whattingawhat: (slayer style)
Buffy Summers ([personal profile] whattingawhat) wrote2007-10-01 11:04 pm
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[livejournal.com profile] writers_muse Prompt 4.2

Christ! I miss the cold war M. from Casino Royale

She stood at the back of the room and listened as a battle strategy was laid out. Xander stood at the front of the room with more confidence than she’d ever imagined he’d find. He was drawing on an overhead projector with various colored markers as an audience of rapt young slayers watched.

She tuned it around for the most part, only occasionally catching snippets about wings and back up plans. He was still going over formations when Buffy slipped out the back door.

There was something organic in the feel of the stake in her hand, the way her skin warmed the wood. She reveled in the fluid motion of her body as she kicked, punched, ducked and dodged. The air around her filled with ash as the solid bodies her fists and feet slammed against became nothing more substantial than dust.

Ashes to ashes…dust to dust


Her head knew that the way they did things now was the right way. It was more efficient. As a whole, kill counts were higher, apocalypses were fewer and slayer life expectancies were longer. Her heart was another story. Her heart liked things this way. Outnumbered and against the odds, vampire against slayer, armed with nothing except a stake and her own instinct. She missed the simplicity of the way things used to be. She missed her heart pounding too hard in her chest, her breath coming in gasps and she missed flirting with death.

She laughed, almost able to see Spike’s smirk in her head and Angel’s frown at that thought. She whirled, performing a flying roundhouse kick that Jackie Chan would envy and landed in a crouch, surprised to find the room empty. She exhaled, a puff of air blowing her bangs out of her eyes. She straightened up, tucked her stake in her waistband at the small of her back and turned to walk out of the room.

When Xander arrived with his army of slayers to clean out the nest, they’d find it had already been cleaned. She’d get a lecture from him later and she’d smile, apologize and tell him it wouldn’t happen again. They both knew it’d happen again.