Night was a dark time, traditionally. Some people feared it. Some people relished it. Darkness was a wonderful shroud, a cover for people who lurked in the shadows. Shame it didn't hide just people, thought Buffy, as she jumped to her feet again after being knocked to the ground by one of the legions of the undead.
She smiled sweetly at the vampire, who began to look worried, and then she punched him in the face.
He staggered backward, his hands covering his nose.
Before he could recover, Buffy aimed a kick at his stomach, and sent him flying. The force behind the blow sent him all the way back to a tree, which happened to have a useful pointed bit of wood sticking out of it.
The vampire looked at her, shocked, yellow eyes wide.
Buffy waved. "Bye bye now," she said.
The vamp exploded into dust.
Buffy sighed, and looked around for the stake she had dropped. Locating it, she picked it up and shoved it back up the sleeve of her jacket, before continuing with her patrol of the cemetery.
It had been like this, night after night ever since she was sixteen and had discovered she was the Chosen One - chosen to slay vampires, that was. Sometimes Willow and Xander - her two best buds - came with her. It stopped everything being always the same, and stopped her thinking so much. But they had both had other things to do of late, that thing known as 'a life' to lead. Her life was just one big 'slay evil' gig. A job with a difference: granted, but the pay sucked.
She wondered if she'd ever be able to lead a normal life, ever be let off the 'sacred duty' hook. Surely, a Slayer who was eighty wouldn't be much use to the world? Of course, she probably wouldn't make it anywhere near eighty…
As if in response to her thought, she heard a twig snap behind her.
Whirling round, she grabbed the stake from her jacket as her free hand reached out to grab her would-be attacker.
The vampire, who had just seen in Buffy the potential for a nice meal, suddenly looked very worried.
Buffy smiled, and raised the stake. "Now, now," she said, "you should know better than to snack between meals."
She plunged the stake into the vampire's heart, and he vanished in a cloud of dust.
Brushing off her clothing, she regarded the dust as the wind blew it away.
"It'll give you heartburn," she said, her earlier humour sadly lacking from her voice.
Continuing her walk around the gravestones, Buffy twiddled the stake in her hand. It was so much a part of her now, she barely noticed it was there.
She had killed so many vamps over the years, demons too, but they kept coming. Was she really making a difference? Would there ever be a time people didn't have to fear the night and its shadows?
Of course, she no longer feared the night. She knew what was out there, and she knew she had the potential to fight it. She had friends to help her, too. And that was probably where the fear came in.
Fear that she wouldn't be able to protect them, fear that she would lose them. She had once feared for Angel in the same way.
Angel. His name could still conjure up feelings in her no one else had been able to get close to.
Killing him to stop Acathla had been bad enough, but there had been a seriously good reason behind that. Then, when she got him back, she really did lose him. He just walked away from her after Graduation, after they stopped the Mayor. She had only seen him once since then. She had wanted to go to him, stay with him. Instead, she had found herself asking him to stay away. Stay away forever.
Therefore, he was lost to her.
A growl in front of her threw her on the alert again, and she came rapidly out of her thoughts, suddenly realising that she had been so wrapped up in herself she had failed to see the vampires that were now circling her.
There were six of them. One to six - not good odds. But it was all a game, really, wasn't it? Sure, the prize was your life, but that was what made you fight harder.
Buffy stood in a fighting stance, the stake gripped in her hand, watching the vampires, waiting for the right moment.
One of them moved towards her, and that was it.
Buffy kicked the one behind, and he fell, creating a gap in the circle, while her arm reached out and staked the one who had dared to come too close.
One down, she thought, and spun into a high kick, knocking one of the vampires into another. They both went down. She impaled them both on the stake. Three down. See: just a game.
She often thought about it like that, more so recently, since Willow and Xander hadn't been around so much to take her mind off Angel. What had she told him just before the Prom during that talk in the sewer that had broken her heart… and more? That she hadn't realised she had a choice about loving him. And, really, she didn't have a choice. After all he had done to her, after all they'd been through, even after these past four years, she still loved him. There was no choice there. She would love him till she died. That's why she thought about slaying as a game.
One of the vamps grabbed her around the neck. Her hands went up, trying to loosen the grip. He picked her up as though she was no heavier than a sack of hay, and flung her against a tree.
Her back slammed into it, and for a second her entire body tingled. Well, no one could ever tell her she never saw a Chiropractor. These guys could straighten your back in one foul swoop!
Picking herself up, she broke off a twig from the obliging tree, and ran towards her attacker. He aimed a punch at her, but she saw it coming. She caught his arm, and flipped him onto the ground. Trusty piece of wood at the ready, and the next instant the vamp was dust.
Four down. She was winning her game.
For every vamp she killed, she won a few more minutes of life - she was on board with that. But her game had a bigger prize. A bigger prize than life? - must be something, huh? To her it was everything. For what was life, really, when you couldn't be with the one you loved? Worth living, sure, but nothing drastically out of the ordinary.
So, she had a little fantasy that every demon she killed, every vamp she slew would lead her one step closer to that ultimate prize… Angel. Where Angel would come back to her, and stay with her, no matter what anyone thought. That was the prize in her game.
Punch, kick, jump, stake. Five down. Only one to go.
Buffy looked for the last vampire, and saw her running away. Uh uh, she thought. You wanna play this game, there's no runner-up position.
Darting between, and over, the gravestones, Buffy soon caught up with her. She took a leap, and fell on the fleeing vampire, who turned angrily, her fangs revealed in a feral snarl.
"Down, girl!" Buffy said, and slapped the vampire's face away from her neck.
They fought, and twice the vampire nearly got away. Eventually, Buffy had her pinned.
"Say goodnight." Buffy smiled bitterly, and plunged the stake into the vampire's heart.
Six down. Game over… for now.
Buffy picked herself up, and dusted herself down, wishing she felt more exhilarated. She had just saved some Sunnydale residents from becoming a late night snack, after all.
Yay me, she thought, but there was a lack of conviction.
Her game was never really over, and no matter how much she fantasised about that big prize, it never came her way. After all, it was just a fantasy, a dream, and they weren't exactly known for coming true.
Buffy sighed. "Just another night in Slayer Central," she muttered, and looked at the sky.
Midnight had passed, and so had a couple of hours after that. While dawn wasn't near yet, the vamps' snack- and play-time was pretty much over, or certainly would be when the ones she had killed tonight didn't return to the fold. She might as well try to get some sleep before tomorrow's early start.
That was another thing that sucked about this whole slaying gig, decided Buffy, as she began to walk towards the exit. The hours were just completely off the standard-working-day chart.
Suddenly, a vampire jumped out from behind one of the gravestones in front of her.
Buffy looked at him, annoyed. She'd had enough for tonight.
"Not now," she said. "Play-time's over."
And he vanished in a cloud of dust.
"'Play-time's over'?" queried a quiet voice from behind her.
Buffy gasped. She'd know that voice anywhere. It followed her through her dreams. Had he…? But no. He would only seek her out if there was some deadly danger or something.
Getting a hold on her errant emotions, Buffy turned around and looked at the handsome and familiar face in front of her. The face of the vampire she loved. Angel.
"Well, well," she said, unable to keep the slightly icy tone from her voice." Look who's here."
Angel was wearing that characteristic smile of his - one where you were never sure if he was smiling or not.
"Hello, Buffy," he said.
"It 's nice that you still remember my name," she responded, a touch of sarcasm entering her voice. What was he doing here? If he had just come to upset her world, and then leave again…
Angel become serious, his expression dark and intent. "I could never forget it, or you. You know that."
"Do I?" she asked, some emotion creeping into her voice. "Isn't that why we're supposed to be staying away from each other? So that we can forget? So that I can move on? Isn't that what you wanted?"
Angel was silent, regarding her with pain and sadness in his eyes. Those eyes had once made her shiver every time he looked at her; a good shiver, not a bad one. She was sure they could still, if things were different.
"I'll never forget, Buffy," he said quietly. "I can't."
What was he doing?! Was he trying to tease her with what they'd had, deliver some cryptic message as he had when she'd first known him, and then vanish into the sunrise, leaving her wanting him more than ever?
"What game are you playing, Angel?" she demanded, unable to keep the hurt from her voice. "What are you trying to do here?"
Angel looked as though something had broken inside him. He moved as if to touch her, but thought better of it.
"I wanted to tell you -" he began, his voice raw with emotion. "I wanted…" He trailed off, getting a hold of himself, his expression closing, shutting himself off from her. "But I was a fool," he muttered, looking at the ground. He looked at her again. "What do I cause you except more pain. I shouldn't have come."
He turned and walked away from her, dark coat flapping in his wake.
Buffy wanted to call to him, beg him not to leave her again, but she would be strong. Love was like that. It made people vulnerable, while at the same time strengthening them.
Suddenly, Angel stopped. He turned to look at her.
Some distance separated them now. Buffy was reminded of the time when she had seen him just before he left Sunnydale and moved to LA. Of course, there had been fire trucks between them then, ambulances, and smoke, but the look was the same.
They stood that way for a while, neither of them moving, just locked in the other's gaze. Then, Buffy did what she had thought about doing at that earlier time but hadn't because she had known it was wrong. It didn't feel wrong this time. It felt right. She stepped forward.
Slowly, never taking her eyes from his, Buffy walked towards Angel. Gradually, he began to move towards her too. They met in the middle, scarcely inches separating them, but not touching.
Buffy could see a whirlwind of emotion in Angel's eyes: pain, hope, sadness, joy, indecision. She wondered if she looked the same.
As if something had prompted them, as one they reached for the other's hands. Although Angel's hands were cold, she barely noticed. She only noticed that they were now linked. It felt as if they were on the verge of something.
"Why did you come here, Angel?" she asked softly, no trace of the hurt or censure from earlier.
Without looking away, Angel replied in kind. "I wanted to tell you something."
Buffy smiled fractionally. "Tell me," she invited.
"I love you," he said.
A wave of emotion came over her, and she closed her eyes, feeling a shake go through her. Hazily, she registered that Angel was still talking, his words spilling out as though a dam had been opened. She tried to focus on what he was saying.
"Four years, I've tried to convince myself that I was doing the right thing, that I was letting you live your life," he said. "Four years, I've tried to convince myself that your feelings must have changed, that you don't long for me every minute as I long for you. I've tried to convince myself of so many things, that eventually I had to see you to separate the truth from the fiction.
"Then, I saw you." He smiled as he said it, and reached up to cup her cheek. "So many emotions flitted across your face, I figured you mind was very busy with thoughts."
Buffy smiled, and pressed against his hand, holding it to her cheek with her spare hand.
"But you also looked sad," Angel continued, "and I thought, at that moment, that if you managed to take the vampire that was hiding behind the gravestone, I would reveal myself and see your reaction. If you just gave me a friendly glance, I would have left," Angel told her, "but if there was any hint that you still cared for me, I knew I had to tell you I loved you. I couldn't just walk away again. I need you too much."
"Oh, Angel," Buffy sighed, and hugged him, her arms going around his neck. He wrapped his arms round her waist and held her tight against him, as though he never wanted to let her go.
"Would it help at all," she began, her voice slightly muffled by his neck, "if I told you I feel exactly the same way?"
Angel abruptly pulled away, still trying to keep a check on the joy that wanted to get the upper hand on his face.
"Then…?"
"Don't ever go away again," Buffy pleaded. "I don't care what anyone thinks. We've tried the being apart thing. It isn't fair on either of us. Please… stay with me."
Angel looked stunned for a moment, and then he grinned. "You took the words right out of my mouth," he said.
Buffy felt shock rapidly dissipate into joy, and, on impulse, she kissed him. It was a swift kiss, hard, thankful, and over too quickly. Angel must have thought so to, for he initiated the second kiss, and, for several minutes, Buffy lost herself in the arms of the man she loved.
When, eventually, they broke apart she was breathing hard.
"Hey," she lightly admonished him, "some of us have to come up for air, you know."
"Sorry," he said, looking anything but contrite.
Buffy hugged him, laying her head on his shoulder.
She couldn't believe he was really here, that she was holding him, that he had just said what he had. Was she dreaming? No, it felt too real. Maybe she had won the game at last. Oh, sure, that would be right. Never the less, she'd been given her prize.
At that thought, she laughed softly.
Angel turned his head towards hers. "What?" he asked, amused.
"I was just thinking," she said.
"Yes?" prompted Angel.
"I won."
There was a pause. "Won what?" Angel sounded puzzled, as well he might.
Buffy smiled into his shoulder.
"The slaying game," she said.