[ nearing the welcoming centre, her sights snag on a familiar height. a familiar shape. a familiar face; one that haunts her dreams more than she cares to admit, even after all these years.
or perhaps especially after all these years. so buffy stops dead in her tracks. so what if the sun is out? she simply stares. she doesn't even try to be inconspicuous about it.
her lips form a name that she doesn't quite manage to say. ]
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or perhaps especially after all these years. so buffy stops dead in her tracks. so what if the sun is out? she simply stares. she doesn't even try to be inconspicuous about it.
her lips form a name that she doesn't quite manage to say. ]