// Sunglasses
Disclaimer: The characters of Bones and Buffy are not mine and belong to Twentieth Century Fox, Warner Bros., Mutant Enemy. They are used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
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Feedback is incredibly welcome.
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Bones sometime during S1; Buffy post-"Chosen." Booth and Buffy: sometimes it's not about the sun. For Grimorie; PG.
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Buffy wasn't the only person wearing sunglasses in the rain. She rather liked the rain, but she liked the sunglasses, too. Besides, it took too much effort to put them away. Instead, she leaned back beneath a dubious overhang and watched the water fall.
"I just flew over from sunny Italy," Buffy informed the man with the sunglasses. "What's your excuse?"
He took them off. She started. Was it--? No--the body language was all wrong. Also, he looked like he had a pulse. She could see it in his neck. All that Slayer training meant sometimes she thought like a vampire, something she'd never like about herself but had come to terms with.
Take it easy, she told herself. You don't know anything, and your spider sense isn't sensing anything but the weirdness of life.
The man said, "No excuse." He had an easy smile, crinkles around his eyes. That was the other thing: he looked like he knew what it was like to age, really age. "Buy you a drink?"
She looked at the sky. He followed her gaze. Buffy said, "Don't you think the city's got enough drinking going on?" It wasn't a matter of trust, just--"It's not you. But I want to stand and enjoy being here." Being out of Sunnydale, being back in the States--Dawn had an internship here. Being alive.
"I have days like that," said the man. Now there was something that reminded her more of Angel, that undertone of things regretted, things unforgotten, things left unsaid.
They stood like that for a while, neither alone.
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