FIC: BTVS: 2117 (Section 0.5)

["cilia" <cilia@xxxxxxxxx>]

Hey all!
It's more of BTVS: 2117, now Buffy goes on late night through the
mansion contemplating the past and the present and ends up going to the
Diaries of Giles for answers, about how she died and what happened to the
her friends. She also wonders if we do get a second chance in life. Also I'm
not sure about what year Buffy was born so correct me if I'm wrong here.

POLL
Who's Willow Rose's great-grandfather?

1. Xander
2. Oz
3. Spike
4. Giles
5. Angel
6. Someone else from the show

Enjoy!
Cilia

BTVS: 2117
Cilia

Section 0.5

Buffy lay on the large bed curled up into a ball. Seeing the world she had
brought about and then the place where she died had left her unnerved an
yearning to know more. She'd died in a church. Strange she'd always thought
she'd die somewhere dark and alone. But maybe she had done just that. She
stood up and walked out into the darkened corridor.
Thinking about Willow Rose as she navigated through the
darkness. It was eerie how much this girl resembled her Willow. Still there
was slight difference, Willow Rose had redder hair, her eyes so blue that
they were almost black, her face sharper and her figure slimmer, but she
radiated care and warmth just like her Willow had always done.
I wonder who her great-grandfather was? Buffy thought.
She stepped into the hall of heroes as Willow Rose liked to call it.
This painting when was it made? she thought.
She looked up into the faces of the people she'd left behind, but still she
hadn't left them behind, she'd just split into.
"This is giving me a major headache," she murmured.
She walked out of the hall and towards Willow's room. She peeked through the
half open door. The red haired girl lay on her side facing away from her.
Do we really ever get a second chance? she thought.
She shook her head and walked downstairs into the living room. It was almost
if the house had been made to make her feel at home, no futuristic things,
well except for the holo-tv.
In the library she ran her hands over the old books that lined
its shelves, some of them were Giles's. She recognized them anywhere. She
searched for the Watcher diaries and there they were. Not a complete set,
but some had apparently survived. She picked up the last volume
and opened it at the last written page. She read:

The 19th of December 2018.
Today my Slayer died at the age of thirty-six. We found her body
lying in front of the altar. Spike was the one who discover it. It looked
like as she had been praying, then just closed her eyes and left us. We all
grieve this great loss, Willow the hardest.
The world is now without a Slayer and there will not be another.
It has been written and so shall it be. The threats are gone, the darkness
lies dormant and it will not arise again in my lifetime.
This will be my last entry in this book and it is my hope that this shall be
read and remembered. Some legends should never die.
Rupert Giles, Watcher.

Buffy closed the book and smiled.
"You were right Giles's some legends don't die," she said and
stroked the cover. She walked over to the window and looked out into the
moonless night. Then she felt it, the familiar cramps and a shadow moved
away from the house.
"I knew it," she cursed with a grin.