Fic: A Father's Love, Part 1: The Dream, 2/3 (FRT,genfic)

[hobgoblinn.livejournal.com]

x posted to summer_of_giles and hobgoblinn

Here's my second summer_of_giles posting day offering, a continuation of the first half of "A Father's Love." Find it here. Feel free to leave comments here or on fanfic.net-- anonymous reviews are enabled on my account. The rest of this section, which rounds out okay, will be up Friday the 25th, with more to follow after.

Thanks to ruuger for this great Giles icon, too. And for all who have read, commented and offered support and encouragement.

Business as Usual Chp 21

[lilachigh.livejournal.com]

Title: Business as Usual
Author: lilachigh
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Characters belong to ME except Agnes, who is mine.
Summary: In The Replacement, Spike mentions the lady who runs the tea-shop in the garbage dump. Please meet Agnes Pringle, English spinster and reluctant vampire. All Agnes wants is a quiet life but being Spike's friend, that is not likely to happen. The Apocalypse at the end of Season 5 has happened, just as Agnes learnt she had been left a fortune by her old friend, Richard Wilkins III. She feels she has no choice but to turn her back on her new life home in England and stand by Spike.



Business as Usual

Chapter 21: Aftermath



The oldest cemetery in Sunnydale was a place of many shadows: the guy who was supposed to care for it only came when someone complained that their ancestor’s grave was overgrown. The grass grew dank and high, dark trees threw black shade, old tombstones and stone angels, pitted and scarred by the years fell where they could. The people they marked had long disappeared from memory, their bodies now dusty bones – or, of course, as Agnes Pringle thought cheerfully, they had been turned and were living happy and productive lives in the underside of Sunnydale.

Of all the graveyards, this one was her favourite: the new ones with their smooth stretches of grass and neat plaques and headstones – all made to a similar size and style – she found soul destroying. Well, she would have found them soul destroying if she’d had a soul to destroy, but she was sure the feeling was the same. They were too polished, too laundered. People were all so different in life; why did they have to be regimented in death?
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