If he ever managed to find a suitable PA of his own, s/he would have to be made of sterner stuff, that was for sure).
“Listen, you little waste of space - get me Ilona on the line now, or I’ll lock you up in the Room of Pain for the next century, understood!”
But Ilona (sounding thoroughly shaken for the first time he could remember) didn’t have much to tell him either, except to confirm his initial suspicions.
Having said goodbye, he looked at Buffy again.
“Trojan Horse.”
“What?”
Her eyes, so wide and worried... and there was nothing he could do to soothe her. Quite the opposite in fact.
“Angel. His whole CEO thing... it would appear to have been a Trojan Horse affair. He’s done something... something really, really big to injure the Senior Partners. He’s been... what’s the term? Fighting from inside the belly of the beast.”
“But - but that means- I told him I didn’t trust him...”
He could see the sudden realisation, her distress at having misjudged so badly, and he reached out and took hold of her arms, forcing her to look up at him.
“Listen, it was the only thing you could have done. If you’d been friendly, it would have been suspicious, understood?” He had to fight not to shake her to prove his point.
“Buffy. Don’t beat yourself up, promise me. He wouldn’t have wanted that.”
She nodded, and he hoped that his words got through - the last thing she needed was to start blaming herself for whatever foolhardy and suicidal mission Angel had chosen for himself.
For a moment there was silence, then she slowly shook her head.
“I’m going to be too late,” she whispered, eyes haunted, and he reached up and brushed a lock off her face, his memory playing out a scene he wished he could forget.
New Year, dead bodies, incomprehension and despair and ‘My gift to you Jack’...
“Sometimes,” he said, trying his best to keep his voice level, but not succeeding entirely, “sometimes all you can do is pick up the pieces...”
And it wasn’t fair, when it was someone else who had broken things - leaving you with only blood and pain and memories and ‘if only’s. He dearly, dearly wished she could have been spared this.
She nodded, softly, before pulling herself together before his eyes. The lost, distressed girl metamorphosed into The Slayer, ready for dealing with anything. There was no mask, no deliberate detachment - the steely determination and bravery were quite simply part of who she was: She’d been through crucibles and come out stronger. He wanted to be her so badly it hurt.
“I have to go - Andrew is sorting out plane tickets for us...”
“Do you want a lift?” he asked, wishing for something - anything - he could do to help, but she shook her head.
“My moped is still here, I’ll be fine.”
“OK.”
They stood still for a moment, his hand still on her arm, but she didn’t move.
“I... I don’t know how long I’ll be... Will you still be here when I come back?”
He shook his head.
“No. I’m all done - should have left already, actually, but...” he didn’t quite know how to continue, figuring that she’d probably know what he meant.
“So this is goodbye?” her eyes were huge and dark, and he nodded, before letting go of her and taking half a step back, catching her hand and lifting it to his lips for a solemn kiss.
“Miss Summers - it has been an honour.”
She suddenly looked as if she was about to burst into tears, biting her lip and swallowing. Then she grabbed hold of him, pulling him down and capturing his mouth with her own.
The kiss was deep, almost desperate in its bright intensity... like kissing sunshine, he thought dimly, falling into her for the last time.
When she finally pulled away, breathless, she took a shaky breath, looking deep into his eyes.
“Thank you. Thank you... for everything.”
Then she turned abruptly and ran, leaving him to listen to her footsteps echo through the house before the large front door opened and then shut.
And she was gone.
“Thank you”, he whispered, before slowly sinking down onto the sofa, staring into nothingness.
He’d known it would end - the fact that it would end was a large part of what had made it work. But the ending wasn’t supposed to go like this...
Damn Angel. For the first time he felt true anger when thinking about the vampire. Which was ironic since by now the other was probably dust. Along with Spike...
Taking a deep breath he let his head fall back, wondering if he’d ever learn to stay out of other people’s affairs. Wrestling with the dilemma of telling Buffy or not - to respect her right to know versus Spike’s right to silence; weighing the pain of a relationship with an immortal against a love lost - he’d not really stopped to think that he shouldn’t have stuck his nose where it didn’t belong in the first place.
The lesson was clear: Don’t get involved. Don’t ask questions. Because once you knew, you were implicated - if Buffy ever discovered that he’d kept Spike’s return from her she’d be furious, and rightly so.
Well, maybe it was for the best that they’d never meet again. She’d always been out of his league, all he could hope for was that she never discovered just how far.
He sighed, and got to his feet.
Walking through the house he said a silent farewell, although without his golden girl around it felt dead already. Standing in the ballroom he recalled Buffy’s friendly hostility just a couple of months ago; her radiance a few days before... As he watched, the first rays of morning light filtered through the windows, and he sighed. Fairy tales never survived the harsh light of day.
He ended up in his office, as always, settling into the chair and pulling the wrist strap out from a drawer and fastening it. Time to be Torchwood again.
It felt like a prison sentence... Or maybe more like being a jailer? After all he was in charge now.
Leaning back in the chair he studied the portrait on the wall. This was how they saw him, he knew. Handsome, ageless, mysterious... had anyone other than Buffy ever begun to understand that the image on the wall was as impenetrable to himself as to anyone else?
What lay behind the charming, carefree, mirror-familiar smile? Would future-he finally get things right (be free), or had the mask finally hardened completely? In some ways he felt as lost as he had the first time he came here - his future self had kept all his cards held tight to his chest.
He shuddered slightly and got up. He’d miss this place, but it had never been home, just somewhere to lose himself until he regained some strength...
And he knew this time he wouldn’t be coming back. Over the last few weeks he had carefully stored every detail he would need on the wrist strap’s database, for when he’d set the whole thing up one day (his future, their past...). Sometimes time travel was a bitch, but he still felt affection for the lost young man he’d been when he’d first been hailed by Antonio all those years ago...
‘Enjoy the alias’ indeed. Although ‘Grasp the refuge’ would really have been more appropriate.
A swift goodbye to the servants with no promised date of return was all that was left. ‘The Immortal’ would slowly fade away into myth, origin and fate as obscure as each other.
As an ending he thought it rather fitting.
Epilogue.
kathyh, who catches my stupid mistakes. Previous chapters here.
Summary: Captain Jack *is* The Immortal.
Pairing: Buffy/Jack.
Rating: PG-13.
Spoilers: S2 of Torchwood. ETA: CoE spoilers in comments. Beware.
Genre: Crossover. (BtVS/Torchwood)
Word count: 1750 words.
Feedback: Will be petted and loved forever.
Lindsey (to Angel): This is gonna be a circus. I mean, win or lose, you're about to pick the nastiest fight since mankind drop-kicked the last demon out of this dimension.
Thursday 20th of May, predawn.
Radiating smugness was a good look for Buffy, Jack thought, watching her saunter into his largest sitting room as though she owned the place. Of course most looks suited her, most especially Fighting Nasty Things Whilst Wearing Very Tight Leather Trousers, which tonight had been all about.
Tucking her stake into a pocket she smirked at him, and he grinned back.
“OK, you win. That was brilliant. I should have come patrolling with you every night, and I have been a fool for saying no until now. Although... I really ought to have brought a camera to... uh... preserve your valiant efforts for posterity.”
Her only response was to raise an eyebrow - eloquently communicating that she knew exactly what he’d use such a tape for, and his grin deepened.
“Sorry Princess, but there’s not a man alive in the world who wouldn’t find you hot when you fight. You give Sex on Legs a whole new meaning!”
She pretended not to care about the compliment, but he knew her well enough by now to catch the twinkle in her eyes... Oh it had been a night well spent, even though they were both pretty knackered and shagged-out now.
Then there was a muffed bleating, and Buffy dug through her pockets until she discovered where she had hidden her mobile. Lifting it to her ear she shot him an exasperated look, and he mimed ‘Do you want me to leave?’ to which she shook her head vehemently. Smiling, he couldn’t help anticipating the verbal dressing-down that would surely follow.
But the expression on her face swiftly changed to alarm and deep concentration, as she listened intently, nodding now and again.
“OK... Thank you, Giles. Yes, I’m on my way... Andrew’s getting tickets?... Good... Yeah, OK. Bye.”
Ending the call she slowly lifted her eyes, and it was as if a different woman was looking back at him.
“That was Giles. He... he said that something’s happened in LA. They only have very preliminary reports, but the W&H building has pretty much collapsed and there’s apparently some kind of battle going on, and they can’t get hold of any of Angel’s team...”
Thinking as swiftly as he could, Jack held up a hand. “Just... hang on. I’ll see if I can get an inside word.”
Pulling out his own phone he called up Ilona’s office, getting hold of her PA who was apparently having a nervous breakdown. Jack wished he could kick him, although he was sure Ilona’s ire would be far more substantial. (If he ever managed to find a suitable PA of his own, s/he would have to be made of sterner stuff, that was for sure).
“Listen, you little waste of space - get me Ilona on the line now, or I’ll lock you up in the Room of Pain for the next century, understood!”
But Ilona (sounding thoroughly shaken for the first time he could remember) didn’t have much to tell him either, except to confirm his initial suspicions.
Having said goodbye, he looked at Buffy again.
“Trojan Horse.”
“What?”
Her eyes, so wide and worried... and there was nothing he could do to soothe her. Quite the opposite in fact.
“Angel. His whole CEO thing... it would appear to have been a Trojan Horse affair. He’s done something... something really, really big to injure the Senior Partners. He’s been... what’s the term? Fighting from inside the belly of the beast.”
“But - but that means- I told him I didn’t trust him...”
He could see the sudden realisation, her distress at having misjudged so badly, and he reached out and took hold of her arms, forcing her to look up at him.
“Listen, it was the only thing you could have done. If you’d been friendly, it would have been suspicious, understood?” He had to fight not to shake her to prove his point.
“Buffy. Don’t beat yourself up, promise me. He wouldn’t have wanted that.”
She nodded, and he hoped that his words got through - the last thing she needed was to start blaming herself for whatever foolhardy and suicidal mission Angel had chosen for himself.
For a moment there was silence, then she slowly shook her head.
“I’m going to be too late,” she whispered, eyes haunted, and he reached up and brushed a lock off her face, his memory playing out a scene he wished he could forget.
New Year, dead bodies, incomprehension and despair and ‘My gift to you Jack’...
“Sometimes,” he said, trying his best to keep his voice level, but not succeeding entirely, “sometimes all you can do is pick up the pieces...”
And it wasn’t fair, when it was someone else who had broken things - leaving you with only blood and pain and memories and ‘if only’s. He dearly, dearly wished she could have been spared this.
She nodded, softly, before pulling herself together before his eyes. The lost, distressed girl metamorphosed into The Slayer, ready for dealing with anything. There was no mask, no deliberate detachment - the steely determination and bravery were quite simply part of who she was: She’d been through crucibles and come out stronger. He wanted to be her so badly it hurt.
“I have to go - Andrew is sorting out plane tickets for us...”
“Do you want a lift?” he asked, wishing for something - anything - he could do to help, but she shook her head.
“My moped is still here, I’ll be fine.”
“OK.”
They stood still for a moment, his hand still on her arm, but she didn’t move.
“I... I don’t know how long I’ll be... Will you still be here when I come back?”
He shook his head.
“No. I’m all done - should have left already, actually, but...” he didn’t quite know how to continue, figuring that she’d probably know what he meant.
“So this is goodbye?” her eyes were huge and dark, and he nodded, before letting go of her and taking half a step back, catching her hand and lifting it to his lips for a solemn kiss.
“Miss Summers - it has been an honour.”
She suddenly looked as if she was about to burst into tears, biting her lip and swallowing. Then she grabbed hold of him, pulling him down and capturing his mouth with her own.
The kiss was deep, almost desperate in its bright intensity... like kissing sunshine, he thought dimly, falling into her for the last time.
When she finally pulled away, breathless, she took a shaky breath, looking deep into his eyes.
“Thank you. Thank you... for everything.”
Then she turned abruptly and ran, leaving him to listen to her footsteps echo through the house before the large front door opened and then shut.
And she was gone.
“Thank you”, he whispered, before slowly sinking down onto the sofa, staring into nothingness.
He’d known it would end - the fact that it would end was a large part of what had made it work. But the ending wasn’t supposed to go like this...
Damn Angel. For the first time he felt true anger when thinking about the vampire. Which was ironic since by now the other was probably dust. Along with Spike...
Taking a deep breath he let his head fall back, wondering if he’d ever learn to stay out of other people’s affairs. Wrestling with the dilemma of telling Buffy or not - to respect her right to know versus Spike’s right to silence; weighing the pain of a relationship with an immortal against a love lost - he’d not really stopped to think that he shouldn’t have stuck his nose where it didn’t belong in the first place.
The lesson was clear: Don’t get involved. Don’t ask questions. Because once you knew, you were implicated - if Buffy ever discovered that he’d kept Spike’s return from her she’d be furious, and rightly so.
Well, maybe it was for the best that they’d never meet again. She’d always been out of his league, all he could hope for was that she never discovered just how far.
He sighed, and got to his feet.
Walking through the house he said a silent farewell, although without his golden girl around it felt dead already. Standing in the ballroom he recalled Buffy’s friendly hostility just a couple of months ago; her radiance a few days before... As he watched, the first rays of morning light filtered through the windows, and he sighed. Fairy tales never survived the harsh light of day.
He ended up in his office, as always, settling into the chair and pulling the wrist strap out from a drawer and fastening it. Time to be Torchwood again.
It felt like a prison sentence... Or maybe more like being a jailer? After all he was in charge now.
Leaning back in the chair he studied the portrait on the wall. This was how they saw him, he knew. Handsome, ageless, mysterious... had anyone other than Buffy ever begun to understand that the image on the wall was as impenetrable to himself as to anyone else?
What lay behind the charming, carefree, mirror-familiar smile? Would future-he finally get things right (be free), or had the mask finally hardened completely? In some ways he felt as lost as he had the first time he came here - his future self had kept all his cards held tight to his chest.
He shuddered slightly and got up. He’d miss this place, but it had never been home, just somewhere to lose himself until he regained some strength...
And he knew this time he wouldn’t be coming back. Over the last few weeks he had carefully stored every detail he would need on the wrist strap’s database, for when he’d set the whole thing up one day (his future, their past...). Sometimes time travel was a bitch, but he still felt affection for the lost young man he’d been when he’d first been hailed by Antonio all those years ago...
‘Enjoy the alias’ indeed. Although ‘Grasp the refuge’ would really have been more appropriate.
A swift goodbye to the servants with no promised date of return was all that was left. ‘The Immortal’ would slowly fade away into myth, origin and fate as obscure as each other.
As an ending he thought it rather fitting.
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YES THERE WILL BE A SEQUEL!!!!
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(Yes, I have loved this story to itty bitty pieces and I am not ready to let it go. Especially with Children of Earth and everything, it puts a whole new spin on it all... even if the idea of Jack EVER moving on from Ianto would have half of Twood fandom up in arms, even if it was to a non-canonical ex. I think they also forget the whole "omnisexual flirts/sleeps with everything that moves (and some things that don't)" part at times)
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Hee! Well you can thank my over-imaginative plot bunnies for utterly refusing to let this story go...
Yes, I have loved this story to itty bitty pieces and I am not ready to let it go.
Aw, thank you! *squish*
Especially with Children of Earth and everything, it puts a whole new spin on it all...
Oh yes. (One reason I loved CoE so much was that it gave me an ending I could work into this story. Although I adore this 'verse, knowing how to finish it - for good - is a great relief.) But there's quite a few stories to tell first... *g*
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*anxious face*
*really needs an epilogue*
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*happy face*
I've actually got a draft done already (short chapters, how I love thee), so it shouldn't be too long. (Presuming I can get peace and quiet to work!)
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Poor Jack! Poor Buffy! I want to hug them both. This was the perfect ending to this, and there were so many great lines that I would end up posting the whole chapter if I would try and list them all. The way this ended made sense for both of them, since a happy ending wouldn't have been true to either character, despite how much the readers may want one. Thanks so much for sharing this.
PS: Thanks for the spoiler warning for the comments, since I haven't had a chance to sit down and watch CoE yet. Stupid RL. And hopefully LJ won't eat this comment.
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I *know*!
Poor Jack! Poor Buffy! I want to hug them both.
They sure need it...
This was the perfect ending to this, and there were so many great lines that I would end up posting the whole chapter if I would try and list them all.
Aw, thank you. And I always wanted to use NFA as the final thing - and also to just leave it there, so we don't know Angel & co's fate. (I'm such a canon whore...)
The way this ended made sense for both of them, since a happy ending wouldn't have been true to either character, despite how much the readers may want one.
Well it is a happy ending within a sad one... neither of them dies, or 'leaves for the other's good' or runs away because they can't deal. So of all of Buffy's break-ups it's probably the least traumatic.
Thanks so much for sharing this.
Thank *you* for reading!
Thanks for the spoiler warning for the comments
As a spoiler-phobe I am hypersensitive to these things... Hope RL will let you have some peace & quiet soon!
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*hugs*
Want to hug the Immortal!
And you know, it's like the relationship helped Buffy grow - way better characterization for her than the comics canon! :P
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Aw, thank you! *blushes* *then hugs back*
Want to hug the Immortal!
Oh me too! Lots!
And you know, it's like the relationship helped Buffy grow - way better characterization for her than the comics canon! :P
::snerk:: And the comics are *filthy* things! We will speak of them no more! ;)
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What I particularly love about this story is that you balance skillfully between supernatural soap-opera and heroic epic and never give preference to any genre. Buffy and Jack are larger-than-life heroes - yet you make their private life fascinating. Their story is romantic - but it's interrupted by epic, global events.
Stellar job.
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*hands over tissues*
What I particularly love about this story is that you balance skillfully between supernatural soap-opera and heroic epic and never give preference to any genre.
Oooh, you know I never saw it in those terms (so what-ever I've done is totally accidental), but now you said it... Well, thank you, I guess. :)
Buffy and Jack are larger-than-life heroes - yet you make their private life fascinating. Their story is romantic - but it's interrupted by epic, global events.
I guess it's the balancing act of any super hero, but Jack and Buffy very deliberately set out to create a space apart from their world-saving. Unfortunately, as they knew entirely too well, world-saving does tend to interrupt far too often...
Stellar job.
Aw, thanks! ::beams::
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Now that's not to say I'm not eager to read the epilogue, I most definitely am, I just wanted to let you know that this last chapter was so beautifully done that I'm already content.
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How could I possibly take such a compliment the wrong way? *cherishes*
Now that's not to say I'm not eager to read the epilogue, I most definitely am, I just wanted to let you know that this last chapter was so beautifully done that I'm already content.
Also, you really know what to say to make a writer all tongue-tied. Um... the epilogue is very much an epilogue, by which I mean that this *is* the end of Buffy/Jack. Which all sounds very weird, probably, but I hope you'll see what I mean. Oh and thank you. Lots and lots and lots.
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:)
It's heartbreaking but I still feel hopeful, though I can't put a finger on why.
I think it might be because they knew the relationship would only ever be temporary... Of course the fact that NFA was what determined the specific time of the 'break-up' (rather than a moment of their own choosing) is unfortunate, and painful, but Jack is able to help her deal in those first few moments, and perfectly ready to let her go.
By any chance, would you mind saying at what point in the series the sequel takes place?
Um... sorta all over the place? The sequel will be a series of inter-connected standalones rather than one long story, so... kinda from here and until (and including) CoE. Does that help?
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Yeah, thanks. I was just curious, since I'm kind of a spoiler-phile.
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Back to the front lines for Jack.
I wonder if Spike and Buffy reunite after this... Anyway I look forward to the epilogue.
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*beams* Thank you - it felt like the natural place to leave them, right on the very edge of BtVS/AtS canon.
Love the emotions Buffy goes through so quickly and then Jack knows what she's feeling because he's has felt something like it before.
To me that was always their main connection - that they both lived the same sort of lives, and therefore to a great extent understood each other.
Back to the front lines for Jack.
Indeed. No wonder he tried to stay in Rome as long as possible...
I wonder if Spike and Buffy reunite after this...
Well since no one knows who (if any) made it out of that alley alive, I won't make any assumptions. (Not in this fic - the sequel is a different matter of course. But I like to stay strictly within canon when I can. *g*)
Anyway I look forward to the epilogue.
Thank you - am working on it!
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Though I'm anxious for the epilogue. Are Spike and Angel (you see my priorities here!) really dead in this 'verse? And what about Buffy in the UK? I'm looking forward to seeing where you take the sequel you promised above!
But still. Perfect ending!
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\o/
Though I'm anxious for the epilogue.
As it happens I'm already working on it. So... next week maybe?
Are Spike and Angel (you see my priorities here!) really dead in this 'verse? And what about Buffy in the UK? I'm looking forward to seeing where you take the sequel you promised above!
And you shall have to wait for the sequel to have any of those questions answered. *This* story I'm keeping strictly within (BtVS/AtS) canon!
But still. Perfect ending!
Thank you. I've had it worked out for a very long time now! Actually... if I remember correctly I think I dedicated this story to you, way back when I started it... *runs off to look* Yes I did! Little did I know what a gargantuan monster it'd turn into!
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:( indeed - what *has* been up with LJ today? ::kicks it::
Just wanted to say that I have thoroughly enjoyed this fic!
Thank you, lots and lots! (You know, I still squee whenever I see that you read my stuff.) Oh - you *did* read the previous chapter, right? I think you were away when I posted it.
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Loved these bits, especially, where Jack is momentarily humbled by who Buffy truly is:
...the steely determination and bravery were quite simply part of who she was: She’d been through crucibles and come out stronger. He wanted to be her so badly it hurt.
She’d always been out of his league, all he could hope for was that she never discovered just how far.
Excellent and compelling work, as always!
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Yes, this exactly.
I'm very much looking forward to the Epilogue.
I'm getting nervous now... I hope it'll live up to expectations!
Loved these bits, especially, where Jack is momentarily humbled by who Buffy truly is:
OMG you pulled out my own favourite lines! *squish*
Excellent and compelling work, as always!
Thank you! (And your fb always brightens my day. Or evening as the case might be. *g*)
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This last chapter was lovely, and beautiful and sad and fitting perfectly with the events and the characters. I really liked how you wrapped things up there.
I simply adored your Immortal.:)
Your characterization of Buffy was spot on and exactly how I imagine her during this period.Strong and vulnerable like we love her.
Wonderful job and your writing style has a subtle beauty that kept me riveted all along.
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Yes, I remember you being away - meant to mention it, I think, but holidays are busy things... Glad you found it by yourself! :)
This last chapter was lovely, and beautiful and sad and fitting perfectly with the events and the characters. I really liked how you wrapped things up there.
Thank you!!! Canon very helpfully provided the perfect break-off point, and it all just worked beautifully. (You did see the epilogue, right?)
I simply adored your Immortal.:)
Aw, thanks! Although he really isn't mine at all... *pets Jack* It was *wonderful* writing him though, he's an endlessly fascinating character.
Your characterization of Buffy was spot on and exactly how I imagine her during this period.Strong and vulnerable like we love her.
::beams:: Buffy can be tricky to write, but oddly enough I felt I had a very good grasp of her here. Strong and vulnerable is it in a nutshell, definitely.
Wonderful job and your writing style has a subtle beauty that kept me riveted all along.
You're making me blush! And thank you for taking a chance on this - I know it's always risky to read outside your comfort zone, I'm glad I made this work for you! *lots of hugs*