I look at the stars and wonder if there is anyone, anything out there. Knowing my luck, it’s probably a ravening monster.
But thinking in planetary terms about the Scoobies makes sense to me.
I feel like the Earth. Solid and uninspiring. You never hear poems on the lightness of earth, just the moon’s beauty and stars’ glitter and the sun’s heat.
Willow is my sun, constant and burning bright. Flaring occasionally with danger but there is no life without her.
Buffy is the moon. Cool and pale, she attracts but never holds anyone in her orbit for long.
Giles is many things. He was a large planet on the edge of us all. Now, he’s like the asteroid drifting and searching for a place.
Dawn was the new planet bursting to life far away and only being noticed when she was on the horizon.
Anya, ah, my sweet Anya. She was like the one in a lifetime comet. Loud, bright and brash, flaring to life all at once and burning out just as quickly. The closer she got into my orbit, the more the primitive man inside me screamed to get away.
And Spike. He wasn’t a once only comet, all awe inspiring and gone forever. He was like Halley’s comet. Showing up at intervals, creating mayhem and suspicion, then disappearing again.
I felt calm after the sinkhole. I knew that Spike would be back, like Halley's comet, even if it seemed like he had flared into oblivion that day. Part of me also realised that Anya never would. I was at peace with that.
And as with any planet and orbit, life moved on.
Fin.
