Chapter One

You get a sense of how a day’s going to turn out by the first ten minutes after walking up. 

When she opened her eyes, conscious of the fact that she’d been awakened by the tweeting of birds and the honk of a car horn somewhere down the street instead of her alarm clock, she knew it wasn’t going to be a good one. The display was flashing 0.00 am which meant a power failure had reset the thing and she was late to work. Refusing to compound a bad event with another, she refused to surrender her morning shower and stepped into the cubicle. 

Only to slip on a splatter of shampoo on the tile and crash into the glass wall. Her elbow went through the cubicle and it shattered, leaving a cut along her skin and glass everywhere. That had taken ten minutes to clean up and a further ten to dress the wound she knew would be healed by the day’s end. She got dressed in a dark pencil skirt and a silk shirt that splayed open at the collar and grabbed her handbag, headed towards her little red Yaris, hoping that being 30 minutes was all the late she was going to be. 

Then the car wouldn’t start. 

While collecting groceries from the back seat the evening before, she hadn’t quite shut the car door properly and so the interior light in the vehicle had been left on all night and her battery was properly drained this morning. There was a moment when Buffy Summers wondered if some demon had hexed her before realising no demon could ever this diabolical. Forced to enlist the assistance of her elderly next door neighbour, Mr Croft, a skeevy guy who always seemed to be peering through her window whenever she looked out of it. Desperate to get moving, she’d asked for his help to jump start her car, convinced he was going to ask for a lap dance in payment. 

Buffy drove to work at Lawrence High School in Lawrence, Kansas. 

Three years ago, she had come here leading a band of slayers to find some big bad the Watcher Council had never identified from presumably ripping the world apart. Whomever the mystery enemy was, he was powerful on a scale that had every soothsayer they knew running for cover and every medium refusing to tap into the spirit world for fear of burning their eyes out. Whatever this thing was, it had affected the planet in a way that neither the First nor the Glory had been able to do. 

By the time she and Faith had arrived, it was all over. Whatever the trouble was, it had burned itself out at a place called Stull Cemetery. The entity for all effective purposes was gone and none of their resources had been able to track it down again. The global catastrophes had stilled and Buffy chalked it down to the Powers that Be, getting off their collective asses and taking responsibility for their own screw ups for a change. 

She had planned to leave Lawrence but after a few days in town, enjoying the local food, the small town atmosphere, Buffy found she rather liked the place. It had no Hellmouth to speak of and Faith was more than happy to take the lead on the new slayers. 

“You’re crazy B,” Faith had said in her usual flippant matter, “this place is like the middle of nowhere. You’ll go stark in a week!” 

Except she hadn’t. 

Dawn was now graduating law school. Her little sister was fielding job offers in New York at a prestigious law firm. Little Dawnie, a lawyer. Buffy was inordinately proud of that. Xander had gotten married a couple of years ago and now lived in London with his wife, Catherine who had been a librarian in the Watcher Council at the time of their meeting. These days, Xander helped Giles train potential slayers while Catherine had given birth to their first child, a girl. 

They named her Joyce. Buffy wept when Xander told her. 

Meanwhile, Willow had set down roots in New England, training new witches. She and Kennedy were still together. The last time she had spoken to Willow on the phone, Willow had mentioned that she and Kennedy were thinking about adopting a child. Occasionally, Faith would stop by, they’d go drinking and Faith would make a half-hearted attempt to get Buffy back in the game. Being put in charge of baby slayers had changed Faith, made her less of a maverick, more of a teacher in ways Buffy had never imagined she could be. 

Giles had understood why Buffy had stepped away. While she didn’t use the cookie dough analogy, she did feel her life had been stunted somehow by being the Chosen One. She’d been the Slayer since she was fifteen years old and being the Chosen had laid waste to almost every other aspect of her life; college, family, relationships. None of it had been able to withstand her duties and Buffy who was on the cusp of turning thirty at the time decided, if she didn’t start her life soon. She never would. 

She’d made an effort to finish college some years back and had a degree that cemented her desire to become a Guidance Counsellor. She’d enjoy her brief tenure as Sunnydale’s counsellor and always thought she would like to go back to it if the opportunity came. Three years ago when she had chosen Lawrence, she’d finally dusted off her degree and put it to good use. Robin Wood had been kind enough to give her a recommendation, as did the big wigs at the Watcher Council, though they didn’t represent themselves that way. The Council had enough academics of note in their ranks to be able to bluff a good reference for Buffy. 

Her father Hank had surfaced long enough to help her, using money to make amends for nearly a decade of absence. Buffy had taken his help and bought a nice little house in good neighbourhood in Lawrence, with her own back yard and a white picket fence. She’d always wanted one of those. It was the epitome of normalcy and if necessary, could be used as stakes if the need arose. Once a slayer, always a slayer. 

Still Buffy relished the chance to be on her own. Years ago, Giles had told her she needed to take charge of her life. She’d gotten an apartment, a car and had was settling into the routine of a young, single woman on her own for the first time without worries about her duties as a slayer. It was nice and Buffy was rather surprised, she didn’t miss slaying at all. Okay, sometimes she got a bit dull and ran up the bills for overseas phone calls to Giles and Xander but for most part, she was rather content.

******

Buffy arrived at school only to discover that she’d been late for the staff meeting held that morning. In a move that could only have been punitive for her tardiness, Principle Blake had chosen to bestow the singular honour of running the school bake sale. Despite having no interest in baking and not at all wanting to give up a Saturday in the company of soccer moms, Buffy had choice but to accept. Her attempt to get out of it had resulted in the son of a bitch giving her a smarmy smile and saying, “Well next time you’ll know not to be late, Miss Summers.” 

Asshole. 

The day hadn’t improved when she got to her office. 

Her first appointment of the day was Milton Wasserman who told her for the umpteenth time why gym class was ruining his life because without a passing grade in Phys. Ed, he’d never get into Harvard. She consoled him the best way she could, promising to talk to Coach Bannerman about make up (could you do make ups for Phys. Ed even?) and there were other colleges almost as good as Harvard. 

Following that, Sarah Cambridge came to see her. As she sat across the desk from the girl with her perfectly styled hair, make up, expensive clothes, manicured nails and equally perfect teeth, she was visited by images of Cordelia Chase. In comparison, Sarah Cambridge made Cordelia appear positively charming. 

What followed was an hour bitch session about how she’d received detention for calling Betty Foreman a fat pig. Everyone knew Betty was a porker and she was just pointing out the obvious. Sarah had continued to reveal that pointing out the obvious meant daily taunts to the girl’s face, scrawled across her locker, Twitter and Facebook. Just in case anyone missed it. 

Buffy was eternally grateful that she had escaped high school by the time social network had gone mainstream. She couldn’t imagine going through what kids endured today. In any case, she’d done her best to explain to Sarah that bullying was not something that looked good on a college application. Besides Buffy thought secretly, it was the bullied that often resorted to spells and raising ghouls to get some payback. None of this registered with Sarah and Buffy was promptly accused of being insensitive before leaving in a huff. 

The irony was not lost on Buffy. 

By the time lunch time rolled along, Buffy was suddenly longing for the days when the worst thing she had to deal with was the Mayor turning into a giant snake and terrorising the student body. Deciding she needed a timeout off premises, she drove to Veteran’s Park and the diner called the Slice that sat across from it. Aside from having the best pies in town, to which she had little interest, it was a cosy little place that served great food where she’d could sit quietly against the glass windows and watch the world go by.

“Hi Buffy,” Mary, the regular waitress on shift at this time of the day, greeted her when she walked into the place. They’d gotten to talking over the last year and Buffy now knew that Mary was a single mom, with a thirteen year old, whose husband had left her for a younger woman, 

“Hi Mary,” Buffy said smiling brightly at her when she stepped through the glass doors of the front entrance to the diner. “Can I grab my usual table?” 

“Sure,” Mary replied, waiving her through to the table in question which Buffy was relieved to see was unoccupied. The lunch crowd had yet to flood into the place and there were only a handful of other diners in the red, vinyl booths. Buffy liked the Slice for that very reason, not merely because if she got in early enough she could miss the crowd but also because it had an old world quality to the place. Not one of those trendy places that added the word ‘fusion’ to everything in the menu. It was a sign of age she supposed that Buffy preferred to stay away from those. 

Its décor was very much in the vein of the traditional American diner. With Formica flooring, wood panelling and vinyl booths, Buffy loved the Slice’s retro look, though she wasn’t entirely convinced that it was intentionally retro as much as it was just old. Her high heels clack across the linoleum as she passed by the counter and studied the pies on display, from the savoury to the desert and her stomach perked up at the sight of apple. 

Buffy slid into the booth and gazed out the window at the people in the park. Mothers were pushing babies in prams, old men were nestled comfortably on park benches, feeding ducks breadcrumbs at the pond nearby. There were a few teenagers sprawled on the lawn, seniors she guessed, enjoying their lunches while dogs were playing Frisbee with their owners. The scenery allowed Buffy to relax, and with a deep exhale, she expelled all the things that had gone wrong today and also staunched the desire to kill something. 

“I’m telling you Sammy,” the voice of a man invaded her thoughts from the booth behind her. “This town gives me the creeps.” 

“This is our home town Dean,” a second male voice returned with a hint of exasperation. “You can’t get jittery every time we come back here. Besides, we’ve got a job to do.” 

“Alright, alright,” the first guy conceded defeat. “Give me the lowdown. What are we dealing with here?” 

Buffy chided herself for eavesdropping, resolving to go back to watching the park and the people outside. She checked her phone and started to scroll through the messages to see if there was anything from Willow or Xander. Xander had taken to sending her pictures of Joy on a daily basis and despite herself, Buffy delighted in receiving them. 

“….where was the guy killed again?” 

Buffy’s spine straightened immediately. 

“At the back of an alley.” The conversation continued. “He’s throat was ripped out but judging from the crime scene pictures I managed to get a hold of, it’s pretty messy for a vamp. Could be a rugaru also. It isn’t a full moon so it can’t be a werewolf.” 

In the same breath, the guy had identified at least two monsters and a…what the hell was a rugaru? Furthermore, he spoke about the creatures as if it was the most normal thing in the world, like he was trying to identify a strain of bacteria or something. Buffy was burning to find out who these guys were.

“A rugaru would eat the whole thing Sammy,” the response came promptly. “It wouldn’t stop at the throat.” 

“Not unless he’s just getting started Dean,” ‘Sammy’ countered. “If this is its first kill, there’s bound to be some hesitation. The next one if there is another one, will be a lot messier.” 

“Okay,” the one named Dean agreed with a sigh and eased back into the booth. Buffy could hear the vinyl squeaking behind him. “So we back track the victim’s movements to see where this thing could come into contact with him and hopefully we can gank the son of a bitch before its takes another poor bastard.” 

Gank? Buffy asked herself. What the hell was gank? Buffy resisted the urge to turn around to look at the two men. Who were they that they were chasing monsters? And what the hell was a rugaru? She’d never heard the creature before and she was pretty convinced she’d heard them all. Wanting a good look at them without giving herself away, Buffy rose to her feet with the intention of heading towards the ladies room since it would take her right past their table. 

Brushing down her skirt, Buffy caught her first glimpse of the two men. While she only caught the back of the head of one, she was able to see the other clearly. She estimated that he was a little younger than her and he was very good looking, not mention seriously tall. She had no doubt that if he stood up, he’d be at least a foot taller than her. Even with that unruly floppy dark hair and sideburns that needed shearing badly, he was good looking with a near irresistible cleft in his chin. Faith would love him, Buffy thought to herself. 

He was dressed in a checked shirt and jeans and workmen’s boots. Definitely not Watcher Council, she decided and then wondered if they were from the Initiative. No, there was something in their speech that did not seem to fit the military either. They spoke the way she and Faith sometimes discussed slaying, like they were used to the fight but not bound by any particular discipline. Whomever this guys were, they were something new. 

When they made eye contact, Buffy curled her lips into a small smile of acknowledgement before she kept going. She entered the ladies room and freshened up, fixing her makeup and lipstick before stepping out again so she could get a look at the second guy at the table. 

Their eyes made contact the instant she stepped out. His gaze was fixed on the door, almost as if he’d been waiting for her to emerge. He had dirty blond hair that was cut short, full lips and hazel eyes. Squared jaw, chiselled features, he had ‘bad boy’ written over every inch of him, even down to the weathered jacket he was wearing over his broad shoulders. Buffy swallowed thickly as their eyes met, attempting to feign nonchalance when all she could think was, he was predatory and sexy as hell. 

It had been awhile since she’d been so affected by any guy at first sight. 

After Angel and Spike had died in Los Angeles, Buffy had sort of shut down where men were concerned. She dated every now and then and each encounter told her that dating didn’t work for her. How was she going to tell a normal guy how she used to spend her nights? Faith had told her she shouldn’t look for relationships when it was far more interesting to sample a variety of men without getting too attached to them. 

Ball ‘em if you dig ‘em B and then Adios Muchacho. 

Buffy continued the walk back to her table, holding his gaze and waiting to see if he would pull away. He didn’t and the continuing eye contact brought a cocky smirk to his face, like he was challenging her to break away first. Never one to flinch when it mattered, she had no idea what she would say to him if he decided to speak to her. Her last date had been a year ago and she knew she was out of practise with the art of flirtation. She used to be so good at it too. 

“Hey darlin’,” he greeted her when she as close enough. His voice was deep and husky with a drawl to it that was so masculine, it made her want to listen to him all day. Jesus Christ B, she imagined she heard Faith’s voice in her head, try and hold yourself together. You’re the slayer for fuck sake. “You know a good hotel around here?” 

“What?” Buffy looked at him, her cheeks beginning to bloom with indignation. Did he just try to pick her up with such a crass pick up line? “Excuse me?” She stuttered. 

His eyes were dancing with mischief as he regarded her. Obviously the innuendo in his question had achieved the desire results and she could swear he was trying not to smirk at her. 

“I said do you know of a good motel around here,” he repeated himself, “Me and my brother just hit town and need a place to crash. I figured you being a local might know?” The corner of his lip curled with amusement, like he knew exactly what she was thinking and was crowing because he’d led her right there. 

Buffy stared at him with narrowed eyes, infuriated that she’d walked right into that. It annoyed her to no end that he could disrupt her radar so easily and he didn’t he know it. Spike used to do that all the time and it often led to her pummelling him into submission followed by really great sex. Even as the thought crossed her mind, Buffy groaned inwardly at her own weakness. 

“Sorry, can’t help you,” she replied, trying to regain her composure. “You’re better off asking Mary over there for recommendations. I’ve only been here for three years and I haven’t had much time to check out motel rooms.” 

Oh God, did she really say that? Buffy winced inwardly. 

“Now that’s a shame,” he grinned at her. 

Buffy blushed involuntarily, once again reading him loud and clear. He was so forward and brash that it made her want to slug him. Reigning her annoyance in, she reminded herself that she had wanted to know who the two were and catching this guy’s forward pass might be the way to do that. Besides, if there was a monster in town, she had an obligation to find it and put it down. Even if she was a semi-retired slayer. Letting these guys go off on their own would just get them hurt.

“I’m Buffy,” she flashed him a smile. 

An odd thing happened then. The cocky grin he was wearing changed somewhat and his eyes softened. For a minute she thought he recognised her or something but the look faded almost as suddenly it appeared. 

“Buffy?” He said with genuine surprise. “Really?” 

It wasn’t the first time she caught that reaction to her name. Truth be told, it was nowhere as bad as what she’d caught from some of the kids who’d come into her office for the first time. 

“Yes Buffy,” she reiterated. “Do you have a name or don’t you ever get that far with the girls who pick up that line?” 

He laughed. “Hey no offense intended,” he answered quickly, not wanting to spoil the nice flirt they had going on. “I’m Dean and this is Sam.”

“Hey,” Sam answered with a slight wave though his expression clearly revealing he wasn’t enjoying his brother’s attempt at a pick up. 

“So now that you’re on to me, how about a drink tonight?” He asked her. 

Buffy thought she heard a sound of disapproval coming from his brother Sam but Dean silenced him with a look. 

“Sure,” she answered giving him the same flirty smile as before and once again, she thought she saw his Adam’s apple bob nervously. What the hell was that about? “Where?” 

“The Dynamite Saloon on Massachusetts Street,” Dean said without skipping a beat. “You know it?”

“Yeah I know it,” Buffy nodded. “About seven?” 

“I can do seven.” He winked at her. “Don’t stand me up Darlin’.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she smiled and left him to pay her cheque. 

*****

Sam Winchester waited until the cute blond had paid her cheque and left the diner before he turned to his brother. “Dean, we’re on a job.” He reminded his older brother. 

“I know that,” Dean retorted, still watching the girl sashaying away from the diner. Her skin tight skirt emphasized her glorious ass as she moved gracefully across the parking lot to her car. The sunlight caught her hair in the just the right way and made each strand gleam like fine threads of gold. As it was, he was humming each time she had flashed him that smile. It had hit him between the eyes like a bullet to the brain, making his breath catch and his throat go dry. 

Pity about the name. 

“Look we’ve got no leads on Kevin, Cas is in the wind and you’ll need some R and R after we look at the scene and talk to the family. Trust me, you’re not looking so hot.” 

“I’m fine,” Sam shrugged, ignoring Dean’s observation. “And don’t change the subject.” 

“I’m not changing the subject,” Dean retorted defensively “Look I buy her a couple of drinks, do the wild thing, work the job and head off in a couple of days. What’s the harm, huh? Besides, she’s so frigging hot.” 

But it was more than that and Dean knew it. He’d seen her walk past them at the table and had admired her shapely ass and gorgeous legs as she went to the bathroom. He admired her the way he’d admire any attractive woman walking by. However, when she’d come back out, Dean had simply melted. Maybe it was the pouty lips or that little thing with her nose but more than likely it was that smile, that lightning jolt to the heart, smile. 

Sam stared at Dean’s pleading expression and found himself relenting. There was no changing Dean’s mind anyway. Besides, Sam had to admit Dean hadn’t been this interested in a girl for quite some time. After spending a whole year in Purgatory, Sam supposed his brother had earned a little recreation with the opposite sex.

“With that name, she was probably a cheerleader too,” Sam added.

“God, I hope so,” Dean sighed, his mouth suddenly gone dry at the prospect. The girl just got hotter. Sis Boom Bah baby.

TO BE CONTINUED