[What do you do when you’re bored?]
The sharp smack of her fist against the punching bag is rhythmic. Broken only occasionally by the louder, thicker thump of a kick. The rhythm is accompanied by the rattle of chain and the whisper of wood groaning in protest. She pauses, swiping the back of one hand across her forehead. Buffy doesn’t need to work out. She’s got that gig down and she doesn’t need to lose the weight. Most of the time it takes her and Danny fighting to keep weight on her. She works out all day at work with the boys and slays at night. Punching the bag is just filler and a way to burn away boredom.
She could go shopping but her American Express protests a lot more than the doorway of their kitchen. She gives one last punch to the bag, sending it swinging it dangerously on its chain before she turns on the ball of her foot and heads to the bathroom. By the time she finishes with her shower, Danny should be home and he can take up the mantle of entertaining her.
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