WHO:Buffy & Derek WHEN: Tuesday night WHERE: Around town WHAT: Old habits die hard for this Slayer, and werewolves roam the night. Or something less stalkerific. RATING/WARNINGS: Dunno STATUS: In Progress
This was not Sunnydale. Sunny anything would probably run away screaming in this place. Did this place even know what sunlight was? She was starting to wonder if the vampires just sort of claimed this place and then died out from the sheer depression of it all. It wouldn't surprise her.
There was something horribly familiar about this place though, the way it made her feel. On constant edge, ready for the fight. She's thought that maybe the fighting could wait for a while, after Sunnydale, after the First. But instead it was straight back into it. Muscles burning but wounds healed. That was one nice thing, right? And Cordelia.
Although maybe that was a form of torture. Thrown into an unfamiliar hell world with Cordelia for company. Even if she wasn't half as difficult as she had been in high school.
God, how long ago did that feel. It was like a whole other lifetime. At least five Apocalypses' ago.
But five Apocalypse or not, it couldn't stop Buffy from heading out to not only get the bearings of this place, but to continue her sacred Slayer duty. And also get away from Cordy for a little while. So there she was, walking the streets rather than through the graveyard, Mr Pointy in hand, looking out for anything nasty, just like Buffy's usual.
Buffy Summers, the slayer, she who creeps around deserted streets.