She stood there, with her back to him, unable to move. Her breath seemed too quick and shallow in her own ears, her eyes wide and wild as cold sweat trickled down her face.
His cool hands rested lightly on her forearms, restraining her without using the least bit of force.
"Do you love me?" He whispered in her ear, his warm breath sending shivers up and down her spine.
"Y-yes," she stuttered. She felt her knees begin to buckle as his soft touch on her arms became a death grip, digging bloody half moons in her soft skin with his sharp nails.
"Do you trust me?" He demanded, his voice hissing in the tell tale sign that his face had changed.
Her mind screamed out like the trapped animal that she was. Her heart beat a panicked rhythm in her ears as the stench of blood from his breath hit her face. She could feel the rush of blood running through her body, well aware that he could too.
"Yes," she said even as her mind screamed out denial, every fiber of her being shrieking with terror.
She closed her eyes at the sound of his soft chuckle, unwilling to meet her death head on. She shuddered once as his fangs buried with the slowest of motions into her skin.
Buffy awoke with a start. For a painfully long, disorienting moment she had no idea where she was.
"Damn!" She muttered as she realized she was in her own bed in her very own room. "Why can't I have nice dreams about Freddy Kruger slashing my throat out like a nice, normal person?" She demanded of no one in particular. No one in particular, after a great deal of thought, decided not to answer her.
"Damn!" She cursed again, putting a great deal more emphasis to it this time, as she glanced over at her clock radio. Four more hours of night left for her to toss and turn with. She shuddered at the thought.
"Might as well get some work done," she muttered as she climbed out of bed. She dressed quickly, hiding stakes, holy water and other vampire nasties in various places along her clothes. As an after thought she reached for the long sword her Watcher had given her, placing it firmly against her back. Giles would be so proud, she told herself, making a small unhappy face at the thought. She shrugged, the night was already shot for her, might as well give someone a happy. She contemplated that unselfish thought as she silently climbed out her window.
Buffy glanced up at the steel gray skies. Her Slayer instincts told her dawn would come in a little more than an hour, the gray cloaked sky was just a sneak preview of the light show the rising sun had to offer.
She sighed with regret, shifting the heavy sword digging at her back, three hours worth of patrolling and not a vamp in sight. It's true what they say, she thought, no good deed goes unpunished. All she wanted to do was release a little penned up hostility, couldn't the vamps just give her that?
Reaching one of her favorite graveyards, pausing only to contemplate her own mental health at actually HAVING a favorite graveyard, she heard the familiar sounds of a scuffle.
"Well finally," she murmured, edging cautiously forward. She rounded several inconveniently placed tombstones, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw what they revealed.
Well what do you know, she thought, they started without me. She moved with feline grace closer, to gawk at what the Slayer handbook would easily consider a miracle. Someone was fighting her battles for her.
A black cloaked and hooded figure was systematically hacking away at four, very unhappy, vampires. The Slayer in her watched with appreciation the lightning speed in which the stranger turned the vamps into something a vacuum cleaner could handle.
The stranger twirled with cat-like grace, his cloak whipping at his attackers' faces, momentarily blinding them. A stake appeared from nowhere to plunge itself efficiently into a cold vampire heart. The vamp stared at his chest with disbelief, to Buffy that moment always seemed to last forever. The vamp exploded into a cloud of ash, as Buffy sighed ruefully. Nothing lasted forever.
The Slayer tore her attention from the ash floating away in the wind, back to the Stranger who had easily decapitated a bloodsucker's head with a single, swift motion. The body crumbled to dust before it even hit the ground
Buffy eyed the evil looking blade in the stranger's hands enviously, now why couldn't Giles let her play with something like that?
The Slayer leaned on a headstone, watching what proved to be great entertainment, wondering absently how in the world anyone could see anything with that hood over their face. She twisted a blond lock of hair between her fingers, grimacing as the two remaining vamps decided to work together against their attacker.
You should have tried that when there were four of you, the petite blonde mused. Nevertheless a stake slipped into her grip with a flick of the wrist, just in case. An enemy of my enemy is a friend of mine, she remembered reading that somewhere. It seemed to ring true in this case as well. She advanced with a stake in hand as the two vamps attacked the stranger from opposite sides, rushing at him with intent to kill. She was still too far to help but close enough to truly be awed as the dark figure leaped through the air over a stunned vamp's head, twisting to decapitate it from behind, even as another hand flew to stake his unfortunate blood brother. The two vamps crumbled to dust before the acrobat's feet ever touched the ground.
Buffy's heels skidded to a stop with shock. No one could do that. God knows she couldn't do that. Hell, she thought, not even Xena could do that.
"Where have you been all my life?" She wondered softly. The cloaked figure whirled to her direction. With a sudden pang of fear Buffy realized that no one could have possibly heard her from so far away.
The cloaked figure charged at her, his evil looking sword brandishing wildly as the distance between them grew impossibly shorter.
Buffy tensed into a fighter's crouch, her mind spinning franticly. Why would anyone so intent on killing vampires want to attack her?
"Very impressive fighting you did back there." She complimented with a slightly exaggerated drawl to her tone. Going on a Cordelia attack tactic seemed ridiculous, but with the way this guy fought she was willing to try it. Throwing her most radiant smile into the mix, she stood there awaiting a response.
The stranger skidded to a stop. "Human?" He demanded, with a heavily accented voice.
"Huh? Oh, you mean me. Yeah, I'm human," she said proudly. It was sure good to be human.
The figure stopped as if considering something, then pressed forward. "Good. Cirta be proud when I kill human."
Buffy's green eyes bulged with surprise as the vicious blade she had been eyeing before came rushing at her. She narrowly ducked the blow, wincing at the rush of air shrieking as the sharp blade sliced cleanly through it.
"Wait," she panted, stepping back. This didn't have to get ugly, "human- good. Vampire- bad." She tried, then ducked again as the blade came much too close for comfort to her neck. "Oh, hell!" She cursed, "I knew you were too good to be true."
With a quick twist she pulled out the long sword that had been digging at her back the entire night. It was considerably slimmer than her attacker's blade, but she felt confident it would pull its weight. "I really didn't want to have to do this," she told him as she wiggled her sword threateningly.
The stranger swung his sword at her in response. She pounced cleanly to the side and deflected his blow with her own blade. The shock was incredible, she felt the tremor reaching all the way to her shoulder blades.
As she peered down she discovered her magnificent sword had been reduced to something the size of a butter knife.
