Title:  When Stars Burn Out
Author:  Lady Jesca
Email:  jesca10@attbi.com
Web: http://home.attbi.com/~jesca10/  
Distribution:  Just email and ask!
Rating:  G
Summary:  Dru in the middle of the day.
Improv:  #40 – cool, pet, sweat, spray
Prompt Improv: #2 – "It's what I do in the middle of the day."
Spoilers:  Nothing you don't already know.
Disclaimer:  This is Joss' world I live in.  I'm just a visitor…not 
mine, don't sue.
Notes:  Answer to the Prompt Improv challenge of what the characters 
do in the middle of the day.  This is the second "Middle of the Day" 
story I've done.  So I guess I got a collection starting.  This 
story is completely independent of the other.  
**~**

I see them.  They see me.  They're still as bright as marbles in a 
jar waiting to be played with.  It doesn't matter that the sun is 
up.  It doesn't matter that I'm locked away in my cell of dead 
skin.  I still feel the light from them spray across my body and 
mind.  I hear them.  

My stars don't desert me.  They are the only things that stay.  My 
daddy left me and my Spike.  My Spike.  He could never see the 
stars.  Oh he pretended to have them swimming in his eyes, but all 
he saw were dots.  Dots!  Dots of imperfection in the black night 
sky.  Imbecilic intelligence.  That's my Spike.

They laugh when I'm happy and they sing when I feed.  They hum when 
my body is pleasured and I haven't heard humming for too long.  They 
don't sing to Spike any more.  How sad.  Sometimes I think about 
taking his leash and biting it off!  But it would be no use.  The 
slayer's got a new play toy.  But he was mine!  My toy.  My love.  
My son.  

They talk to me.  They tell me things that were.  They tell me 
things that will be.  They guide me.  My daddy used to be my guide, 
but he gave me to the stars.  He gave me dots.  But what do I need 
with daddy.  The Angel beast has his way with him.  Leashed again.  
I'm surrounded by a pound!  All alone now.  

My stars told me about my daughter.  My grandmummy.  Dead.  
Leashed.  Another puppy flitting around at the end of a leash 
begging to be let go but not wanting to be free.  Pets.  
Domesticated.  

I know they're staring at me.  Other feeders.  They watch me look up 
at the ceiling and trace the stars that's beyond it.  They think I'm 
crazy.  Well, that doesn't mean I can't see my babies.  They're 
there.  Even when the light shoves a blanket over them or outshines 
them like some pesky older sister, I can see them.  They stick to 
the cool sky like sweat on a lover.  They all act like they've burnt 
out.

What a reeking thought.  Burned out.  I know if the stars burned 
out, I would fizzle into nothing.  What life would be worth living 
without stars?  Not mine.  I'd climb my way to join them.  Yes!  
Climb my way to join them.  That's what I'll do.  That's what I'll 
do. 

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THE END