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Fixing Broken Things


When things needed fixing, she was always there. There with a shoulder to cry on, the eye for research, the right words, the magic, even a decent pot of tea, considering she was an American and all. When things seemed hopeless, she was always there to make them all right. But now she’s the one who’s broken. And she is supposed to fix it. All by herself.

He’s never really been needed before. Oh, Drusilla needed to be taken care of, Angelus needed a hunting partner, and Buffy needed a good hard shag, but no one has needed him. At least not since when he’d been turned. And that is a long time to be a convenience, an afterthought, a make-do. A very, very long time.

But now he knows how good it feels to be needed; to know, as he holds his girl while she goes through the shakes and the tears, that it’s his understanding and his arms that comfort her. That no one else would do just as well. That he’s the only one she would share this with, this weakness and need and dependance; these things she was so ashamed of before he came and offered his acceptance and his strength. Offered her the gifts he’d seen her share so often with so many others.

When she is quiet and calm in the darkness they share together, he always stops her before she can thank him. He tells her it’s her turn now to be healed, reminds her that he’s done nothing more than learn from the lessons she taught, and that it’s his turn now to fix what’s broken.

The End.
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